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East Coast Slavers Organization – I: A Caribbean Adventure
Chapter 15 – Cleaning up in the Caymans (or Look Who's Got a Boyfriend)
Aaron Clarke, aka Robert Morgan to Doctor Kay, dozed comfortably in the first class section of a flight taking off for George Town, Grand Cayman. Seated beside him was the beautiful Doctor Rachael Patricia Quaid. The couple was on their way to consolidate the assets of what Doctor Patricia Kay had amassed from her lucrative practice in Miami.
Robert sat with his eyes closed and analytically reviewed the doctor's financial situation. He expected that within thirty days, the proceeds from liquidating Doctor Kay's estate, clinic, automobiles, and furnishings, would net approximately $8.455 million for Doctor Quaid. He half hoped that she would betray them; the financial windfall to the organization from confiscating her holdings would be considerable.
From the events of Friday morning, Doctor Quaid already knew that she had $4.82 million in her account in Grand Cayman. In addition, she expected considerable funds from the sale of the properties.
"$13.175 million," she crowed to herself. Rachael continued to dream of her luck. She had reviewed the numbers just moments ago with Robert. Within a month most, if not all, of the money would be in her account. Rachael would have escaped prosecution, taxes on much of her wealth that had been undeclared, and avoided a cold morgue slab (or worse). She shuddered as she thought of the less pleasant potential outcomes. Rachael shook free from the cold fear that threatened to overwhelm her, and focused her thoughts on a new clinic and location.
Doctor Rachael Patricia Quaid was ecstatic that the two tough businessmen were letting her go. The thought of the two million in free work that she owed their organization did not bother her at all. She was already envisioning schemes to speed up her debt payment. Steve didn't want her money; he needed her as a key cog in his business machine. She remembered the discussion with Robert about the free work. Robert said that he and Steve would still pay fifty percent of her expenses until they received the full two million in work. Then, they would return to a fixed-fee basis for any work done. Robert warned Rachael not to cheat her partners; else, Rachael's position would dramatically change for the worse.
Both Robert and Rachael were happy with the events of the last three days. Thursday night, Rachael had been the soon-to-be-in-deep-shit Doctor Patricia Kay. Friday morning she awoke to a chrysalis. Though deeply chastised and aching everywhere, she was rechristened Doctor Rachael Patricia Quaid.
On a personal note, the improvement of Puppy's plight was also part of Robert's joy this early Monday morning. Doctor Kay's corrective surgery and prosthetic devices were working out perfectly for Puppy. As a dedicated businessman, he was overjoyed at the profit potential of his current position.
No time was wasted upon landing in Grand Cayman. The two stepped into a waiting limousine and were whisked off to their first banking stop – the local branch of the Banco do Estado de San Paulo.
The bank had already received notification to have $4.82 million in U.S. dollars ready for pickup. Even so, it took three hours to triple-count the money in front of two bank officials.
The funds were packed into bags and the couple left the bank with nearly $5 million cash in the limousine. Next stop was the local branch of Robert Morgan's own bank, the Schroder Cayman Bank & Trust Co. Ltd. His contact, Bank Vice President Jeffrey Danbowsky, paved the way for quick and courteous service. Soon Rachael is $4.82 million richer. Unnoticed by the eager girl, the account had several restrictive provisos. First, as co-owner, Robert had full and complete access to the funds. Rachael, though, had only limited access. She could verify fund balances but could not withdraw anything unless she had Robert Morgan's, or that of one other person's, as yet unnamed, signature. Had she noticed, alarm signals would have been going off in her head. The fund was set up in the same manner as a minor's trust fund would be.
Now, early in the afternoon, the two sat laughing in their hotel's lounge. Rachael felt drawn to this handsome and strong man. The man had treated her honorably. Yes, he had forced her to strip naked. Yes, he had viciously whipped her. Yes, he had coldly raped her pussy and virgin ass. However, he had never taunted her, and he genuinely appeared to have placed the event behind him.
Robert had more or less relaxed his guard at this point. The woman was, undoubtedly, still a risk; but, he felt it was somewhat mitigated by her pleasure regarding her prospects. He also knew that she was happy to escape from her months-long fear and uncertainly. He proposed a toast, "Rachael, to your good hunting tomorrow in Martinique. It is a true paradise."
They clicked their glasses and Rachael crowed inwardly with glee. She and Steve had conferred about her future location and each liked the city of Fort-de-France, the capital of the French possession of Martinique. Rich travelers the world over frequented this lush tropical island. It would provide a perfect haven for Rachael and a lucrative basis for clients seeking absolute privacy during treatment. It was unlikely that the U.S. authorities could ever find her; especially given that all business and personal records were destroyed before the authorities could act to gather evidence. Steve Austin hoped the U.S. authorities would just drop the case against Doctor Kay.
As they basked in the success of the plan, Rachael felt Robert's hands graze across hers again as he set his drink down. She admitted that the orgasms that erupted through her being during her rape, combined with the sheer relief from fear, had kindled long repressed lust. Counting her money that day had been an added aphrodisiac. As her pussy started to ache, she realized that her last months with Puppy had been decreasingly satisfying, partly due to the fear and partly because she unknowingly craved a man's control and thrusting cock.
The potential loss of her assets and freedom had weighted heavily indeed upon her physique and soul. She knew that an associate of Steve could easily create a revenge scenario that was unimaginably horrible. She shuddered as by accident she visualized herself at his mercy – tortured and hanging from a hook – nothing but a 'piece of meat'.
Robert felt her shudder beside him in the confined space of the bar. He slid his arm reassuringly over her shoulders. Pretending that she shivered from cold, he said, "If you are cold, then let's go get you a wrap before dinner. Clothes shopping and my treat," he grinned and managed to look like he really wanted to buy the slut a sweater or shawl to get her a little more comfortable. He was still a little upset that he and Steve couldn't agree yet on what to do with Rachael.
--L--A--T--E--R--
Wrapped comfortably in a beautiful hand-crocheted shawl, the two sat closely together at their restaurant table admiring the sunset. Rachael was tired and ready to crash. The romantic dinner on a terrace high over the western Caribbean was perfect. The bar drinks and wine she had poured into her slight frame over three hours only mellowed her further.
She felt Robert's strong presence beside her and she leaned into his solid bulk. "Hmmm," she thought, "he is like a big gentle bear. The claws only come out if they need to." She liked that in a man, despising macho men who flaunt their strength and testosterone. His arm had clasped her shoulders reassuringly for over an hour now.
Robert was happy as well. He planned to do his best to fuck this gorgeous creature beside him. On her best behavior, he had to admit that she was alluring. Fucking her body and mind was more to him than simple revenge for Puppy's treatment. He softly moved his hand from her shawl-covered shoulders to her exposed neck. He gently caressed the vulnerable skin and lightly traced his finger along her delicate earlobe. She shivered under his arm and he squeezed her tightly.
Rachael knew her shiver and his one-armed hug heralded a possible new stage to their relationship. She moved her face toward his and opened her mouth to question the wisdom of mixing business and pleasure.
Robert just muttered, "Hush," and kissed the mouth so poised to speak and ruin the mood.
"Hmmph," she started, and then simply responded to the kiss. It was not hesitant or apologetic, and she truly enjoyed it. Her only recent sex had been from her nearly entirely lesbian-oriented year with her slave Puppy. Robert's perfunctory rape just four nights before had been the first time in several years that anything harder than a tongue had entered her pussy. She involuntarily shifted her hips and thighs just thinking of his impossibly large and hard cock that night.
Robert noted the reaction and in response, his left hand slid across his body and covered her tight belly. As his tongue probed and possessed her mouth, his hand soothingly caressed her stomach and smooth sides. With another quick hug, Robert pulled back and grabbed both glasses.
"Rachael, our final toast of the night," he said as his eyes bored into hers. "Here is to a night of bliss in the Caymans, with the possibility of more tomorrow night in Martinique."
She didn't hesitate. Her glass hit his a little too enthusiastically and red wine covered her fingers. "Whoops," she giggled.
Robert just put his glass down after the toast and grabbed her hand in his. Looking her directly in the eye, his lips locked onto her flesh, he licked and suckled her fingers dry one by one. His left hand returned to her thigh and brought her loose sundress up to her waist. In the dark and now empty patio, nobody would notice.
He then resumed his kiss while his hand smoothly caressed both her thighs from the knees to just short of her now quivering mound. Unexpectedly, the doctor was proving to be a lustful thing.
Rachael's hand went straight to his cock; thereby sealing the deal proposed in the toast.
"God, it really is a big as I remember," she thought with amazement. "I thought maybe it was just my imagination. How did this thing fit into my pussy, let alone my ass?" She moaned in growing lust as her thoughts lingered on the vision of a cock roughly fucking between her splayed legs.
Just to surprise the now out-of-balance woman, Robert smoothly slid down from his seat and gracefully ended up at her feet under the tablecloth. His hand remained on her thighs during the move. Now hidden in front of her, he kissed his way up her sensitive thighs. Quickly now, almost in a frenzied manner, he roughly cupped her silk-covered ass and he effortlessly scooted her panty-covered cunt to his waiting lips and teeth.
Rachael's muscles became limp as his strong hands clenched her ass and his tongue went straight to her pussy. His tongue and her already glistening labia quickly made a sodden mess of her crotch. "Eiiiii," she silently hissed. "Nice and strong!" She leaned forward and dragged him harder into her squirming crotch. "Harder," she hissed aloud to Robert. "Squeeze my ass harder."
He obliged the delightful girl, amazed that the ass and cunt he had brutalized so viciously just four days ago could rebound to such a level of lust.
Rachael's own hands reached down under her wrinkled skirt to grasp her panty waistband. Her thumbs slid down under the stretchy band and moved the sodden silk down over her hips.
Robert smoothly took over, and brought the unwanted panties down past his face and then onward to her heels. His tongue hardly missed a beat, firmly questing for her clit as he removed the black silk. One hand broke free long enough to toss the aromatic silk flimsy up onto the white starched table cloth. He liked the idea of leaving a souvenir for the wait staff.
His teeth now gnawed at her pussy lips, pulling and stretching them, almost bruisingly. His hands now returned to under her now naked and meaty ass and lifted it up. Rachael hung suspended, completely off the chair, held up solely by his searing tongue and strong grasp.
Rachael thought Robert looked like a Greek god as he emerged from under the crisp white table linens. He threw two $100 bills down on top of her crumpled panties and growled, "Let's go, girl."
They left through the patio's vine covered stone archway toward the dark parking area. Just past the arch, Robert drew her between two dense flowering bougainvilleas to a stone bench. He sat down and drew Rachael onto his lap.
As he suckled and nuzzled her neck, he finally spoke, "I like Rachael Quaid so much better than Patricia Kay. I hope we get to be great friends and lovers."
Understanding that he would have found little to like in the villainous and treacherous Patricia, she was especially gladdened to be gaining a strong supporter. Her still cunning mind let her know a protector and ally would be a huge boost in her transition to Doctor Quaid.
She murmured back, "Oh, thank you darling, that's what I needed to hear. Help me get better. Oh, yes, … help me." Her voice quivered at the end when his left hand moved her hand to his bare cock, now magically sticking through this boxers and cotton slacks. Without pause, he swung her leg across his lap and lifted her hungry cunt to just above his rock-hard cock. "Put it in, Rachael," he hissed, "put it in now!"
She blindly complied and fumbled the nearly fist-sized head around her dew-covered labia until she found the right spot. She kicked her heels against his back as a signal to get going. He pulled down in on relentless move. "All, nine, inches, up, your, cunt, girl," he emotionally hissed in a staccato manner into her ear.
Rachael couldn't remember a better feeling cock or a better position in which to fuck. She was drawn forward to his chest as he leaned back, giving the lust-filled woman full access and control of his fuck stick. She took charge and started to rock forward and back, grinding her pubic mound and pussy against his pubic bone as hard as she could on each savage down thrust.
His hands were busy everywhere as her breathing increased from the effort. She flinched a little as his hand unlatched the front clasp of her tight and heavily padded bra.
Robert noticed that flinch and knew she was sensitive about her small breasts. Her bras proclaimed her C+ cup breasts that proudly stood out on her slight frame. The lie was proven as her amazingly hard A cup mounds were mauled by his relentless hands. Fortuitously, her sundress buttoned all the way down the front so he quickly had her totally naked except where the dress hung from her shoulders like a cape. He drew her beautiful tits into his mouth.
Her, "Eiiii," of pleasure proved their sensitivity. As he suckled and chewed her breasts, his hand slid down her bare back to grab her slim buttocks again. He only helped her fucking rhythm, adding strength to her down thrusts. Their pubic mounds ground tightly against each other each time her cunt fell. Their laps were both slithery with cunt butter.
"I am going to ruin these slacks," he thought ruefully. "My dick and brain need to plan these fucks better." In fact, he had also just violated his 'always use condoms with strange pussies" rule. From her file, compiled and updated by Steve, he knew no male had been close enough to get to her cunt for at least two years. He also realized that her loose sundress would easily hide her slimy groin and her soon to be sperm covered thighs. The visualization of his sperm oozing from her puffy, just-fucked cunt lips further spurred his onslaught against her cunt.
Their mutual grunts and wheezes increased in tempo as they each approached climax. Doctor Quaid was the first to break silence with an extremely loud voice, "Oh, you, fuck, …fuck, … fuck, fuck. Fuck me!" that echoed through the hilltop restaurant complex.
Later she slumped back in the car seat, too exhausted to move as the limousine took them both back to the hotel. The chauffer had the nerve to look him in the eye through his reflection in the rear view mirror and grin widely. His white teeth flashed in the dark. "Mon," he started, "what a great night. Huhh?"
Robert grinned and responded, "Yeah, mon, better than you know. I will always remember this trip." With that, Robert pointedly ignored the driver and kissed the forehead of the emotionally wasted girl beside him.
He whispered into her ear, "I think he sat in the limo with his windows down in the parking lot. Maybe he heard you grunting and squealing like a beast in heat?"
She shivered in renewed lust with the thought that the driver had gotten aroused listening to her loud fuck on the bench.
Robert again whispered, "This was your fuck, my dear. I get to chose one later. I promise you will enjoy it and never, ever forget it. First though, you have to freshen up while I do an errand."
Author: Desert Dog ****** E-Mail: Desertlickingdog at yahoo dot com
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