bjhass
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Feb 2, 2013
- Posts
- 725
Vera was the happy new bride of the perfect man. He was a few years older than her, but he was handsome, smart, independently wealthy, and best of all he made her laugh all the time. The perfection of the beach wedding was only surpassed by the high rise reception overlooking they bay where her Prince Charming's private yacht awaited to embark on their honeymoon. But all of that was just a blur of sensations because of her anticipation. Or perhaps she had had a bit too much to drink.
It was all very hazy. She remembered boarding the yacht and setting sail. She also remembered waiting in the luxuriously prepared suite as her captain guided his ship a suitable distance from shore. She was so beautiful as she reclined on the bed in what remained of her wedding attire, anxious to consummate her sacred vows. The boat was rocking more than she had expected, but she had never been out to sea before. Besides, she was sure that as soon as her lover's arms wrapped around her she would become lost in the security they provided.
What is taking so long? She had thought. And is that an alarm? Again the memories were pretty fuzzy.
I remember staggering up onto the deck, but why was it suddenly so dark? She puzzled. The air had been frigid against her scantily clad body. The deck had heaved and she remembered the sensation of floating through the air. Why is the ship upside down? Or is it me that is upside down? Her thoughts came more clearly than the images associated with them.
Freezing water had suddenly engulfed her, plunging her into a pulse stopping embrace of sea, salt and spray. When she finally came up she was so busy gasping for air she didn't even think to look for the boat. By the time she did look around, another wave crashed over her body, tossing her in unending turmoil until she succumbed to exhaustion and accepted the embrace of the sea.
...
Some time later,
As her senses slowly awoke, her head still spun even though her body began to tell her that the turmoil was over. The first sense to wake was hearing. Waves roll softly in the distance and sea gulls screech at each other. The sounds emerged as if from a great distance then rushed closer like a train passing through a tunnel.
Am I back on the boat? Then, Of course not, even at the dock there was some rocking sensation, but nothing like that here. I must be on land.
Taste and touch woke up together, assaulting her battered mind with an overload of information that left her neurons numb for an extended moment. Her lungs burned as her chest heaved, taking in fresh, sweet air through her parched lips and raw throat. Salty sea water roiled in her stomach then rushed up and out through her nose and mouth, burning the already sensitive tissues all along the way.
When her air passage was again clear of salt water she noticed something mixed with the smell of the sea. Like a wet animal or an old sock, something desperately needed to be washed. Or is that me? She wondered. And why can't I move my arms and legs? At first the muscles seemed leaden but as her blood began to return to her extremities she realized something was tightly holding her arms and legs in a spread eagle position.
Finally she realized that she is not only bound but the bands around her ankles and wrists were anchored to something behind her that was holding her upright. When at last she opened her eyes she was greeted with the sight of Geoffrey Duke.
.....
This whole time he had been sitting silently in the corner. But despite the stillness of his body, his mind was traveling at 100 miles per hour. What is she doing here on my island? He had found her in the surf as he jogged along the beach early that morning. But where did she come from?
She didn't have much in the way of clothing but what little was there had been high quality, at least until the waves had torn them to rags. Her body trembled and she wretched, spewing sea water onto the floor of the small hut that he had dragged her to. She looked like she might have been beautiful once, but in her present condition he didn't want to touch her with a ten foot pole.
As she regained consciousness he stood and slowly approached her.
"What are you doing here?" He asked. Then added angrily, "This is my island!"
It was all very hazy. She remembered boarding the yacht and setting sail. She also remembered waiting in the luxuriously prepared suite as her captain guided his ship a suitable distance from shore. She was so beautiful as she reclined on the bed in what remained of her wedding attire, anxious to consummate her sacred vows. The boat was rocking more than she had expected, but she had never been out to sea before. Besides, she was sure that as soon as her lover's arms wrapped around her she would become lost in the security they provided.
What is taking so long? She had thought. And is that an alarm? Again the memories were pretty fuzzy.
I remember staggering up onto the deck, but why was it suddenly so dark? She puzzled. The air had been frigid against her scantily clad body. The deck had heaved and she remembered the sensation of floating through the air. Why is the ship upside down? Or is it me that is upside down? Her thoughts came more clearly than the images associated with them.
Freezing water had suddenly engulfed her, plunging her into a pulse stopping embrace of sea, salt and spray. When she finally came up she was so busy gasping for air she didn't even think to look for the boat. By the time she did look around, another wave crashed over her body, tossing her in unending turmoil until she succumbed to exhaustion and accepted the embrace of the sea.
...
Some time later,
As her senses slowly awoke, her head still spun even though her body began to tell her that the turmoil was over. The first sense to wake was hearing. Waves roll softly in the distance and sea gulls screech at each other. The sounds emerged as if from a great distance then rushed closer like a train passing through a tunnel.
Am I back on the boat? Then, Of course not, even at the dock there was some rocking sensation, but nothing like that here. I must be on land.
Taste and touch woke up together, assaulting her battered mind with an overload of information that left her neurons numb for an extended moment. Her lungs burned as her chest heaved, taking in fresh, sweet air through her parched lips and raw throat. Salty sea water roiled in her stomach then rushed up and out through her nose and mouth, burning the already sensitive tissues all along the way.
When her air passage was again clear of salt water she noticed something mixed with the smell of the sea. Like a wet animal or an old sock, something desperately needed to be washed. Or is that me? She wondered. And why can't I move my arms and legs? At first the muscles seemed leaden but as her blood began to return to her extremities she realized something was tightly holding her arms and legs in a spread eagle position.
Finally she realized that she is not only bound but the bands around her ankles and wrists were anchored to something behind her that was holding her upright. When at last she opened her eyes she was greeted with the sight of Geoffrey Duke.
.....
This whole time he had been sitting silently in the corner. But despite the stillness of his body, his mind was traveling at 100 miles per hour. What is she doing here on my island? He had found her in the surf as he jogged along the beach early that morning. But where did she come from?
She didn't have much in the way of clothing but what little was there had been high quality, at least until the waves had torn them to rags. Her body trembled and she wretched, spewing sea water onto the floor of the small hut that he had dragged her to. She looked like she might have been beautiful once, but in her present condition he didn't want to touch her with a ten foot pole.
As she regained consciousness he stood and slowly approached her.
"What are you doing here?" He asked. Then added angrily, "This is my island!"
