PARTY! Whose birthday is it, the Secretary of Defense?”
“No, no, tis nothing like that. It is simply one of the members of the fraternity.”
“And what exactly am I supposed to do for the money, go all the way?”
“No! Seriously, all you have to do is the show that we discussed - really. And I shall be there to protect you should anything untoward happen.”
“What time does the party start?”
“Oh, tis already underway, but your performance isn’t until nine P.M. We therefore have quite sufficient time to go somewhere for you to change into your outfit.”
“Okay, let’s get out of here. Take me to a nice coffee shop or something. Frankly, this whole thing terrifies me, Trevor. Please watch out for me tonight, okay?”
His face growing crimson in embarrassment, Trevor simply nodded.
They drove to a small diner and, sharing coffee to pass a bit of time, she eventually got up and changed in the restroom. During her absence, he changed into the requisite tuxedo he had brought with him. Upon reappearing in the restaurant clothed incongruously in her rather suggestive costume, an elderly couple in the next booth stared at her incredulously, prompting her to volunteer, “It’s a costume party. I know how it must look, but it’s just a costume party.” They nodded their mystified comprehension, she in turn motioning for Trevor to follow her to the parking lot.
They arrived back at the yacht at ten to nine. Stepping out of the Porsche, she suggested pensively, “Don’t go onboard with me, just follow. I don’t want anyone to know that you’re with me, okay? I need you to be a silent bodyguard.”
“Right-o,” he replied, but by then she had already climbed from the car.
A rather surly fellow met her at the end of the gangway, inquiring politely, “You must be Miss Carey?”
“Yes, of course,” she responded with false bravado.
“Perfect! Hi, I’m Ari,” he responded pleasantly, adding, “Please, this way Miss Carey. They are awaiting your arrival in the dining room.”
“Thank you,” she said and, thenceforth following him below deck, the pair arrived shortly thereafter at a small state room. At that point Ari turned to her and said, “Okay, you know what to do. Now follow me, and when we get to the dining room, head for the stage and do your stuff.” And with that, he grabbed her hand and dragged her from the room. They now climbed a stairway, and as they did so, she could hear the crowd singing ‘Happy Birthday’ in unison, a small band apparently providing background music.
Arriving at their destination, the guy tugged the door open, poked his head through, and exclaimed, “Here she is, boss!” And with that, he turned and shoved her through the doorway.
Within, she observed a rather long and narrow room. Spotting a stage at the far end, she made her way toward it, along the way noticing perhaps eight round dining tables, each populated with elegantly dressed gentleman. At the sight of her they launched into polite applause.
She proceeded directly to the stage and, stepping onto it, she bowed gracefully. The band now struck up a tune, she for her part commencing her performance. As she did so, she took the opportunity to gauge her audience for the first time. They were incongruously advanced in age for frat boys, and for some reason, all aboard were decked out in black tuxedos. That is, except for a lone gentleman at what must have been the head table. He too was garbed in a tux, but he was bedecked in an extraordinarily gaudy red sequined jacket.
The scene before her being to her mind clearly incongruent with that described by Trevor, she searched frantically about for her protector, but to no avail. Under the circumstance, there was nothing for it but to continue her performance as instructed. Accordingly, she continued her sinuous ministrations, eventually discarding her cape near the end of the number, at which the audience supplied yet another smattering of applause.
The band striking up another tune immediately, she continued her act, at the midpoint of which she noticed her guide in the back of the room signaling her that it was time for her to shed her leotard. Following his entreaty, she quickly achieved her ultimate state of undress. Attired in nothing but mask, boots and body suit, the crowd rewarded her with a rousing round of applause.
She continued her lithesome machinations for one further number, thereby arriving at the conclusion of her act in short order. At this point the audience arose and gave her an appreciative ovation. For her part, she gave a sweeping bow and, grasping up her cape and clothing, she blew the crowd an appreciative kiss.
Her act now at an end, she strutted from the stage and made for the exit, but somehow found her path blocked by the gentleman in the red sequined jacket. Halting her, he grasped her in a gentile embrace and, grinning salaciously, he politely entreated her back onto the stage.
The applause now having died down, he thrust her arm upwards as a sign of victory and, grinning from ear to ear, he announced, “How ‘bout that, boys? Isn’t she just the peachiest portion you’ve ever laid eyes on?” and, at the now re-erupting applause, he appended, “I give you, the Wicked Witch!” at which point the applause grew still louder.
Turning towards her, he inquired, “Sooo, Miss Witch. Exactly how wicked are you?”
At this ominous question Rebecca glanced away, searching frantically for her protector. Trucking no eschewal he grabbed her arm and, tugging it downward, he clapped a handcuff on her wrist. Attempting to escape from him, she lurched away in terror but, chuckling at her perceived reticence, he grabbed her free wrist and cuffed it as well. By now the intoxicated audience was laughing uproariously, thereby serving only to enhance her terror. He then turned towards the edge of the stage, commanding, “Bring the rack, Ari.” He then turned back to the crowd, announcing with a wolfish grin, “Boys, you’re gonna love this!”
A table was summarily brought onstage and placed facing the audience. He dragged her across it, cuffing her hands to the tops of the table legs on the opposite side. She was now strapped to the table, facing the audience. He then pulled her legs apart and, cuffing her at the ankles, he subsequently cuffed each in succession to the bottom of the table legs on the side facing away from the audience. She was now horrified to realize that she was cuffed and spread-eagled to the table and, facing thusly toward the audience, she could do absolutely nothing at all but moan softly to herself.
“How do you like this birthday present, boys?” he exclaimed as he began removing his trousers. “When I was twenty years old I promised myself that I would have a virgin for dessert on my birthday every year. And every year since then I have done just that! I don’t mind telling you, this year was tough. Virgins are easy to come by back in Greece, but I had a hell of a time finding one here in the good old U S of A! But this here ripe little peach is a virgin, isn’t that right, Witch?”
At this Rebecca simply stared at the floor and moaned softly to herself in sheer terror. Suddenly, she heard the sound of cloth being ripped, knowing full well her body suit was the source of the sound. Having quickly removed sufficient obstruction for the purpose at hand, he leaned over and tugged her head up so her face was pointed directly towards the audience and announced imperiously, “She can’t talk right now fellas, because the cat’s got her tongue. So you can just nod, Witch. If you’re a virgin, you can nod now.”
Rebecca nodded. And at that moment he smacked her loudly on the bottom, exclaiming, “That’s a good girl, Witch,” and then he walked around behind the table and proceeded to rape her. When he was sated, he backed away from her for a moment and slid something that felt like paper into her left boot top. Subsequently turning away, he ordered, “Ari, take her below, and keep an eye on her, hear? I’ll be down for another round in a little while.” For their part, the audience paid no attention at all as Ari hauled Rebecca from the stage.
Rebecca was dragged back into the adjacent state room, at which point Ari inquired, “Are you okay? You look beat.”
“I’m fine, it’s all in a da
y’s work” she lied, “But he rode me real hard, and I need to go to the bathroom something fierce. Could you please take me to a toilet?”
“Sure,” he replied and, scooping up her costume, he led her down a hallway. Arriving at the head, he pointed, “It’s here, and don’t try anything, because I’ll be outside the door, okay?”
“Okay,” she said and darted into the restroom. Once inside, she quickly removed both the remaining shreds of her body suit and her leather boots, replacing them with her leotard. On removing her boots the telltale piece of paper fell out and, realization seeping over her that it was a hundred dollar bill, she swept up the currency, folded it, and pressed it within her leotard. Then she called out, “Ari, are you out there?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “What do you want?”
She cooed seductively, “Can you lean your head up to the door, I need to ask you something.”
“Okay,” he replied in a muffled tone.
Hoping against hope that her plan might succeed, she leaned back on the sink counter and, kicking the door with both feet as hard as she could, she caught him square on the chin. Ari went down and didn’t move. She climbed over him and raced down the hallway. Seeing a door with a porthole on it and, noticing that it was dark on the other side, she pushed the door open and confirmed that she was now on deck. She peered out towards the shore and, observing distant lights on the shore, she took a running start and dove head first over the side.