Rescued!

The Lies You Tell the Others

(and the lies you tell yourself)

11. Rescued!

"I'm not going back," Michelle stated firmly.

Alben scoffed. "Don't lie to me, Pet. I know it's been difficult for you. You're just upset. But I'm here. I'm ready to rescue you."

"I'm not angry." She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him warmly, offering plenty of tongue. "I love you. So what day is it? July something, right?"

The tall, distinguished looking gray-haired man studied his diminutive, naked lover and saw someone very different from the one he'd left behind four months ago. "Yes. July 18th." She was tanned all over, with a healthy glow that her pale skin had never exhibited before. She looked ten pounds lighter, which was really saying something since she had been barely over 100 pounds the last time he'd weighed her. Without her oversized glasses, she looked more attractive than his recollection, even though of course he remembered how she looked both ways.

"You missed my birthday." She was playing with her matted hair now, which Alben took as a hopeful sign of flirtation.

"I'm sorry. Big number 46. I'll get you something nice when we're back on the main island."

"Don't need anything. I just thought you'd send me a card or something." She laughed at her little joke. Postal service on this obscure corner of the remote little Caribbean island wasn't a regular thing. The boat brought what supplies they needed, so there wasn't really anything anyone needed by postal mail. Mail generally meant bad news had arrived, the boys had told her.

"Your kids say hello, by the way. They sent you birthday cards, of course, that are waiting for you on your desk back home." Those grown kids had in fact begun inquiring more pointedly about their mother's whereabouts.

"It's okay."

"So where are your things? I've got a guy with a boat waiting to take us back to St. Annagato."

"Don't wanna go. I like it here just fine. I like the boys here, just fine."

"The boys. I talked to a couple of them just now. You know I had a hell of a time finding you here."

"Wasn't hiding from anyone. After the pirate took me from you, I was a couple of places, but been here now for, well, I don't know how long. July 18, you say?" The pirate, as she called him, was the odd little man back on St. Annagato who Alben had arranged to "kidnap" her and then put her into service with a pair of dominant trainers he had learned of. It was intended to be a reenactment of L'histoire d'O, a story she had found captivating when he had introduced it to her six months prior. The pirate was an unusual one who made sure to bring her packed luggage with his abductee.

Unfortunately, this group turned out to be unscrupulous and had passed her along to some fishermen on a nearby island, who in turn tired of this older woman and had given her to a group of young fishermen trying to get their own lives going.

Alben of course had long since departed the main island and gone home by then, skipping the return on the cruise ship in favor of a connecting flight back. And then he'd had the distraction of the new girl he'd met on Usenet, who traveled from Tennessee to live with him for several weeks. By the time he suspected something was amiss with Michelle, in what was supposed to be only a one-month vacation for him from his little subbie, it took quite a while to figure out how to start looking into the matter. Phone calls weren't being returned, and so forth. Meanwhile, he'd had to do things like rehire his old accountant, and bring in a maid once a week, to make up for the things he had taken for granted from Michelle. Annette from Tennessee certainly wasn't going to do his books for him, or even keep a decently clean kitchen and bathroom.

"Spent a lot of money tracking you down. Fortunately, an American in paradise kind of stands out, even in the remote corners."

"The boys take care of me," she added pleasantly. "And I take care of them."

"You know what they call you, right?"

"Vieille Folle Nue. The Crazy Naked Lady. I think it's cute."

"That's not it, exactly. They're calling you old. You know that, right? Crazy, naked, and old."

"Wonder what they call you, sweetheart." She giggled in the knowledge he was almost exactly 10 years older than herself. "Luc is 23. Jean-Chrétien is a little younger. I don't know about the others. Of course they'll call me older. I'm twice their age, aren't I? Old woman. It's like I'm their group cougar. It's fine."

"But you don't speak French, do you? It's Vieille Salope, they're calling you, and that doesn't mean old woman, Chelle."

"I know. Luc explained one night. It's just a joke. They love me. I love them. That's all I ever wanted, you know. I don't wanna go back to Maryland. Or anywhere. So if that's what you're here for, you should just go on back without me. I'm not coming." She giggled because she knew he might take that as a double-entendre, and she wondered what leering comment he might offer in reply.

"They don't respect you, Chelle. They're just using you. I'm here to rescue you."

"Maybe I'm using them. Ever think of that? I tell them what to do, and they do it. I'm sure you mean well, but I don't need rescuing."

Alben felt that same sense of panic, at hearing this, that he felt when his lawyer friend explained to him that he might be facing some troubles with law enforcement if he couldn't produce a better explanation for Michelle's whereabouts than he had given her two out-of-town sons. Criminal Negligence was a phrase that captured his imagination, in the worst way possible. Likewise the word Felony. He tried a slightly different angle. "You're just here on a tourist visa. You can't simply stay here indefinitely. With them, with anyone. They're going to find you, the immigration office I mean, and then there'll be hell to pay."

She laughed again, unconcerned. "I'll deal with it if I have to. I've got my passport."

"It's not the passport. It's the visa I'm talking about."

"I don't care. We'll handle it."

He tried his best not to betray his sense of frustration. "They're screwing you, and you're getting nothing in return. These, well, boys, that's all they are. Look around you. What's here? Nothing. These kids, they've got this crappy fishing boat, and what else?"

She smiled at the thought. "I've never eaten so fucking many fish in my life," she said with a lilt in her voice.

"Exactly." He felt he was getting somewhere now. "Dinner tonight, when we get back to St. Annagato, I'm buying you a steak. Forget the cost, nothing's too good for my pet."

"No, no, no," she protested. She did an impromptu deep knee bend and popped right back up. "I've never felt so good. Well, not since I had the babies anyway. Fish is good for you, you know. Fish oil, good for the joints."

"You can't just eat fish."

"Of course not, silly. They trade some of the fish they bring back for fruits and vegetables with the farmers across the island. It's a healthy diet. You should try it. Look at the boys. Luc and the others. Not an ounce of fat on their bellies. Did you notice the six-pack on Luc? And I'm getting there too. Look at me."

She twirled in place, confident in her absolute nudity like Alben had never seen her before. He did look her over closely. Up to then he'd ogled her flat tits with the tiny brown nipples, same way as he always had. And he'd taken note that her pubic hair was fully grown back, sloppy looking even, evidently not being shaved or even trimmed since the time of their parting. Her legs were hairier than he had ever seen -- the only other aspect of her appearance he found less attractive than before. He had already noted that she looked even thinner than before, but now he could see that her tiny buttocks had somewhat more definition to them, while the softness around her tummy was markedly less evident. She'd lost a bit of mass that he would ordinarily have told her she couldn't afford to lose -- but he had to admit that she looked great at this new lower weight.

And that's just what he told her. "You look great, Chelle." He thought for a second and added, "say, where's your glasses?"

"Inside. I can see well enough. They take care of things for me."

"Well, I can't wait to show you off to everybody."

She gave him the crooked smile that he knew meant she was looking at matters differently than he did. She gestured toward his crotch. "Want a blow job?"

"Sure. When we're back on St. Annagato."

"Nah, nah, mon. I mean now. Want me to suck your cock? The way you like it?" The way he liked it with her was deep, all the way, as far down her throat as his almost 18 centimeters would reach. He'd never had someone so willing to please and so able to do it.

"What's this 'mon' stuff? Come on. Let's get your stuff, put some clothes on you, and get you back to civilization. We can celebrate when we're at the place I rented. You'll love it. It's right by the ocean."

She gestured now to her right and then to her left. "This is right by the ocean, sweetheart. Here. This is civilization. For me. I've never been happier. Let me suck your cock, the way you like it. I know that's why you're here. I'll do that so you know I'm not angry. Something for your trouble. Something to remember me by. And then you can get back on your shuttle boat, go back to Maryland, and leave me here with Luc and the boys." She moved a step closer to him and tugged at the waistband of his shorts.

"What are you doing? Out here?" he asked.

She easily slid the garment down to mid-thigh, and since he wore nothing underneath, she thereby exposed his cock which at the moment was nothing near 18 centimeters. "Wait, you're not modest all of a sudden, are you?" She dropped gracefully to her knees. "After all the times I've blown you in front of others?"

"This is different," he said, though he did not try to stop her when she grasped his flaccid tool and began pulsing with her fist. "Your friends here, won't they get mad?"

"I told Luc you're an old friend. They won't be jealous," she assured him. "And none of them is as big as you are if that's what you're worried about. You've got nothing to worry about. Cute little penises, all of them. Uncut. I still like them circumcised better, but I've gotten used to all kinds of things by now and this doesn't even register. I realize now I like 'em better that size anyway. Ten or twelve centimeters is more than enough. Irritates less after a while. And these boys are pretty quick, so it feels good going in and stays good until they are done. Everybody takes their turn, nice and friendly. This isn't what it looks like."

"I think they're fucking you night and day, running a train on you to be perfectly blunt, and having a good time with no thought to the future."

"Oh. Well, then, it's exactly what it looks like." She laughed gently, having used the wording he had rehearsed her when on the cruise ship, one evening, what seemed ages ago. Then she added, "plenty of rum, five horny young men, though it was six of them a few days ago - what's the problem?"

"They're laughing at you. Behind your back, I'm sure."

"No they're not. So, you want a bee jay, or not, sweetheart?"

"I just don't, you know, want to make a scene out here." A couple of the brown-skinned young men were on their way from the small building toward the sandy shore, a few dozen yards away, and one of them gave him a nod and a smile to indicate he saw the hand job that was in progress, then went on about his business.

"We can go inside if you want," she assured him. "Isn't it nicer out here, though?" The temperature was above 30, and the humidity made it feel extra balmy. She laughed and then continued, "I only go inside to keep sand from getting into my cunt. But that's not an issue if I blow you, is it?"

She'd never appreciated his use of that particular term, in the past, so he was surprised she would use it about her own anatomy. "If it doesn't bother you, it doesn't bother me," he asserted.

She hefted his limp tool in her palm. "I thought you'd be glad to see me," she pouted, and leaned down to take it into her mouth anyway. It had grown a little in size since she'd started handling it, but not with the rapidity she was accustomed to.

"I wasn't, uh, planning on, you know, attacking you first thing," he said.

She took the cock out of her mouth and giggled. "I'm attacking you," she said brightly, and assessed the additional growth she had caused with this quick effort. She seemed pleased with some visible progress and inserted him into her mouth again.

"Maybe that's not quite the right word," he said a bit sheepishly.

Her bit of labor did indeed bring him to partial engorgement in another thirty seconds, and she gulped in her familiar way to work the tip past her tonsils and on through to her throat. She humped him aggressively for a similar length of time, as his cock finally achieved full length and stiffness, then she abruptly withdrew. She panted a couple of breaths' worth of air. "Just so you know, I don't want to hold my breath quite so long for you this time. Okay?"

"Fine," he said. Sometimes when she blew him, it was while she pleasured herself with her vibrating dildo, and in those cases she had learned to enjoy the heightened sensation when the orgasm washed over her just as she would lose consciousness from lack of air. When the timing was right, their orgasms would be simultaneous. "Where's your magic wand?" he asked. "You didn't lose it, did you?"

"Battery ran out after the first several days, and I don't really have a way to recharge it."

"They have the same electrical plugs," Alben pointed out. "Don't they?"

She ran a finger across her crotch but only for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe? No power to the buildings here. Not at this end of the island. Don't really need it, as it turns out." She licked her moistened finger for emphasis, then took him into her mouth again.

"Yeah, you do have other ways," he acknowledged. He placed his hand at the back of her cranium and really concentrated on the very fine blow job he was receiving.

But after a half minute again, she pulled out as before. She smiled as she took in a couple of breaths, said "you're right, they love eating pussy. Besides, trying to always chase the ultimate orgasm was starting to wear me out, if you know what I mean," and impaled herself orally again.

He used his hand to encourage her to go for longer periods of effort, but she didn't hold her breath much longer than 20 seconds at most before pulling out each time, not allowing him to hold her in place. "That's good," he coaxed. Twenty was okay, but he still had grown used to much more dedication from his sub.

She continued, enthusiastically but on her own terms, for more than five minutes in this manner, in again, out again. At this point, during a break, she asked, "getting close?"

He responded to this defensively, as he often did. "Close, yeah, but not that close yet. That's one of the things you like about me, right? That I don't usually cum before you do?"

"It's fine," she said, adding, "it's been a while. Kinda fun. They aren't as obsessed with oral as you," and resumed her ministrations.

"If you're in a hurry, maybe you can stay deep on me longer."

She didn't reply to that immediately, but at the next break she said, "I didn't say I was in a hurry. I'm willing to take my time. No rush. What, did you jerk off before coming over here on the boat?"

"No," he said, a note of grouchiness entering his voice. It had been the night before.

"Sorry. No offense."

Before she plunged down on him again, he suggested, "maybe it would be better if I lie down." Standing was indeed a more difficult way for him to fully relax and enjoy the experience, and he usually did it that way only to impress others in the rare cases he had an audience, or when he was trying to assert his dominance over her.

The rocky ground a few meters above sea level was not especially comfortable looking, but he located a small expanse next to them that was reasonably flat, and he lowered himself into a supine position and allowed her to resume the BJ from that angle. He did find himself quickly finding a zone of bliss that was missing until then. He moaned a little for the first couple of rounds she performed on him this way, then writhed with deepening pleasure during the next go-round.

"Almost?" she asked genially at her next break.

"Almost," he sighed.

It wasn't almost. She completed three more rounds of throat-fucking a half-minute at a time, pausing to catch her breath, and on the last pause he pleaded, "don't stop." A little semen oozed from the tip of his cock.

"Oooo," she said. "Sorry. I had to breathe."

"It's like the ruined orgasm for that guy, on the cruise in March. You remember? That tall blonde, what was her name, and her robot boyfriend?"

"I wasn't there for that. You sent me away with that fat plumber guy Dennis."

"Oh yeah. Well, I need to finish, if I can now. Can you please stop stopping?"

She shrugged amiably. "If I don't go so deep, then I can breathe through my nose, for a little longer. You want that instead?"

"Whatever it takes," he said fervently.

"I thought you only liked it deep." This was from having known him, lived with him, for two long years. She took the tip of his cock into her mouth but only a few centimeters, and vigorously tongued him and alternated with suction, to demonstrate, then paused. "The boys like it better when I do it that way." She saw the look on his face and added, "it's just foreplay for them. They don't like to actually cum in my mouth. They think it's disrespectful to me."

He had indeed gone right to the edge with that previous round, but not so completely as to have ejaculated. It was not a comfortable experience now, to restart, and yet he could not resist the urge to reach completion. In real time, it took him only about three more minutes, but it seemed like longer to him. At last, he felt the buildup again in his prostate, and he urged her tersely, "don't stop, don't stop," and the ejaculation finally began. If he were concerned it wouldn't be good, due to the minor false climax minutes earlier, he need not have worried, because the wave of pleasure was intense and remained that way for several seconds, and then the afterglow was many seconds longer than that, with an aura of well-being that left him lying nearly motionless for a minute and a half afterward.

He opened his eyes, to see Michelle gazing fondly at him. "Good?" she asked simply.

"Ohhh yeah. Good," he confirmed.

"I'm glad." She tried to kiss him, but he turned his head. "What? I spit it out," she said with a laugh. He'd always insisted that she swallow every drop of his semen, back in the day. "I can't poison you."

After another half minute of silence, he propped himself up on his elbows, not bothering to cover up his softening dick yet. "Okay. So let's go collect your things and get over to the boat and head back. To St. Annagato, and then home in a few days. Time is money."

"Time is wealth," she corrected.

"Yeah," he agreed, misunderstanding slightly. "It's a half-hour walk back to the pier on the other side. He's probably wondering what's taking me so long, heh."

"Sweetheart. We've been through this. I'm not going back with you. Go home now. I'm with Luc and the boys."

"Don't lie to me, Michelle. You're not being realistic." He slid his shorts back up and began to stand.

"I'm not lying to you, sweetheart. Why is that even a lie? Actually, I never realized how much I lied. Before. I lied to please you, and it became a habit. The first thing out of my mouth was always a lie, and so was the last. A lot of the stuff in the middle was, too. So I've stopped that. Cured myself, by making sure every word I say is the absolute truth. Cold turkey, like any bad habit. I find it quite freeing, actually."