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Kate stood up, rubbing the reddened place on her thigh where he had slapped her. She followed his gaze up to the bow of the boat.

"I just hope you hurt her as much as you hurt me," she complained.

"Whew, what a tiger!" Harry laughed, as he handed her his empty glass. "Take this with you when you go."

Kate took the glass, and turned, climbing out of the cockpit, made her way to the aft cabin, where she disappeared, unsmiling, down the companionway.

Harry watched her go. She was a good woman, he decided, and the best lay he'd ever had. That's why he'd married her, and that's why he'd stayed married to her for so long. But he couldn't stay faithful to one woman no matter how he tried. Not that he ever had tried. His attention returned to the problem at hand. Lynn lay on her stomach now, awake, gazing forward as the Vera cut her way through the calm seas. Harry couldn't take his eyes off the voluptuous curve of her spine as it arched in perfect symmetry up from her small, rounded buttocks, and disappeared enticingly under her long blonde hair.

Damn, he thought to himself, it would be so much nicer if she'd cooperate. But then he smiled, as he remembered some of the best fucks he'd ever had had come only after a pitched battle. Well, maybe he'd have to use the old "Uncle Harry" ploy, as he liked to call it. He'd have to have that bastard Hans' help, but he'd done that before, and the Dutchman knew just what was expected of him. Let Hans molest the girl just a little, and then the only person she could turn to would be old "Uncle Harry". And "Uncle Harry" was a past master at manipulating a sobbing girl's relief in having someone to talk to in a receptive state of sexual arousal. It wasn't the best way to get at a woman, but sometimes it was the only way. He decided that in Lynn's case, because she didn't even recognize any sexual advance short of rape, it was the only way.

Harry stood up, and walked back to where his burly captain was sitting lazily with one hand on the wheel. Harry knew he'd have to be careful how he handled him.

"I'm getting tired of waiting, Hans," he said, taking over the wheel at the same time.

"Waiting for what, Mr. Johnson?" Hans asked, though he knew very well what Johnson was tired of waiting for, and realized simultaneously that this cruise was going to be one of the good ones.

"Lynn Shaffer," stated Harry simply, and waited for Hans to make the next move.

"Oh yeah, right," said Hans, unable to keep from wetting his lips lewdly with a quickly darting tongue. "Well, Mr. Johnson, sir, it sure would be a shame to pass this one up."

"I don't have any intention of passing her up, Hans, and you know it. I'm just trying to decide on the best way to go about it."

Hans sneered inwardly at Harry's obvious discomfort in having to ask another man to do his advance work for him.

"Well sir," he said, "I could always warm her up a little, you know, knock her around some so she'd have to come running to you for help."

"No, not knock her around. You couldn't hurt her, you know that. But do you remember how you warmed up that little redheaded model from Miami, what was her name?"

"Kathy," Hans said. "Yeah, I remember her. And Lily, and Jo, and Shirley."

"That's right, Kathy. Well, I want you to work this one the same way. Get her down below, I'll take the wheel for a while. Give her a few drinks, and then just throw a little scare into her."

"Yessir, Mr. Johnson, I know exactly what you mean."

"But don't overdo it, Hans, you hear me? Just shake her up a little bit."

Hans looked Harry in the eye, and smiled obediently.

"Mr. Johnson, you don't have to worry about me, I know what I'm doing."

"All right, go on then. But just remember what I said."

Hans nodded as he leaned down to pick up his T-shirt from the deck beside him.

Yessir, Mr. Johnson, I'll remember what you said. I'll remember all the time I'm fucking the living shit out of the hot little bitch. Hans climbed out of the cockpit, trying to keep himself calm, trying to keep control of a great, lewd grin that threatened to twist his swarthy face into some kind of obscene Halloween mask.

He leaned over the side, scooped up a handful of seawater, and let its freshness turn his features into those of an efficient, polite, and almost humble servant.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Shaffer?"

Lynn twisted around quickly from her stomach around onto her elbow, and threw a frightened look up at Hans' obsequious face.

"Oh, my… you startled me."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that Mrs. Shaffer. I didn't mean to scare you." Hans smiled almost sweetly.

"No, no," Lynn said quickly, sitting up. "You didn't scare me, I just…" Her voice trailed off as she stared at the giant figure looming above her, half silhouetted by the late afternoon sun.

"Well, I'm sorry to have startled you then. Mr. Johnson asked me to take you down to the bar, and see if we couldn't get you fixed up with a little something."

"How kind of him. And of you, too, of course. I'd like that very much." Lynn took the hand Hans offered her, and was surprised at the ease with which he raised her from her sitting position. "Just let me get my robe and things."

Hans watched as the young woman bent to the deck, allowing her firmly rounded breasts to drop down as far as her bikini top would permit. His cock was already beginning to come to life, its first tentative hardening pushing insistently at the zipper of his jeans. If she saw that…

"I tell you what, Mrs. Shaffer? I'll go below and crack some ice…"

"No, I'm done, I'm ready." Lynn gathered up her suntan lotion, towel, and the books she'd been reading earlier, and then struggled to get her robe over one shoulder where it had fallen off.

"Here Ma'am, let me help you with that." Hans bent down over Lynn's tiny figure, and drew the robe up over her voluptuous shoulder, letting his hand run ever so lightly across the smooth, tanned flesh.

"Thank you," said Lynn, gathering her things up inside her towel. "I think I'm ready now."

Hans smiled, and led the way back along the rail to the main companionway, which led to the large cabin midships. He didn't look at Harry as he passed, but he knew Harry was looking at him.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Johnson," Lynn said, "I didn't know it was already happy hour."

"For the last time, Lynn, the name is Harry," and he smiled warmly.

"Oh, I'm sorry… Harry… I forgot."

"Don't worry about it. Go on down below, and let Hans take care of you."

"That sounds good," Lynn replied. "I'll be right back."

Harry watched as his bookkeeper's beautiful body disappeared down the companionway. He looked at his watch, smiled to himself, and swung the Vera onto a southwest heading.

"What can I get for you," Hans asked, when they'd both reached Johnson's well stocked bar.

"Oh, I don't know. Something cool."

"How about a gin and tonic?"

"That's fine." Lynn set her towel-wrapped bundle on the table and looked around the cabin, amazed as always by the luxuriousness of the furnishings, and the amount of money those furnishings must have cost. "I can't get over what a beautiful boat this is," she said, in an effort to break the curiously charged silence that surrounded them.

"Yeah, it is that." Hans mumbled.

Lynn waited for him to add something to his remark, and when he didn't…

"How long have you worked for Harry… for Mr. Johnson I mean."

"A couple of years."

Again Lynn waited, and again the muscled seaman didn't elaborate. She looked around the cabin again, and then back at Hans. It seemed to her that he was taking an unusually long time over a gin and tonic. She felt vaguely uneasy in his presence, vaguely threatened by his massive body, and the way his eyes never left her, even though he wasn't saying anything. She searched for some topic of conversation just to last until she had her drink and could go topside again.