Author's Note: This was my attempt at weaving a little fiction, into images many of us have seen on the "net". Hope you enjoy it. TMG


"Well...sir," Saundra Bergdoll spat, annoyed that she was having such a difficult time ending this phone call, "we make it clear to all investors that there are risks when dealing in the stock market. Perhaps if you hadn't invested every penny, then you'd still have something left for retirement.”

She held the phone away from her ear, whilst the man practically sobbed about being unable to care for his sick wife. Finally, she could take no more.

"Regardless," she interrupted his sad monologue, "our company is in no way responsible for your losses. These things happen. Good day!" She ended the call by hanging up on the distraught gentleman, who had already made her late, leaving the office. It was now six o'clock on a Friday and she had better things to do than wet nurse some old geezer who'd lost everything in the Crash.

Her foul mood lasted all of thirty seconds after she'd hung up. By then, she'd slipped into her $800 navy pinstripe blazer and patted the breast pocket. Within, lie a ticket for an ultra-exclusive, seven day cruise to Bermuda. No ordinary cruise, this vessel was going to be filled with wealthy gentlemen of all ages, each and every one, looking to score. Most of them, a little pussy, many (she hoped), a chance to supplement their already impressive dossiers.

If Saundra played her cards right, these same gentlemen would do just about anything to increase the size of their, ahem, portfolio, for an opportunity to get in her pants. Her mind swam at the thought of how large her commission might be. She might even be able to retire before her thirty-fifth birthday next year.

Before leaving, she checked herself in the mirror. A slight sigh escaped, as she realized that one visit to the gym a week, just wasn't cutting it. Her above-the-knee pencil skirt was a little tighter than it should be, as was her jacket, when buttoned up. Still, she cut quite the figure. Her D-Cup bust sat high on her chest (thanks enormously, to the ¾ cup, underwire bra) and her waist still tapered nicely, though she could now pinch more than 2" of flab. After the voyage, she vowed to work at dropping the extra 15 lbs she'd gained, sitting behind a desk 10 hours a day for the last 14 months.

She ran a hand through her $200 hairdo, pleased how the corn silk-colored strands retained their color and coiffe. Still, she'd have to visit the ship's salon daily. Besides, she deserved a little pampering. Earning $3,000 an hour in this business, didn't come easy. The last one to leave the office, she turned off the lights on her way to the elevator.

Exiting at P2, her 3-½" heels clacked through the near vacant parking garage. Besides her E350 Cabriolet, (which she'd purchased for a song from an investor down on his luck and planned to replace with a brand new SL550. Red, of course) there was a smattering of generic autos belonging to late working schmucks still in the building. Striding up to her car, she barely noticed the delivery van parked two spots away.

"That moron had better get a move on, or else his company's vehicle is going to be locked in here all weekend. Idiot." She thought.

Climbing in, Saundra started the engine. Although below ground, the garage was still uncomfortably hot, so she turned on the A/C and cranked up the fan. The fine white powder that burst from the air ducts was totally unexpected. In moments, it filled the passenger compartment like a fog. Simultaneously, Saundra waved her right hand to clear away the cloud and groped blindly for the door latch and window switch with her left. None of these actions were the least bit successful. A strange warmth swept over her and her movements seemed terribly uncoordinated. The harder she tried to let in fresh air, the more difficult the task seemed to be.

The not-yet-stocky blonde slumped in her seat, without ever having realized what exactly was happening. Three men in blue coveralls exited the delivery van. All were wearing full face respirators. They opened the doors of the Mercedes and lifted the unconscious blonde out. Saundra was carried quickly over and in through the side door of the van, where her jacket and silk blouse were removed. A syringe delivered a clear liquid into her Cephalic vein.

Meanwhile, one of their group was already spraying down the interior of the Mercedes with the contents of an unlabeled aerosol can. After tossing the spent canister in back, he slipped out of his respirator and coveralls. With all the windows down, he started and drove off in the car, followed closely by the van. The security cameras within the garage were in desperate need of an upgrade. By the time anyone suspected something was amiss, the grainy video would reveal little more than spectral shadows and, what might be, one of a fleet of 50,000 delivery vans.

Saundra came to rather quickly, thanks to the drug injected to counteract the sedative. She was first aware that, though her skin was cold, her head was hot. Her body seemed to thrum mildly and she was slightly nauseous. There were odd, distorted voices coming from somewhere in front of her. When she tried to shift to a more comfortable position, everything snapped into focus.

She couldn't move! Every inch of her seemed to be frozen painfully in place. She let out a startled cry of confusion and heard nothing but a muffled grunt, one which she didn't recognize. That's when the digging pain behind her teeth and an impossible fullness of her mouth registered. Something was packed in her mouth, which, although pried wide open, refused to be pushed out by her tongue.

"hhhmmmmgnnnffff!!!" She bellowed in confused indignation.

She tried to open her eyes and realized that they already were. Her head was cloaked in darkness. No, not completely, she noted. She could see a faint glow originating at the bottom of her nose. Her head was encased in some kind of thick, loose fitting sack or hood. Each time she breathed, she could smell the nauseating mix of leather, stale sweat and...fear. No doubt, the effects of the drugs, as well as the odor of the hood, were the cause of her mild queasiness.

She thrashed her head blindly, weakly calling out to the voices she'd heard, not yet comprehending that they would be the last ones to offer aid. As her struggles increased, it became abundantly clear at how thoroughly she was restrained.

She was locked in a seated position, though not on any type of chair she'd ever encountered. By the pressure points along her legs, arms and back, it felt more like a framework than an actual piece of furniture. She writhed harder and found that besides her feet, thumbs and head, everything else was locked immobile. She froze when she heard the first decipherable sentence.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it seems that our "guest of honour" has joined us." Said the electronically altered voice.

The was some tugging around her throat and the leather hood was jerked away. Icy/hot daggers pierced her retinas, as Saundra had been unprepared for the bright, blinding spotlights focused on her. She screwed her eyes shut and yelped once more, this time in pain. Turning her head, she blinked desperately to clear the half-dozen glowing spheres and rectangles from her sight and adjust her vision to see her assailants. If she could see them, she should be able to bargain with them. All the while, the distorted yet unmistakably excited voices, babbled continuously like some electronic cocktail party.

A calloused set of fingers pressed up under her chin, firmly suggesting to Saundra that she should raise her head. Slowly, she peeled her eyes open, blinking them to clear her blurry vision. As her sight sharpened, she could see images burning through the glare of the spotlights. There was no doubt that the images were of her and that the "Junk Bond Investor" was in a very precarious state.

Three, high definition televisions broadcast her condition in 1080 dpi. One was of her face, which Saundra could see had been painted up like a tart's. Her plum-colored lips, stretched in an exaggeratedly large "O", glistened with what must have been four layers of lip gloss. She could see potions of the chromed steel ring which locked her mouth in its severe gape. 'Branches' curved out from the ring at the corners of her mouth, reminding Saundra of spider-legs, albeit only four of them.

Her mouth was cleaved by multiple wraps of black electrical tape. Peeking out from behind the tape, was a portion of the enormous red cloth packing her mouth. For the moment, negotiating was out of the question.

Saundra noted too, that her eyes had been heavily made-up. An almost eggplant colored eye shadow was highlighted by dark eyeliner and impossibly long eyelashes. A pencil had been used to paint her eyebrows in to an arched state of surprise. She realized that the liner wasn't entirely responsible for the effect. She knew she was in some really deep shit. The unease in the pit of her stomach intensified.

Her hair-do, as she might have expected, was ruined. The ash blonde tresses were matted and tangled as though she'd stuck her head in a washing machine. A couple of tears from her light-assaulted eyes, had left dark trails of mascara running down over heavily rouged cheeks. The sight of her panic stricken eyes peering back at her made Saundra turn away.

The next monitor showed a close-up of the blonde's bikini waxed...

"OH MY GOD!!!" Saundra thought. "He...they...shaved off my pubic hair!"

Sure enough, the intimate area above her sex was completely nude. The skin still boasted a slightly pink shade, left over from the razor's assault. Saundra was now aware for the first time, how the region tingled from its recent scalping. With her legs locked apart, there was nothing to distract the eye, from the fleshy pink lips of her vulva dangling below. Knowing that nothing positive could be construed from this vulgar image, Saundra tore her eyes away to look at the final monitor.

The helpless blonde groaned at the full body shot displayed on the last flat screen. She was indeed, in a seated position, her naked body covered by a grid of black, 1" straps. Her upper arms were pinned to the back of the "chair", her forearms to the armrests. Her fingers involuntarily clutched the end of the armrest, straps squeezing them at second knuckle and fingertips. More straps straddled her impressive bust and sank deep into the flesh of her lower torso.

She glanced down and saw that straps also dimpled her meaty thighs in three places. Her lower legs were held immobile at knee, shin and ankle. Her feet had nothing upon which to rest and gyrated like crazy as she writhed to get free.

"grnnnmmmfff!!!" She shouted once more. She refused to tolerate this situation one more second.

The events leading up to how she'd come to be in this predicament were still fuzzy, but she'd be damned if she was going to take things lying down. Well, sitting down, anyway. She looked around apprehensively, trying to find the source of the mysterious voice she'd heard moments earlier.

The spartan room was small, a box no more than 10' on any side. It had been painted completely black. Besides exuding an ominous atmosphere, the dark color seemed to leech the light from the brilliant spots and monitors. Hence, no matter how hard she tried to divert her eyes, her gaze was inexorably drawn back to the only sources of illumination in the room, the majority of which were broadcasting her condition in vivid HD.

A shudder ran up Saundra's spine, the straps neutralizing any sign of its having taken place. What scared her more than the restraints themselves, was the uncertainty of what was to happen next. Surely, whomever was responsible for this, hadn't gone to all this trouble just to get her naked and tied up. Gooseflesh mottled her skin, as she could not stop herself from conjuring up all sorts of gruesome scenarios.

"Welcome, Ms. Bergdoll." Came an unnaturally insect-like voice from behind her.

Saundra flinched, the speaker catching her off guard. Recovering quickly, the blonde launched into a muffled tirade of how deep a pile of shit this stranger was in. Had she stopped to think about it, she would have realized that the roles were clearly reversed. Her gagged grunts and hums conveyed none of the venom she'd intended, instead, succeeded only in making her sound as vulnerable as she was. Affirming this, were the electronically altered chuckles and guffaws of the mysterious audience, emanating from loudspeakers within the room.

The speaker strode into view, his appearance doing nothing to settle Saundra's apprehension. He was tall, well over six foot. He was shrouded in a black monk's cloak and hood, a translucent mask obscured all details other than he was Caucasian. Polished black military boots shod his feet and his hands were encased in leather gloves. From one gloved hand, dangled a multi-strand flogger.

"We'll dispense with the pleasantries and get right down to business." Saundra couldn't be sure if he was talking to her, or the audience.

He stepped forward and there was a metallic *click*. Suddenly, the contraption to which she was bound, spun 180 degrees, away from the monitors. Saundra's jailor now had her complete attention. The blonde could do nothing but sit there and watch, as the stranger deliberately positioned himself to deliver the first strike. In a way, it was more torturous than receiving a quick, unexpected blow. She knew what was coming, but was helpless to alter the outcome. His arm drew back, paused, and then uncoiled.

Saundra was screaming before the buttery smooth tendrils of leather even made contact. There was a loud *SMACK!*, the sound drowning out the broker's muzzled shrieks. If not for the sound of impact, the blonde might have thought he missed. But then the sting of the flogger's kiss blossomed across her stomach. It smart, but all things considered, it wasn't excruciating. Yet.

The next blow landed square across her jutting breasts. That, hurt a great deal more. Pain, began to seep into her bellows of indignation. The third blow landed somewhere between the first two. This was followed quickly by a fourth, fifth and sixth in rapid succession. An ever intensifying conflagration swept over her torso, from shoulders to pelvis. Saundra knew it was more than she could bear. Her assailant believed otherwise.

The insides of her splayed thighs were next. The sensitive skin there quickly grew flush, the burning sting seeming to radiate all the way to her toes. Saundra blinked away new tears, her protests turning to whines for mercy. She thought for a moment that her pleas had succeeded, when the lashings stopped. That was until the stranger spoke.

"Breathe the pain in, Ms. Bergdoll." He almost soothed. "And then exhale it out. It might make it more tolerable."

Saundra was desperate enough to take his advice. She hadn't realized his counsel had been a prelude for what lie ahead. The black-clad captor made an exaggerated, upward swing. Sitting directly in the path of the flogger's arc, was the blonde's denuded sex. An explosion of white hot light burst inside Saundra's head, which lurched back, striking the steel framework behind it, adding more aches to her pain. Two more blows landed in the same spot, then the man stopped. Certainly not because he was exhausted.

The blonde captive sobbed and hitched, her body positively aflame. An inexplicably morbid curiosity swept over her. She simply had to know how badly disfigured this beating had left her. Bracing herself for the appearance of her innards spilling out on to her lap, Saundra looked down. She was astonished to see, that other than a slightly striated, rosy hue, her skin was completely intact. She looked at her assailant, dumbfounded.

"Come, come, Ms. Bergdoll." he chided, "What type of antagonist would I be, if I were to disfigure you in such a short period of time, hmm?"

"I...we, have nothing but patience and time. Time with which you will experience all sorts of extraordinary sensations. Allow me to demonstrate a case in point."

The stranger strode from her view, returning quickly with a thick, wooden shaft. His body shielded one end of it, and he set it on the floor before Saundra could see any more. To her relief, he leaned forward and began unwrapping the tape from around her head. The restrained broker had difficulty ejecting the cloth from her mouth, so he helped remove the sodden mass. No sooner had it cleared her lips, when Saundra let him have it.

"EW AH-ERR! EH EE OH!!!"

Although the malice was there, the garbled delivery left much to be desired. Still, she must have been coherent enough, or her tone sufficient, to garner a response.

"I may be a bastard," he growled, "but you are this exercise's Bitch!"

Saundra's angry indignation wavered at this, more so when he added another strap across her forehead, locking her head immobile. The cloaked stranger knelt, then rose, the pole clenched in his hand. The fettered blonde's eyes grew as wide as saucers when she saw the "business end" of the shaft.

The thick, black dildo gleamed in the bright lights. Attached alongside it, was some kind of bulbous-tipped device. Saundra was unable to turn her head away as he brought the shaft up to her bulging eyes. When he began playfully slapping her cheeks with it, she was surprised at how flesh-like it felt. Nothing in the woman's power, could prevent him from suddenly thrusting the prod into her gaping mouth.

Saundra retched, as the black monster tickled the back of her throat. She immediately began secreting buckets of saliva, which obligingly coated the shaft's slick skin. The blonde choked, gurgled and sputtered, as her nemesis began fucking her mouth with the phallic abomination. Abruptly he stopped, knelt and thrust the dildo up between her gaping thighs.

Saundra's howl rattled off the walls of the small room as her sex was penetrated. Penetrated, and stuffed to a point well beyond anything she'd ever experienced before. In no time, the tennis ball-sized head of the shaft's mysterious "accessory" was shouldering rudely against the area above her entrance. Saundra's hooded clitoris was smack-dab in the middle of "Ground Zero".

Her captor somehow anchored the shaft, causing the whole arrangement to lock utterly rigid. Saundra's attempts to rise or shimmy off the bloated phallus were woefully unsuccessful. It was there to stay, until someone other than herself, chose to remove it.

The broker reluctantly realized, that although the raping cylinder of latex did stretch the walls of her pussy, the level of discomfort was tolerable. She found herself thinking, that under different circumstances, it might not be all that unpleasant. Still, she wasn't going to let her subjugator know that. Nor the vile little, small minded people watching via closed-circuit television. She let loose a garbled tirade which might lead one to think she'd been skewered on a lance.

"Come my dear." The stranger scoffed. "It can't be as bad as all that."

"In a few moments, you will learn that small doses of pleasure help to intensify the periods of pain and vise-versa."

"Although," he paused, "you'll also find that pleasure can be a torture in and of itself."

He stepped on the riggings trigger and spun the metal framework until Saundra was once again, facing the televisions. This time, however, the pictures failed to portray the true significance of what was happening between her legs. The accessory shielded her sex, the flesh above it, re-shaped to confirm to its circular "head". The blonde noticed for the first time, the electric cord dangling from flashlight-shaped device.

"Let us continue." The cloaked stranger said, leaning forward.

The device burst to life with such intensity, that Saundra thought at first, it had delivered an electric shock. The rapid, baritone-like vibrations churned against her sex. It was a sensation which could not be ignored nor tuned out. It traveled through her pussy, jangling its velvety walls. Worse yet, was how it rang her mashed clitoris like a tuning fork.

Sweat burst from her pores and Saundra released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. There was no way she could deny it. The vile, loathsome impalement of her pussy, accompanied by the focused surge of vibrations, was having a disturbingly positive effect on her. Her protestations turned to gasps and moans, none of which sounded as though she was in agony.

Try as she might, she couldn't keep from closing her eyes and concentrating on what was happening below. Thus she did not see the first blow of the flogger coming. Her chest exploded suddenly in the all too familiar, impossible to tolerate, blaze of pain. Her eyes popped open just as the second blow landed upon the first. Had her mouth not been pried open by the ring gag, it was doubtful that the wail she screamed would have been the least bit coherent. It had a distinctly animalistic pitch to it.

The stranger moved behind her and began flailing her exposed ass. In no time, it felt like she was sitting on a frying pan. To Saundra's utter astonishment, rather than feeling like a scalded lobster praying for quick death, her core began to radiate with the heat of arousal. The blonde blinked furiously, the only avenue available to her, for which to break the spell. As one might expect, the effort proved woefully inadequate.

It took her a few moments to realize that the flogging had stopped. The buzzing, however, had not. This fact was what caused Saundra the most angst. To let her captors know that she was in any way aroused by this assault, was too mortifying to imagine. That worry was about to become realized.

The stranger stood before her, then reached down between her legs. Saundra shuddered as his calloused fingers caressed the puffy lips of her sex. When his hand rose into view, she could clearly see it was coated with the creamy fluid of her arousal. Rubbing the viscous liquid between his thumb and fingers, he spoke with mock disgust.

"Why Ms. Bergdoll, you're as randy as a hamster in heat."

A flush washed over the broker's body that couldn't entirely be contributed to the flogging. Lashed as she was, Saundra couldn't even hang her head in shame. Nor could she turn away, as he smeared her juices under her nose and across her waggling tongue. The salty tang in her mouth left her feeling even more morose.

"You will learn," he continued, "that pain can indeed be an aphrodisiac. Given enough time, you'll learn to even crave it."

"And my dear, we have nothing but time."

Saundra heard the words and although they rang with absurdity, somewhere deep down, knew them to be true. This truth filled her with a forlorn hollowness, a vanquished consciousness that bordered on surrender. Had her callousness, her air of indifferent superiority, been a façade to mask her inner frailty? NO! She refused to believe that! Saundra mustered her courage and fixed her abuser with a withering glare. A glare which wavered almost immediately, as the vibrator went on without pause.

"Good." The gentleman thought. "She is not without spirit."

"And" he thought with delicious relish, "she hasn't a clue what the future holds for her."

Sharing none of this with his captive, the man reached into his pocket and withdrew a small jumble of twine. A glint of metal could be seen amidst the tangle. From his other pocket, came a pair of matte black, flaccid looking ellipses. Before proceeding, he switched off the vibrator. The room fell into silence, broken only by Saundra's raspy, ragged breaths.

"And now, Ms. Bergdoll, a rudimentary lesson in self-control."

Placing the twine on one of her immobilized thighs, he selected one of the black rings. When he slipped it over his hand and splayed his fingers, Saundra realized that it was a fat rubber band. Grasping her left breast, he worked the loop down around to the base of her boob. When it shrunk back to its original state, it squeezed the mammary snugly. Her right breast got a similar treatment.

The blonde could immediately feel the skin of each breast grow taut, the nerve endings within, practically crackling with sensitivity. It didn't hurt, but she intrinsically knew that anything done to them, would. She'd have never imagined in her darkest nightmares, what came next. Her tormentor showed her the chromed clips, the puzzled crease of her brow informing him that she hadn't a clue what was to follow.

Although toothless, the steel pincers possessed more than enough bite to maintain an unwavering grip on Saundra's nipples. The man winced, as her shriek assailed his ears, but continued without pause. Grasping the string dangling from the clip, he captured her writhing thumb and lassoed it. Willing to do almost anything to lesson the assault on her abused bud, Saundra allowed him to guide the digit closer to the clip at the other end. When tied off, her thumb was strained back toward her ballooned breast, nipple toward straining thumb. The procedure was efficiently duplicated on the other digit. He stood and addressed his prey.

"The import of this conundrum should be apparent." He said to the immobilized blonde.

"Any wiggling of your thumbs, will have an adverse affect on those lovely little nipples of yours. I would suggest that you concentrate, thus allaying any undo duress to those tender buds."

Saundra locked on to his words, hating him for them, but knowing they were irrefutably true. She immediately tried to strain her thumbs back even farther, the tension on the tendons informing her that it would be impossible to hold that position for very long. Still, her squeezed nipples, already aflame from two floggings, appreciated even the slightest reprieve.

Her concentration was so acute, Saundra did not see him reach down to trigger the vibrator once more. When it burst to life, it came with the intensity of a thousand locust, all trapped within the tiny, 3" sphere. The blonde screwed her eyes shut, trying to block out everything that had happened to her, everything that was happening to her. She might as well wish herself to that Caribbean paradise she had planned.

She was distractedly aware of him grasping the big toe of her right foot. The cane, when it struck her exposed sole, captured every synapse of her awareness. She shrieked yet again, as the white hot lash seemed reluctant to fade. The agony seemed to migrate up her leg and was drawn toward her violated pussy, as if by some carnal gravitational pull. Three more blows landed, each spaced randomly. Four corresponding lashes then assailed the sole of her left foot. Each and every one, caused Saundra to involuntarily clench her pinioned hands, ergo, her lassoed thumbs. Her nipples wailed, as the one way tug-of-war stretched them abnormally.

And all through this mire of incomprehensible anguish, the tempest in her loins boiled hotter and hotter. It was like having an out of body, out of consciousness, experience. Rational thought told Saundra that there was no way she should be deriving any pleasure from this torment. But the blonde had ceased to think in a rational manner. Her primal core, her very soul, now craved nothing but the haven, orgasm would bring. The treacherous, beautiful stock broker ceased to be a sentient being, instead transformed into a blubbering vessel of corporal lust.

Sensing she was near, the stranger performed the denouement. From one last pocket, he withdrew a pale yellow sheet of translucent latex. Standing behind her, he shook out the panel, then stretched it tightly across Saundra's face.

It took a few seconds for the blonde to realize what was happening. One moment, she was willing herself to remain strong and not succumb to her baser instincts, the next, it was as though she'd forgotten how to breath. Her eyes popped open, her vision suddenly distorted. It did not help, that her face seemed equally disfigured in the monitor. By the time she figured out that she was being smothered, her brain was already abuzz with lightheadedness. This newest terror was the final straw.

Saundra Bergdoll came as she never had before. The power released by the climax was staggering. She was swept up in a cyclone of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Although she wailed like a wounded animal, she made not a sound. Her vocal cords were paralyzed and her lungs contained no air with which to project it. Her body shuddered as if shocked, thumbs, feet and tongue waggling, irregardless of the consequences. If death brought on this kind of bliss, Saundra welcomed it with open arms.

It took a great many minutes to realize that she was not dead. A great many more, to figure out exactly where she was. And that was in the exact same situation she'd found herself when she'd awoken the first time.

"How long ago was that?" She asked herself, dazedly.

Although she was till strapped to the "chair", Saundra was able to perceive subtle changes. Gone were the glaring spotlights and monitors. They had been replaced by the yellowish glow of an overhead light. The annoying electronic murmur of voices was still there, only much more animated. In more welcome news, the infernal vibrator had been shut off, although the dormant latex dildo still stuffed her sex. Saundra glanced up with red, tired eyes, as the stranger strode once more into view.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Ms. Bergdoll." He said icily.

"I suppose that it's time to enlighten you, as to your fate."

He strode to the nearest wall and threw open an uncharacteristically circular window, which had been painted black like everything else. Saundra squinted as the light from a brilliant blue sky streamed in. Blinking away what she thought was a blur, instead focused it into what was unmistakably, the Manhattan skyline, slowly fading away in the distance. Between her and it, churned the gray/green waters of the Atlantic ocean.

"I'm on a ship!" The realization flabbergasted her. But it would explain the vibrations she'd felt, as well as the slight nausea.

"As you'll note, my dear." The man explained. "You have in fact, boarded that dream cruise of yours. However, your dreams have very little hope of being fulfilled."

"You see, one of the clients you scammed with your shady stock dealings, happened to be my older brother. Too proud to ask me for help, he instead opted to take his own life, after you ruined him."

Saundra stared at him, eyes widening with terrible realization.

"I made it my sole purpose in life to track you down, as well as, as many of the poor souls you swindled. I must say, you compiled quite an extensive list of clients."

"One hundred and fifty of those clients, whose members include the captain and the crew, are onboard right now. For the next seven days, it will be their utmost pleasure in demonstrating their displeasure in how you transacted your business. I wouldn't plan on getting much sleep."

"Do not fret. You will suffer no permanent harm."

Saundra let out an audible sigh of relief at this, seeing a faint light at the end of the tunnel.

"No, that would not do at all." He elucidated. "Seeing that this is only the first, in a great many more cruises. You see, this ship, which I purchased solely for this purpose, is booked well into the new year, each and every passenger a victim of your greed."

"I am providing passage to them all, free of charge. A great many of them, having followed your debut on closed-circuit television. They are the source of the voices you've been hearing. By the sound of them, each and every one is eagerly awaiting his or her turn at introducing themselves."

Saundra let out a groan, the enormity of what she was being told, to staggering to comprehend. A humorless smile creased the stranger's face.

"And so, Ms. B..." he paused, then turned toward the blinking light of a nearby camera.

"Ladies and gentlemen." He addressed his absent audience. "I submit to you, that in addition to the usual terms of endearment for our guest, bitch, whore, cunt, pet etcetera, that we christen her with a new name, never again uttering the name with which she was born."

"For your consideration, might I humbly suggest Fannie Mae, after that disgraced mortgage lender."

A murmur of approval spilled through the speakers.

"So be it." He announced.

He stepped forward and crammed the still sodden cloth back into Saundra, er, Fannie's mouth. A leather strap was buckled around her head, locking the cloth in place.

"Over time, you will experience all manners of pleasure and pain. Indeed, you will discover that these sensations are seamlessly interconnected, one begets the other. You will not grow old on this ship, but it will seem like an eternity before you ever set foot on land again."

"So now, dear Fannie, I'll leave you alone to ponder the folly of your actions. The first of your clients will be arriving in due time. There is no rush you see. This is a pleasure cruise, after all."

With that, he closed the porthole and swung open the watertight door. Stepping out, it slammed closed with a steel-clad finality. The sound of the latches being dogged, were pins in the balloon of Saundra's hope. Moments later, the light flicked out, submerging her in stygian darkness. The feeble, red light of the cameras, illuminated only the depth of the blonde's despair.