The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

THE MALE MIND

© by Mesmerr

Chapter Thirteen

The next morning, we pulled the pick out of Mother Earth on the sandy ocean bottom of the Pacific and sailed away to a slightly larger tropical island only ten miles away. It had a larger reef area that the books all said was very beautiful, the gem of the Pacific. My aunt wanted to get some video of it with her snorkelling underwater in some action shots.

The prior evening had passed uneventfully while we played monopoly and talked and became excited about going to the next island. Bethy and Shari’ had been reasonably quiet, compared to how they usually were, but they weren’t silent, altogether. They had, however, treated me nicely, offering to get me glasses of water or a hot chocolate or sandwich, a fact having gone not unnoticed by either my uncle or my aunt, but who said nothing. The two girls and I had acted as normally as we could under the circumstances and had rarely looked at each other at all the entire evening.

When we all turned in for an early night because of the early start my uncle wanted to have to go on to the next island, instead of chatting and cackling and giggling, as they usually did, Shari’s and Bethy, once inside our forward cabin had remained silent, except to say goodnight to me. Bethy had been the first to say it.

‘Goodnight, Sir,’ she’d said quietly from the opposite upper bunk.

‘Goodnight, Bethy baby,’ I’d replied tenderly to her and I’d thought I’d heard her sigh softly after I’d said it. Shari’ had spoken then, almost right away.

‘Goodnight... Master,’ she’d said, quietly and hesitantly.

‘Goodnight, Shari’,’ I’d answered warmly.

I’d lain there for a little while thinking over the day’s events and wondering if they were doing the same. I figured they might have wanted to talk about some or any of it, but they hadn’t. After a while, I’d rolled over onto my side and gone to sleep, only to be woken by a familiar sound about an hour later. It had been a soft moan that had been strangled at birth. Although my eyes were wide open, I didn’t move or make a sound.

A few minutes later, it had come again, only this time, a little more deeply and a little more loudly. Also, it had sounded a lot more strangled than the previous one had. I’d grinned, knowing what the sound had been, having heard it a couple of times before when Shari’ had thought I’d been asleep. She had been masturbating. I’d smiled then and closed my eyes, but sleep had been a long time coming as I thought about what Shari’ had been doing with herself beneath the sheets in her bunk beside me.

When my eyes opened in the morning, I’d been alone. Both girls had already risen and left the cabin to help prepare to get underway. It had been then that my uncle had called me, and that had been the start of our new day.

The Pacific weather gave us a quartering tailwind at fifteen to eighteen knots, which gave us a beautiful two-hour sail to the next coral island at around five knots. That doesn’t sound fast, but when you’re looking down from the deck to the bow wave and the wake behind the yacht, it seems fast. Several times, a pod of silver dolphins spread themselves outward on either side of our bow as we sailed through the emerald green water. They rode the energy of the bow wave of the yacht, only inches from the actual hull itself and sometimes, jumped and spun as they left the water to splash back down several feet ahead of where they’d emerged from it.

I loved watching them. They’re so playful and don’t seem to have any fear of man or machine at all. I thought many times that it was a real shame that so many of them ended up tangled in fishing nets-so much for their sonar.

Apart from trimming the sails whenever my uncle told us to, sailing left us very little to actually do, except relax and read, which I did. I followed an unusual feeling-strange though it was, and researched the Bible my aunt kept in the galley library.

My aunt queried me when I’d asked for it and chuckled, saying something about me finally getting religion. I laughed, too, but took the religious book, anyway. The more I read about a particular topic, the more interested I became. I had no idea, actually, that the information I’d found would be in there and certainly hadn’t gone looking for it. It had only been a feeling that I should look for something, although I hadn’t known what, but now I knew and once I knew something of I considered of value, I knew I couldn’t unknow it. And now that I did know what I knew, I didn’t know whether I had a problem or not.

I also finished the book about the single-handed sailor or days gone by while watching the bikini-clad bodies of my aunt, Bethy and Shari’ as they lay around the deck like dead bodies. While watching my aunt suntan the skin that was visible on her body and not covered by her one-piece bathing suit, I again reminded myself that she was still a good looking woman, even after having had two kids. She didn’t wear a bikini because of the stretch marks on her stomach from the birth of Bethy, who’d been a big baby, they’d told us once when Shari’s had asked.

I looked up at the sails from the park bench at the stern, which was my favourite spot for reading and relaxation on the yacht. The girls had not even looked at me yet. I wondered if they were trying to avoid me over what had happened. The sails were full of wind, headsail lifting the bow from digging too deeply, inner forestaysail balancing the other two while the large mainsail gave my uncle’s yacht all the thrusting power it needed to slice its way through the Pacific Ocean at five knots. I love sailing, I really do.

In two hours or so, we’d arrived and dropped the pick, as my uncle called the anchor, inside the large circular coral reef, about a hundred yards from the shore of the pretty island. Surprisingly, my aunt told my uncle to park the yacht closer to the reef than he normally would have, so that she could swim to it easily from the deck, instead of going to the shore in the tender and then swimming back out to it through the breaking surf. I’d watched my uncle’s serious face as he’d done as she’d told him. That look wasn’t a happy one, at all, I didn’t think. But he told her angrily that he’d shift the yacht closer to shore the instant a breeze of any strength came up from any direction and my aunt had reluctantly agreed.

We took the tender to shore then, the lot of us, just to have a look around before coming back on board to have lunch and then going snorkelling on the reef or whatever else we might decide to do. Bethy said she wanted to come back to the island after lunch to collect shells. Shari’ wanted to come back, too. I didn’t care what we did and had no plans, other than to see what the girls would do the next time we were all alone together.

The island was beautifully green and in a real picture-postcard tropical way. Palm trees were everywhere and circled the perimeter of the island, which took us an hour and a half to completely walk around. The centre of the island was covered by a green jungle canopy, which gave a cool shade to us when we explored a little way toward its centre, but before adventuring or exploring too much, my uncle called decided to go back for lunch before the day got away on us. It often did when arriving at a new place, simply because when sailing anywhere, time was not the boss.

Several times, when my aunt and uncle had taken the lead of our single file troop, both Bethy and Shari’ had caught my eye while we’d been walking through the sort of rainforest on the island. Both had smiled softly, as if we knew a secret that the rest of the world didn’t. I’d smiled warmly at them each when they had, knowing we did.

We got back to the yacht just after twelve noon after battling the tender through the surf to get out past the waves and into the calmer swell, but she did it, thanks to the powerful little motor on the back. My aunt fixed up lunch while Bethy washed the few shells she’d collected. Shari’ went below and had a shower while my uncle began to unpack and prepare the snorkelling gear. I gave him a hand, as I always did.

‘Coming snorkelling?’ He asked as he handed me two pairs of long black flippers.

‘I haven’t decided yet,’ I told him honestly. ‘I’ve finished my book, though. I don’t want to start another one.’ He chuckled.

‘Wouldn’t want to tax your mind, would you?’ He asked, smiling. I laughed and took the two sets of goggles he handed to me. I placed them down on the deck and began wiping the glass with a clean rag.

‘Bill,’ he began then with his serious use of my name when he wanted to be fatherly with me, ‘the girls want to go back to the island. I don’t mind, but I don’t want them taking the tender through that surf with the tidal surge. It seems to be feeding the waves. I’d go, but someone has to hold the video for your aunt... unless,’ he chuckled, ‘you do?’

My uncle grinned then, knowing I hated that job. I always got her signals wrong and shot when I shouldn’t have and didn’t when she’d really wanted me to. My aunt had formally fired me several times for blatant incompetence as the cameraman on all of her future video shoots, even if on land, she’d said.

‘You know I’ve been sacked from that job,’ I said, grinning.

‘Yes, I know,’ he replied with a wider grin. Then it faded slightly as he said, ‘I wish she’d fire me at times. She certainly doesn’t make it easy, always changing the hand signals we agree upon before we start. I never know where I am, sometimes.’

I laughed and then we both did. I felt close to him at that moment, closer than I usually did, which was most of the time. He was my stand-in Dad and I loved him like hell.

‘Now you know why she gave me the bullet,’ I chuckled. He laughed and handed me two of the belts with lead weights in them. They always seemed heavier out of water than the last time I handled them on the deck.

‘I added a few weights in mine and your aunt’s belt,’ he said, noticing me lifting and weighing them.

I nodded. ‘Okay,’ I said. I’ll take the girls in.’

‘Thanks, but be careful of those waves, Bill,’ he cautioned. ‘Try and use the engine to stay on the back of them or in between. Don’t get caught riding down the face. Some of them could be big and the tender might broach.’

I nodded, knowing he knew I knew that already because he’d shown me how to avoid broaching in heavy surf many times before, just using the changing power of the outboard motor to always remain between the waves. Still, I’m always glad to have him tell me anything like that because it showed he loved me, as well as the girls, of course. Just then, the lunch bell rang from below decks. My uncle grinned and his face relaxed. I knew a joke of some sort was about to come forth from his lips.

‘Let’s go and see what Atilla-the-Hun has made us all for lunch, eh?’ he chuckled quietly.

It cracked me up, for some reason as I pictured it in my mind. In fact, I couldn’t get up so he helped me to my feet, but, with a cautioning look in his eyes for me to stop laughing before going below decks. I’d never heard him gently rib my aunt before. He joked a lot, but not that way. It was usually about us, mainly about the stupid or dangerous things we did, like when the girls had first stood on the bowsprit, yelling, “I’m sailing!” while we sailed along in twenty-five knots of wind. Now, he sort of accepted them doing it while we were anchored, but it was still a no-no whenever we were under sail.

I finally stopped laughing and followed him below decks to eat the lunch prepared by my aunt, Atilla-the-Hun. I grinned all the way down, in spite of his warning. It was a mistake.

‘What are you cackling about like an old hen, Billy?’ My aunt asked quietly as I sat down with the others. I glanced quickly at my uncle who smiled at me knowingly, but said nothing. I knew he was just waiting now to see how I would handle being under fire from the Hun.

‘I was just told a funny joke about a German swimmer,’ I said cheekily, controlling the urge to laugh again at my own addition to the humour I already felt existed secretly between my uncle and I.

‘Tell us, too,’ she said seriously, sitting down, after handing us all our plates of food, which looked delicious. ‘We could all use a good laugh before lunch. Helps with the digestion.’

I glanced instantly at my uncle who’s eyes only said, “I told you so, smart-ass,” while he waited to see how deep I would dig the hole he and I both now knew I was already in. “Now, you’re in the shit, son,” His twinkling gaze seemed to say silently to me. “It’s only a matter now of how much more deeply you’re going to get yourself into it.”

‘It’s too long to remember.’ I said quickly, not looking at her. ‘You had to be there.’ Then I looked quickly up at her. My aunt looked sternly at my uncle’s dancing eyes and frowned. I figured she’d figured he’d told me a dirty joke.

We all got on with lunch then, with Shari’ and Bethy often looking at me silently from beneath their eyebrows. after being told by my uncle that I would be taking them to the island in the tender after lunch. He’d smiled and said that they would be under my command and to do exactly as I told them, once on board, since I would be the master of the tender at the time. Bethy had almost choked on a piece of fish, she’d chuckled that much when he’d said it. Shari’ had just grinned quietly, as I had, at the coincidence of his statement and the use of the word.

After we’d finished lunch and I’d refuelled the tender’s outboard motor, and, just before I was about to call for the girls, my aunt came up on deck and over to me. I was waiting at the side rail.

‘Bethy’s not feeling well,’ she said. ‘She wants to go, but I think she’d better stay on board for her own sake. She can go tomorrow if you’re going again. But she wants you and Sharon to collect some interesting shells for her Okay?’

I nodded, wondering what was wrong with Bethy. It must have shown on my face.

‘Since you seem to be the resident expert in female matters around here these days,’ she said quietly and seriously, leaning toward me with her eyes hard, ‘I think it’s her time of the month.’

And with that and a soft, winning chuckle at having a go at me, she turned and walked back down below decks. I smiled, not liking her personality sometimes, but loving her always for being my stand-in Mum.

Shari’ came bouncing up on deck just then, wearing a pair of my dark green baggy army shorts and my darker green army camouflage shirt, which was half open at the front. I could see she wore her bikini top beneath it. I had to admit, it looked better on her than it did on me

‘Yes, you can wear my fucking clothes, Shari’,’ I snapped, ‘thank you for asking. Let’s go!’

I held the rail gate open for her to step through and down over the deck rail onto the ladder and then into the tender while I held its mooring rope from above.

‘Yes, Sir!’ She grinned at me, ignoring my obvious anger then snapping her hand to her forehead in a mock salute. I set my jaws together and helped her down into the tender, seriously considering as I did so, how much trouble I’d be in if I just let go and dropped her over the side?

‘What’s wrong with Bethy?’ I asked her, once we were away and motoring clear of the yacht. I was heading for the breakwater out from the shore.

‘Stomach cramps!’ She yelled over her shoulder then turned around to face me after she’d said it. The look in her eyes was a bit strange, I thought. Then she turned back to face the way we were going. Shari’ always loved riding in the front of the tender, holding onto the mooring line with both hands. Every now and then, when we’d hit a wave, her backside would lift up and away from the seat while she held on to the mooring rope until we’d settled in the water once again. When she did that, her spread-legged bracing stance to keep stable when the tender bucked up and down over the wave stirred me, to say the least.

Suddenly, she pointed excitedly. I knew what she wanted me to do. She wanted me to race the waves and surf down the front of them.

‘No!’ I yelled over the whining sound of the small, but powerful little outboard motor. I wouldn’t and I couldn’t, remembering my uncle’s warning, as well as his trust in me to look after Shari’s safety. Doing that was fun, though. I always did it whenever I was in the tender on my own.

Shari’ turned and glared at me, silently telling me again what she wanted me to do. She had the shits again. I set my jaw and positioned the tender between the building surf. She huffed noticeably then turned back around to face the front. I wondered right then about whatever had possessed me to tell her that I loved her. I figured the sun must have touched my brain.