Cindy was a mongrel bastard. Cindy knew this to be true. Her white mother had born her out of wedlock and put her up for adoption. A permanent adoption never came, and she grew up in orphanages and foster homes. The identity of her father was a mystery. Whoever he was, he wasn't white. She was a small woman with jet black hair, light brown skin, almond-shaped green eyes and a boyish figure. When she turned 18 years of age, Cindy caught the ferry to Merrimac Island.

Once upon a time, there was a little fishing village on Merrimac Island in Pamlico Sound of North Carolina. Then bad times came, many of the fishers moved on, and the village nearly folded. However, a couple of seafaring entrepreneurs saw an opportunity and converted the fishing village into the Merrimac Island Marina and Yachting Club.

The marina soon proved to be a popular port of call for sailors and yachtsmen traveling up and down the Eastern Seaboard of the United States. As a result, a variety of exclusive hotels, fine restaurants, shops and other resort facilities opened to meet the needs of the sailing public.

Cindy hoped to get a job with one of the many businesses that catered to the seafarers who visited the island. One of the businesses that caught Cindy's eyes was the Merrimac Island Dancers. From what she could learn, the Merrimac Island Dancers were the featured performers of a local stage production called "The Sounds of Carolina."

During "The Sounds of Carolina," the performers would belly dance, folk dance, and do other types of dances. Well, Cindy had taken a few ballet lessons, and she could line dance. So, she decided to join the Merrimac Island Dancers.

However, the Merrimac Island Dancers were not who Cindy and most people thought they were. The Merrimac Island Dancers were also top-grade prostitutes. The dancers did "the Sounds of Carolina" primarily to keep up appearances. While a goodly portion of their income came from dancing, most of their money came from satisfying the sexual needs of the aristocrats and parvenu who came to the island.

Officially, the blue bloods and social climbers who employed the dancers did not pay for sex. They instead made a financial contribution to the company, Merrimac Island Dancers, Inc.. The company would then pay the dancers a salary for training and performing publicly with the troupe.

Any sexual relationship that occurred between the VIPs and the dancers was strictly a personal and private affair between consenting adults and not the result of a business transaction. At least, that was the official line. The truth was that these patrons, both men and women, paid a lot of money to have sex with the dancer or dancers of their choice.

At first, the truth of how the dancers actually earned their money shocked Cindy. She certainly had no intentions of being a prostitute. But when she learned how much the dancers made by working on their backs, Cindy quickly changed her mind. After all, she did have some dance experience, and she certainly knew how to fuck. So, Ms. Jacqui, the "Boss Lady" of the Merrimac Island Dancers, agreed to let her join the dance troupe and set her up in a bungalow with two other dancers, Maggie and Karyn.

However, Cindy quickly learned that the Merrimac Island Dancers were way beyond anything she'd done before. For one thing, they danced more than she had thought they did. Another thing, the dancers weren't just prostitutes. They were courtesans, a type of high-class prostitutes. They catered to the fashionable elite. So, Cindy not only had to get in shape and learn a variety of different dance steps, but she also had to proper etiquette and courtesy.

However, the biggest adjustments Cindy had to make was having sex with other women. Before joining the troupe, Cindy had rarely done anything more than kiss or hug another woman. Since joining the Merrimac Island Dancers, though, Cindy not only slept with women, but she became very popular with the troupe's lesbian patrons. As a result, most of Cindy's regular clients were now women.

The irony was that Cindy preferred men. She didn't mind sleeping with women, and for the most part she greatly enjoyed the company of the women who hired her. But, a strap-on dildo to her was a poor substitute for a real cock and a man who knew how to use it. So, whenever Ms. Jacqui offered her an opportunity to "entertain" a male patron, Cindy would jump at the chance. Dr. Clint was such an opportunity.

According to Ms. Jacqui, Dr. Clint was a scientist of some renown, although Cindy had never heard of him. His ship would be berthed at the yacht club for several days, and he wanted some female companionship. He'd heard "good things" about Cindy, and he wanted to find out for himself if what he'd heard was true. So, Ms. Jacqui instructed Cindy to dress simply, pack light, and plan to spend several days with Dr. Clint on his yacht.

By telling Cindy to "dress simply" and "pack light", Ms. Jacqui was telling Cindy that Dr. Clint was a horny bastard, who didn't care what Cindy wore, because she wouldn't be wearing it for long. So, Monday evening, Cindy pulled on a black camisole, blue lowrider jeans over black thong panties, and a pair of black sling-back shoes. Then she stuffed a small duffel bag with an assortment of underwear, swimwear, sleepwear, and toiletries and arrived at the yacht club just after sunset.

Having been to the yacht club many times before, many people recognized her and more than a few of them had a damn good idea why she was there. So, gaining entrance to the docks was no problem. Getting to Dr. Clint's yacht was a different story.

Dr. Clint's yacht was not berthed where Ms. Jacqui had told Cindy it would be, nor was Dr. Clint. Instead, Dr. Clint's launch was there. His launch, a small motorboat, was there to take Cindy to the yacht, which was anchored in. Helming the launch was a young Polynesian woman named Jasmine. She identified herself as Dr. Clint's pilot. Cindy boarded the launch and sat back as Jasmine piloted the small boat out into the sound

Ms. Jacqui liked for Cindy and the other dancers to keep a diary of their "business experiences." However, she urged her dancers not to use their clients real or full names in their reports. So, Cindy had gotten into the habit of mentally creating aliases for people she met. Thus, she started thinking of Dr. Clint's pilot as "Captain Jazz".

"Captain Jazz" didn't look much older than Cindy, and she certainly wasn't any taller. She looked like a cross between a Japanese school girl and a sea captain. She had long black hair and long legs encased in black nylon hose. She wore a pleated, navy blue, knee-length skirt; a navy blue blazer, a white blouse, and a black tie. When Captain Jazz spoke, she spoke with a highly polished British accent. However, she mostly sat quietly as she steered the small craft towards a large yacht.

Cindy had spent enough time, the past 19 months, with sailors and boaters to know a little about boats. From what she could tell, Dr. Clint's yacht looked to be at least a 150 footer. It looked like a small ocean liner with three exposed decks.

At the stern or back of the ship, on the lowest of the three exposed decks, stood a blond man with a ponytail and a goatee. He was a relatively slender white man of average height. The man wore sandals, khaki slacks, a flowery "Hawaiian" print shirt, dark sunglasses, and a white captain's hat. It was a costume that Cindy had seen worn many times before around the island.

The man welcomed Cindy on board and introduced himself as Dr. Clint. Then, taking Cindy's duffel from her, he handed the bag to Jasmine and instructed Jasmine to get the ship under way. Captain Jazz took the bag and walked away. Dr. Clint then explained to Cindy that they would be taken a little cruise around Pamlico Sound.

Dr. Clint, like Captain Jazz, spoke formal English, but from his accent, she could tell that English was not his native tongue. In fact, he said his name in such a precise and clipped way, Cindy began thinking of him as "Doctor Clipped" instead of "Dr. Clint". However, "Clipped" and "Clint" somehow kept getting entangled in Cindy's mind, and before long she began thinking of him as "Doctor Clit".

Having been on several "little cruises" already around the sound, Cindy was not all concerned. So, she followed Doctor Clit to up one level. There he treated Cindy to a light supper while the ship moved away from Merrimac Island. Actually, several of Dr. Clint's crew members served dinner to he and Cindy while he presented his lecture on "The Use of Biochemicals in Behavioural Control" to her. Cindy listened politely but didn't really pay much attention to it. It much too boring, and she didn't understand what Doctor Clit was talking about.

When supper was done, he directed Black Anna - Cindy's name for one of the servers - to show Cindy where the head (or bathroom) was. He wanted Cindy to be sure and freshen up before they got down to business. Once Cindy had finished, Black Anna was to escort Cindy to the library.

Black Anna did as instructed and guided Cindy to first the head and then the library. Then, the two women parted company. The library was a window-less cabin with shelves and cabinets lining the walls. On the right side of the cabin stood a desk with an executive chair behind it. The top of the desk was completely bare. On the left side of the cabin were a sofa, a coffee table, and two chairs. Doctor Clit sat on the sofa.

Doctor Clit had changed clothes. He was no longer wearing his "laid-back sailor suit." He'd even taken off his dark glasses, and Cindy could see his black eyes beneath his bushy black eyebrows. Now, he simply wore a red and black kimono. He didn't even wear any underwear. Cindy knew this because she could see his limp dick and heavy balls through an opening in the kimono.

However, his little flash of flesh didn't faze Cindy one bit, and she and Doctor Clit got down to business. First, he and Cindy coordinated expectations. That is, he expected her to act out certain BDSM fantasies with him. She in turn expected him to pay her a lot of money for acting out his fantasies. Once they understood what each wanted, he told Cindy to take off all her clothes.

Cindy kicked off her shoes, walked to the center of the room, and began stripping. Remembering what Ms. Jacqui had said and judging from his tone of voice, Cindy didn't put on a show, but got undressed as quickly as she could.

Quickly in succession came off her jeans, her cami, and then her panties. When Cindy was completely naked, she picked her clothes off the floor and placed them on one of the chairs beside the sofa. Then, she stepped back and let Doctor Clit admire her nude form.

Dr. Clit took his time and enjoyed the view. Cindy knew that he liked what he saw because she saw his dick stiffen and poke out of his robe. However, he made no attempts to cover himself. Instead, he had her turn around and assume several different positions so that he could thoroughly study her brown little body. When he was done, he had her go bend over the desk.

Cindy immediately turned around, walked over to the clean desk and bent over it. She fully expected the top of the desk to be cold. She was not disappointed. She caught her breath as her exposed flesh made contact with the chilled desktop. Since he wanted to act out a BDSM fantasy, Cindy also fully expected Doctor Clit to start spanking her. However, this time she was mistaken.

Instead, Doctor Clit got off the sofa and slipped on a pair of rubber gloves. Then, he pulled a small bottle of lotion from a pocket of his kimono and stood behind Cindy. He told her to spread her legs and reach back and spread her butt cheeks. When she had done as instructed, Doctor Clit squatted directly behind her and began smearing lotion in and around Cindy's butthole.

Cindy had been sodomized so many times that her asshole was not at all tight. So, Doctor Clit's fingers easily slipped inside her. She grunted when his fingers initially pushed past her anal ring, but otherwise she made no sound. He asked if he was hurting her, but Cindy assured him that she was in no pain.

Doctor Clit grunted something unintelligible and inserted something small, hard, and round deep inside her rectum. When she asked him what that was, he told her that it was a special aphrodisiac he wanted to try out on her - or rather in her.

Then, he pulled off his gloves and gave her a firm swat on her fanny. Cindy yelped as much in surprise as in pain, releasing her grip on her buttocks. He told her that the swat was for being too nosy. He then put on a new pair of gloves, reached down, and started playing with her clitoris.

Cindy started groaning loudly and yelling how much she liked his touch. This was because, as with her ass, a lot of different people - women more than men - have played with her button. They usually expected Cindy to make a lot of noise when they did. When she didn't, they - men more than women - were often disappointed. She realized that she hadn't made much noise when he was greasing her asshole. So, she decided that she would make up for it by acting as if his stroking turned her on.

However, Doctor Clit was not impressed. He could tell from looking at her crotch, that she wasn't as aroused as she wanted him to think. So, he slapped her butt again and demanded that she stopped moaning and groaning.

He didn't want to fake her it, he told her, but instead wanted her to do her best to remain silent. That way when she did react to his stimulation, he would know that the aphrodisiac was working. With Cindy thoroughly admonished, Doctor Clit then resumed his gentle manipulation of her clitoris.

Cindy took this to mean that it was a contest. This wasn't too unusual, since guys always wanted to compete. However, this was a test of her patience, and Cindy was up to the challenge.

So she braced herself and did her best not to make any sort of sound. And, after several minutes, the most he'd gotten out of her was a couple of grunts and a snort. In fact, she was so successful at controlling herself that she knew it would be quite some time before she even started moaning and groaning.

But even as she was thinking this, his finger brushed her clit once again, and she suddenly caught her breath. Another stroke, and she yelped. He stroked her again, and she clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. But, then he stroked her yet again.

She arched her back, cried out, and came. However, Doctor Clit didn't stop. He stroked her one more time. Her muscles convulsed. She screamed uncontrollably and incoherently. Her mind exploded, and then there was darkness.