This story takes place in the same setting as the caption story “Cruising” I posted a couple of months ago. The stories are unrelated, but it might help establish some background for ya’ll. Here’s Part 1 and Part 2.
Samuel rolled over on the chaise under the hot, Caribbean sun, looking over at Jeremy. His husband was rolled away from him, talking to a stranger on the other side–flirting really, but then, everyone around them was flirting. This was the Gay Fantasy Cruise Lines after all, and it delivered. Was there anyone who worked for this company that didn’t have a perfect eight pack displayed at all time? He listened to the two of them chat, Jeremy trying too hard like he always did, and wished Jeremy would talk to him like that, at least on occasion. It was the second day of the cruise, but he estimated that the number of words the two of them had spoken during their vacation was less than two hundred, and nothing of any substance, sexy or romantic or otherwise. Were they on this cruise to save their relationship, or put it to sleep? He rolled back over and shut his eyes, enjoying the sun, if nothing else. He feigned sleep, heard Jeremy get up off the chaise, and take off.
It wasn’t the sex that bothered him. He’d never been the jealous type. But wasn’t this supposed to be a vacation for them? Together? He couldn’t even invite Samuel to come along for a threesome? He opened his eyes, staring up at that deep endless blue, and sighed. He’d known this wouldn’t work, but regardless of their ailing relationship, they both had needed a vacation. Maybe freeing himself from one rut would help him get out of a few others. He sat up, stretched, and looked around the deck of the ship, certainly pleased with the view–and more than happy with the stares he was getting as well. It wasn’t like either of them was lacking in the looks department. They each spent a good chunk of time keeping themselves fit, and even though they’d each just passed the big forty a couple years back, Samuel was quite pleased with the muscle bear he’d become–a bit of grey in his goatee and chest hair, a little weathered around his eyes, hairline receding slightly, but without becoming unsightly. If Jeremy was just going to spend the whole cruise fucking instead of dealing with anything deeper, there was no reason for him to bother, right?
He cruised another bear on the other side of the pool for a minute, gauging interest, when a member of the hyper-muscled waitstaff stepped between them, smiling down at Samuel. “Thanks,” Samuel said, waving him off, “I don’t need a drink or anything.”
“Actually sir, one of our VIP members has taken an interest in you, and has requested that you be added to his package.”
Samuel looked around the man at the bear, surprised, then back at the waiter, “What does that mean?”
“Men who opt to become part of a VIP member’s package have their cruise fee refunded, receive a significant stipend for each day they remain a member of the package, as well as other benefits. Any modifications are of course removed at the end of the cruise, though some after effects have been reported. Affirmative consent is required. Terms and conditions apply, of course. Would you like to read them? I am required to advise you that you should do so.”
Samuel, a professional in the legal field, was a bit taken aback by the string of jargon, but he’d never really been one of shy away from risk. Besides, it was just a cruise, right? “Sure, why not? I consent.”
“Very good sir, Mr. Bishop will be pleased. Now, if you would just press your thumb here…” he presented an small electronic screen. He pressed his thumb to the screen, and immediately an electric shock shot through him, paralyzing him. “Now, just a matter of administering your control chip,” the waiter bent Samuel’s head forward, and pressed something cold and metallic to the base of his neck, and a piercing pain sent sharp pain to the end of what seemed like every nerve in his body. “The chip will be removed at the end of the cruise, or when your VIP no longer desires you to be in his package experience. Thank you for volunteering, and helping make our VIP’s experience on Gay Fantasy Cruise Lines an unforgettable experience!”
The paralysis was wearing off, and Samuel was able to reach around behind his head, and feel the bump at the base of his neck. “What the hell did you just do to me, you fuck?” he shouted.
“I did advise you to read the TOS, if you’ll remember, as required. Now, follow me, and I’ll escort you to your VIP.”
The waiter stepped back, and Samuel wasn’t about to follow this crazy fuck anywhere, but much to his surprise, he stood up–his body disobeying his own mind entirely. “What–how the fuck did you do that? You fucking, this is fucking insane! I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Don’t worry, once we reach your VIP, I’ll transfer complete control to him. Now, come along, and don’t make a scene.”
Samuel followed behind the young gymrat, watching his tight ass swing back and forth in those tight trunks they all wear, sailor hat perched perfectly askew, and he hated him. He wanted to drown him in the pool, he wanted to savage him, but instead, he simply followed the smug, crazy fuck off. Samuel was still assuming, at this point, that the VIP had been the bear he’d been cruising, but at the corner of the pool, they kept going straight, towards the entrance to the ship. “Wait, where are you going? I thought he was back there?”
The waiter looked back, over his shoulder, “Who, that bear you were looking at earlier? Oh no! Mr. Bishop is up in the VIP lounge. He’s been watching you for most of the morning, along with a few other candidates I was prepared to invite to join his package if you declined. He’ll be very happy to know that his first choice agreed! It always makes me so happy when our VIPs are happy, you have no idea!”
“I should at least tell my husband–”
“Jeremy will be notified of your new status, when he’s done with the guest he left with earlier.”
They got to an elevator, stepped inside, and started to rise. Apparently, he should have read that fucking fine print–and now, who knew what the fuck he’d gotten himself into.
Bracken's Corner 