Until now.
She hasn’t answered my question asking who she is yet, so I repeat it, harsher this time.
“¿Quién eres?”
Instead of answering, she goes back to struggling. Something about that soft, bare ass and smooth, brown skin slithering against my naked front side allows Mother Nature to take its natural course. I grip tighter and lean down to talk into her ear.
“In case you haven’t noticed, you aren’t doing yourself any favors by struggling. Keep it up, and I may find another way to get answers from you, one that’s far more enjoyable—for me, at any rate. I doubt you’ll feel the same.”
Her struggling ceases long enough to listen to me. Then, she starts up again, this time, less like a slippery eel and more like an escape artist, testing my grip.
I’m no rapist, but I had hoped the threat of it would be enough to still this struggle. Maybe there’s something lost in translation?
“Do you speak Spanish?” I hiss in English.
The fact that she’s gone perfectly still in response to that question doesn’t tell me much. Either it’s a reaction to me speaking English, or it’s the very pronounced dick, now hard and throbbing as it presses into her ass cheek.
She doesn’t look Spanish, at least not entirely. The bronze skin and thick, curly hair hint at some kind of mix. From what little I’ve glimpsed of her, it’s one that works well.
“I’ll take that as a yes to English?”
She still doesn’t move a muscle. Nor does she answer.
I shift my hand so that it cups one of her naked breasts, then I squeeze, just firmly enough to elicit a soft mewl from her. I take one of her nipples between my thumb and finger, pinching it lightly, causing it to harden.
Her mewling turns into a moan.
It has the effect of sending the blood rushing to my dick, causing it to press even harder into her ass. Hopefully, that will convince her, even if my words don’t.
“¡Dime! Tell me!” I order, using both languages for good measure.
She wriggles again, trying my patience to the point of anger. One of her arms escapes, and she points toward one of the small clearings by the water. I follow the direction of her arm and notice for the first time the clothes lying there.
Well, that answers one question.
So, she isn’t some mermaid, risen from the sea and transformed into a woman.
I take in enough from this distance to recognize the same cloth from my brief stint at the convent.
“¿Una monja? You’re a nun?”
There’s a slight pause before she nods her head in the affirmative. I’m not sure what the pause was for, but at least now I have an idea how she got here.
My eyes scan the cliff, finding that small opening near the top that the five-year-old me found once upon a time. I laugh as I consider the fact that one of the nuns managed to make it through that hole and down the cliffs.
To swim naked?
Her tragic mistake.
Instead of releasing her to recover her clothes, I push off the rocky bottom of the lagoon I’m standing on and swim her toward my boat. She’s too stunned to do more than squeak out a cry of surprise.
If she was under the impression that I’m a gentleman, she’s about to learn the truth.
I reach the steps at the stern of my boat and struggle to drag her up and into the small cabin below. There isn’t much beyond a bar, bathroom, and open space where a wide bed is situated.
I toss her completely naked onto the bed, happy to be rid of her, if only for a moment. She’s smaller than me but spirited. And fucking sexy, now that I have a better look at her.
I wait for her to scramble and cover herself with the sheets, even as I stand there fully naked with a half-erect dick.
She stares at it with a mixture of trepidation and…curiosity?
Maybe she really is a nun.
Who swims naked?
“So English or Español?” I ask once she seems somewhat settled.
She just stares at me for a moment, then brings one hand up to her lips and shakes her head, no.
I chuckle and shake my own head in disbelief. When I steady it to give her a hard stare, I decide on a different tactic. “Okay, just nod then. English?”
She pauses, her gaze flickering. Just when I’m about to switch to Spanish, she shrugs and nods.
“Good, that’s progress. Now, what the fuck were you doing in my lagoon…Sister?”
She straightens up, looking indignant. I already know I’m not going to get an answer.
Sure enough, no answer is forthcoming.
I walk over to a locked cabinet door and use my thumbprint to open it. I pull out a pair of handcuffs. It also holds a gun and other bits of “just in case” paraphernalia. I always travel prepared.
Her eyes go wide when she sees the cuffs, and she begins to scramble across the bed, taking the sheets with her. I take hold of one corner and whip it away, forcefully enough to rip it right out of her grip. While she sits there stunned at her sudden nudity, I grab hold of her ankle and drag her back toward me.
I reach out to wrest one hand away so I can slap one of the cuffs on it, then attach the other side to the handhold near the bed.
Now, the moans and whines of protest come. So she’s not mute. Which is something I can work with.
Because I plan on getting answers from her one way or another.
Starting with who she is.
* * *
Thank you for reading!
If you are
