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Again the doctor flopped his hand, in a noncommittal way. “We’ll see.”
No sex. I could tell Cassius was rather miffed by that. It made me think some more about the man and how he really believed the doctor might be a Satan worshipper, yet he’d batted zero eyelids when I was ordered away last night. The dull ache in my backside was a potent advertisement for the doctor’s therapy. He might have been about to tie me to a table and dance around while cutting out my heart.
He might have, but my deductions and my emotional radar had both delivered a big nope to that hypothesis.
Cassius, though? Attack puppy indeed. He was a lovely dominant man whose dick I’d suck for free, especially when he shoved it into me with his belt about my face…but I could not rely on him for any deep thinking about what might lie ahead.
Just because I was curious, and to tease the man, I wriggled from the doctor’s hold, then slithered down to the end of the bed. I went to the tall standing mirror. Like many pieces of furniture here, it was ornate, with a silvered, rococo-themed frame. The feet at the bottom were grotesque claws resting on balls. I turned around so my rear was to the mirror and looked over my shoulder as I lifted the cheeks of my bottom—as if to better see the marks from the cane.
Truthfully, I was keen to see them. The leftover bruises and marks were a thrill in and of themselves. The men were watching me, of course—the doctor up on his elbow while Cassius sat firmly upright, with his dick doing the same.
I switched around to present my ass to them. “I love the marks, sir. Like them, Cassius?” I swayed and pulled at my ass again, showing off every nook and cranny.
His groan was perfection.
The doctor drawled, “I think she might be teasing you.” He rolled to the edge of the bed and scrubbed his face. By then I was sauntering to the chest of drawers to find clothes. My smirk was suppressed to a mild smile, I thought.
“She is. So I can fuck her into the mattress then?”
“You’re on probation, Charity. One more prick tease and I’ll let him string you up at the beach and do something nasty to you.” He stepped over, floorboards creaking from his weight, and made me bend at the waist, then he gave my ass a smack. “Nice, definitely. The bite shows, too, Cassius. Be content with that, for now.”
* * *
We disembarked from the car at Rose Bay, unpacked the food and gear, plus the other things. The doctor perched on a sun lounge with his mysterious gift box in hand. It was quite large and had me puzzled as to what it could be.
“Here. Yours, to use wisely.” He handed it up to me. I had to take it in both hands, due to the weight.
As I wandered to the adjacent lounge, I picked at the tape on the red wrapping. I sat and set it beside me, then removed all the paper, revealing…
“A drone?” I pulled things out, figured out what they were, and wondered exactly how much the doctor had deduced. I piled everything beside the box. The foam padding contained manuals, a buoy, a lithium battery, a huge amount of cable…
“Here. I’ll put it together and show you how, then I can swim in peace. This is in lieu of you diving and half-drowning yourself.” He eyed me skeptically. “Okay?”
“Okay. I’m still swimming though.”
“Swimming is fine.”
Messing around in the sea with the two of them was too attractive to be ignored completely, and as I expected, Cassius sexually molested me when we were close. Including, when I kissed him, or pinched his butt, or swam too near his legs. All of this was fun, and I could barely recall why the fuck I wanted to see the end of that tunnel.
Still, I had to do it. What I’d said to the doctor was correct—my curiosity was insatiable.
Having practiced under the doctor’s instruction and by myself, in the more open and less rock-strewn area of the little bay, I swam the buoy closer to the rocks and had Cassius take it right over the middle, where the tunnel entrance just below and a little inshore. He didn’t know that, neither did the doctor.
I felt like a schoolgirl sneaking a drag of marijuana with the boyfriend while my parents were in the backyard watering the garden, all unawares.
The buoy transmitted the WIFI signal back and forth to the console in my hand, along with the video feed from the drone. A small screen in fairly good resolution showed me what the drone saw ahead. It was dicey sending it into the tunnel as the tether could get stuck. Luckily, the drone was far smaller than me in width, as well as length. If it did get wedged or hooked on something c’est la vie, as the French might say. The doctor would find out why I was doing this, if that happened. I was ready with my confession. My ass might suffer, but I was ready.
I tested out their interest by swimming out to look at the buoy or the surfaced drone a few times, then waiting until they were dozing in the shade beneath the trees after a late brunch.
Finally, I edged the drone deeper, and entered the tunnel. The screen was small, but the battery life was great. Steering it was frustrating even though the signal came back in real time. I’d already seen the big differences with using a drone underwater and not my own fragile human body that needed air.
Not being able to drown was the first difference, naturally.
Being able to take it slowly was the game changer, though—I could go as slowly as I wanted to, make it study obstacles before I cruised it past them. The only real anxiety was in my wish not to get caught doing this because the doctor would wonder why I needed to go there and see the end.
Why did I? Because a cavity beneath a tower destroyed by the Nazis during WW2 was fascinating. Yeah, I insisted to myself, that was it, that was all of it.
It wasn’t, though, my dark subconscious whispered. It really wasn’t.
