The Sexy Shipwreck Tales

Prepare to be blown off course with nine sexy shipwreck-themed stories by these dauntless erotica authors. Whether you're stranded on an abandoned mining asteroid with a brazen librarian, seduced by a siren's song while partying with rock stars, parlaying over booty with the restless crew of a sunken schooner, or marooned in the refuge of a mad scientist, you won't be left high and dry. So, come aboard. Tantalizing adventures await!

Book 1: Fire & Ice by Olivia Lawless

Book 2: A Wolf Amongst the Waves by Sigh

Book 3: The Kepler Incident by Saddletramp1956

Book 4: The Call of His Castle by Salazar Zed

Book 5: Laid to Rest by Clea Salar & Tallis Salar

Book 6: Lust at Sea by Mr. & Mrs. B L Wood

Book 7: The Island by Christian Pan

Book 8: Verity Undercover by Megan Landon

Book 9: The Island of Dr. Lilith by Katie Oslow

Dedication

Thank you to everyone at the Erotica Consortium. Thank you to Olivia Lawless for organizing this collection and to Tallis for his work on the cover. I appreciate all your hard work and dedication.

Sigh

Chapter One

"Do I believe in ghosts?" my blind date snorted. "You're goddamn right I believe in em'. Wanna know how I know? I've kissed one!"

"Seriously?" I laughed. "Ok, hold up. Back that truck up. This I have to hear!"

I was about to make the stupid "beep, beep" sound but the voice in the back of my head that I'd put in charge of making sure I didn't make a complete ass of myself objected. Be cool, it reminded me and above all else remember, your hobbies include hiking, cooking and buying thoughtful gifts for important anniversaries.

"I want the details," I said in my suavest voice. "All of them."

She sat back and raised an eyebrow. "You think I'm a crackpot, don't you?"

"What? No, absolutely not," I replied. "In fact, I bet I have you beat. I've seen lots of super weird stuff, UFOs, legendary monsters. It's all totally normal for me. I rarely go through the day without seeing at least one dead relative floating down an empty hallway."

She studied me for a second then smiled. "Hmmm ok, I'll tell you but you gotta promise not to laugh."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," I replied.

"Ok," she said, leaned across the table and lowered her voice to a whisper. "But this story doesn't leave this table. Got it?"

"Got it."

She smiled again and I mentally prepared myself for whatever she was about to say. I'd been on some pretty strange dates, but so far, this one took the cake. Most were major flops, often fizzling out before our drinks arrived. One might say I was becoming a bit of a seasoned pro, a real all-star of the dating scene. I had a short list that I mentally kept track of, checking off as the red flags were raised. Divorced? Check. Strange obsession with their ex? Check. Were they a sponge for bizarre conspiracy theories? Double check. Dumb? ... well, I could work with dumb. Who was I to judge? It wasn't as if I had a wall of diplomas back at my small shabby apartment.

So far, so good. Plus, I was grading on a curve. After months of comically bad dates, I was about ready to settle down and marry the first person who could string together a complete sentence and didn't berate the wait staff when they made a small mistake.

... and holy fuck was she hot. Her eyes were pools of aqua blue, her hair the color of a bail of golden hay bathing under a summer sun. The minute I saw her online I knew she was out of my league, but I figured, fuck it, why not?

I took my shot and was shocked when she replied. We messaged back and forth and agreed to meet up at a local bar for a few drinks. Nothing too serious, just a chance to see if there was a spark before we started exchanging all our major social media information.

"I know this is going to sound super cheesy, but I swear it's true ... I'm a super model."

I believe you, was what I was about to say.  Thankfully it didn't get past the filter.

"Oh yea?" I replied, stretching the limits of my acting ability.

'Yup, no day job for me, just glamorous fashion shoots, endless champagne toasts and toxic relationships with rock stars."

"Really?" I asked.

"Well no, except for the part about the rock stars. That's pretty much universally true. It's actually a brutal gig. Lots of auditions that never pan out and the downtime between shoots is mind numbing. Plus, the average career of a supermodel is shorter than the lifespan of a gnat and often as memorable."

I considered comparing her profession to my rather dull office job but chose not to. Who would be interested in the opinion of a copy editor?

"All the champagne you can drink? That doesn't sound too bad."

"Well," she said, her eyes drifting off to a horizon only she saw. "It was ... at least, until the ah ... after that I had to hang up my angel wings and get a regular nine to five."

"Tropical bikini shoot gone array?" I asked. "Nasty sunburn? Food poisoning? Vicious cat fight?"

"Not quite," she said, took a sip of her drink and gave me a devilish grin. "Have you ever heard of the band Ring the lads?"

"Hmmm ... ish?" I replied.

"Well, you at least know about the urban legend surrounding their last music video, right?"

"Vaguely," I replied. "I remember hearing that there was an accident during the shoot and most of the footage was lost at sea."

"That's partially true," she said and took another drink. "And do you wanna know how I know that?" she asked.

"Sure," I shrugged.

"Because I was on that yacht ... and I know what happened ... what really happened. Wanna hear it?"

I looked at her. The voice in the back of my head was waving several red flags, screaming at me to abort.

"Sure," I replied, sheepishly.

"All right. In order to really get it, to really understand just how bat shit crazy it actually was, I need you to strut a mile in my heels. "Ready?" she asked.

"Ready," I replied.

"Ok, close your eyes."

I closed my eyes.

"Now imagine it's three in the morning and you're on a private yacht in the middle of a tropical sea. Your head is a fishbowl full of drugs and alcohol and Simon, the lead singer of Ring the lads has just opened another five-thousand-dollar bottle of champagne to toast the success of his most recent and tragically last hit song."

Chapter Two

"God damn bubbly, I done spilled most of it down me trousers," Simon slurred, dropping the bottle as he slapped away at the champagne pouring down his leather pants.

"James, be a good lad and open another bottle. Can't do a proper toast without a decent bottle of bubbly."

James grunted, slithered out from behind the small table in the cramped cabin and shuffled off towards the kitchen.

"Not a total loss," Simon said gesturing towards the champagne pooled in the crease of his crotch. "Any takers?"

Roxy was the first to stand up. Of the three models paid for the shoot she was the tallest. She was also one of the last to have made it this late into the evening. Abby, the youngest, had bowed out early and crawled back to her bunk to sleep. Nicki was perched on a bar stool, still awake but barely, her head resting on her closed fist, occasionally bolting up when she nodded off.

Scott, the director and their intrepid leader had passed out after the first round of shots and was now cuddled up in a ball in an armchair, lightly snoring.

Roxy crossed the cabin, her eyes glued to Simon. She was like a streak of lightning, every curve sizzling hot. She wore a pair of frayed jean shorts that had deteriorated into a thong and the string bikini she'd worn during the shoot.

... bikini, what a joke, Nicki thought as she watched her from across the room. It was a foot of dental floss posing as an article of clothing.

Roxy stopped in front of Simon and looked down. "That's hardly enough to quench my thirst, sugar," she said playfully.

Simon looked up at her and sneered. "Sounds like you got quite the appetite doll. Thirsty?"

She moved in closer and toyed with her thick black curly hair. "Famished," she teased in a voice dripping like honey.

She leaned forward, her ample breasts hung like a pair of low hanging fruit. Then, with the agility of a gymnast, she slowly lowered herself to her knees, parted his legs, looked up at him and gently batted her eyes. "May I?"

Simon watched her, mildly amused. Nicki had seen it all before. When Roxy wanted something, she was a bulldozer, flattening everything in her path till she got what she wanted, which was why this was particularly odd. She had never given a rat's ass about rock stars before, why now?

Roxy leaned forward, her eyes locked on Simon and lapped at the champagne pooled in his crotch. "Yummy," she said in a voice that would make a porn star blush.

She swallowed, looked up at him and opened her mouth. "All gone," she said, showing him. "Can I have some more daddy?"

Simon stared at her with a dull blank expression. Whatever game she was playing, she was several moves ahead of him. Had she short-circuited his brain?

Their eyes remained locked, caught in a fierce battle. He was daring her to go further. Would she? Fuck, Nicki thought, was Roxy really going to give him a blowjob in front of everyone?

Roxy smiled devilishly, brought her hand down, traced the lines of his zipper, the bulge of his hard cock begging to be freed and ...

"Well, I don't know fuck all about champagne, but this one looked about rig ... oh for fucks sake, really Simon? Again?" James said as he burst through the cabin's door.

Roxy, who wasn't embarrassed in the slightest, got up and curled up beside Simon.

Nicki slid off her bar stool, walked over to James and looked down at the bottle of champagne. "May I?" she asked.

James shrugged and handed her the bottle. She wiped off the thick layer of dust, then looked back up at the band.

"How did you two manage to score this fine vessel anyway? We're not pirates, are we?"

Simon leaned back and stretched out like a cat, his button up shirt exposing his tanned chest. Years of touring and a heavy regiment of recreational drugs hadn't put a dent in his finely chiseled physique. Roxy brought her hand down and started to gently trace the lines of his abs.

"It's the record labels CEO's pride and joy. He loaned it to us for the shoot. He's got everything riding on this album."

Nicki gestured at the sleeping director. "And him?"

"He's supposed to be an A list director, a real prodigy behind the camera."

Nicki thought back to the shoot. It had been a brutal day. As the sun peeked above the horizon, they'd gotten dolled up, squeezed into bikinis and spent every minute of sunlight under the unblinking gaze of the director's camera. She'd worked with her fair share of directors, photographers and designers. This one didn't seem to know what he wanted, often redoing the same shot again, and again ... and again, till her cheeks ached from holding a fake smile. Thankfully, it was over, and a fat paycheck was waiting for her when they reached shore tomorrow.

"Do the honors doll, you've earned it," Simon grunted.

Nicki aimed the bottle like a shotgun and popped the cork. It went off with a loud bang and a plumb of foamy bubbles poured out. She then went around the room and filled everyone's glasses. Simon raised his. "To gold baby, number one."

Everyone who was still awake raised their glass and toasted to the success of the band.

"It's certainly not a bad way to make a living," Roxy said, downing hers in one gulp.

"Damn straight," Simon said, raised his glass, mimicked her and almost choked.

Nicki walked over to a porthole, took a sip and nervously looked out into the darkness. It was uncomfortably bleak outside, like a sheet of black velvet had been draped over the entire yacht.

Simon, as if able to sense her uneasiness, chimed in. "Ever sleep out on the open sea before, doll?"

"No," Nicki replied and took another sip.

"There's nothing to worry about. You're just clinging to a tin can, bopping up and down several thousand feet above the ocean floor in a sea full of things that would pick your bones clean in less than an hour if they got half the chance."

Nicki ignored him and continued to stare out through the porthole trying to find something to anchor her eyes too. There was nothing, even the small specks of light flickering in the distant sky seemed to dance erratically.

"... and all that pales in comparison to the real horror that lurks out there."

She turned and scowled at him. "You're just trying to fuck with me."

He smiled at her like a viper. Roxy rested her head on his shoulder as her hand crept down, further towards his belt buckle.

"I wouldn't dream of it, doll. Care for a quick bedtime story before we call it a night?" he asked.

Nicki looked at him coldly, walked back across the cabin, grabbed the champagne bottle and flopped down in front of him. "Do your worst."

He smiled and leaned forward. "I didn't want to freak anyone out, so I kept it on the lowdown, but we had to fly the crew in. Wanna know why?"

Nicki took a drink directly from the bottle. "Please, enlighten me."

Simon gestured for the bottle. Nicki reluctantly handed it to him.

"There was no shortage of local experienced sailors, but we ran into a snag. They all refused to sign up when they found out we were doing an overnight shoot in these waters. Can you believe that?" he asked, took a drink from the bottle and handed it back to her.

She took it from him. "You're going to tell me why, aren't you?"

"It wouldn't be a ghost story if I didn't mention the fucking ghosts."

"Ghosts?" Roxy asked, looking up at him. "Seriously? I don't buy it."

James walked over, joined Nicki on the floor and gestured for the bottle. She handed it to him, and he took a drink. "This is all news to me," he said then handed it to Roxy.

Simon continued. "So, it took some digging, but apparently there's a legend, a curse that the locals take very fucking seriously."

"Sounds suspiciously like bullshit," Roxy said and took a drink.

"I thought so too, but it turns out there's a grain of truth to it. A few years back a couple rented a sailboat for their honeymoon, nothing unusual about that, lots of tourists do it. They chartered the boat and sailed out. The bride was a real doll, woulda swept any beauty pageant without breaking a sweat. The groom had several American cups in his trophy case, so no one doubted he was an experienced sailor."

Simon gestured for the bottle. Roxy handed it to him. He took a drink, then wiped his mouth with his greasy hand.

"... which is why the locals were shocked when they discovered him washed up on the beach several days later looking like he'd been chewed up by a great white. He was alone, no bride. The police suspected foul play. I mean, who wouldn't? forensics confirmed the cuts were from a blade, and considering most were in his back, unlikely self-inflicted. His version of the story: late into the evening on the third night he woke up, said he heard someone singing. He was alone in his cabin, so he got up, searched for his new bride and found her at the stern, staring off into nothing, body as still as a mannequin. He assumed she was sleep walking. He reached out, touched her shoulder and ..."

Simon took another drink.

"It's not in the police report. The local cops scrubbed it, claiming the groom was hysterical, that he was practically foaming at the mouth. He claimed that when he spun her around, she was as white as a sheet, expressionless. It was her eyes that spooked him. He described them as being lifeless, black, like a doll's eyes."

Simon looked at the bottle, it was empty. He set it down on the table.

"Doc said he was lucky to be alive, said she'd put more holes in him than a slice of Swiss cheese."

"Real scary," Roxy said sarcastically. "And what was her side of the story?"

"No one knows. The boat was never found, nor the bride. Maybe it went under, maybe she made a run for it, maybe she drowned. But that's not what the locals believe. Many have claimed to have heard her under a starless night, howling like a banshee, stalking the open seas, desperately searching for her beloved for all eternity until they are finally reunited." Simon said, then sat back.

Nicki began to slowly clap sarcastically. "How very droll," she said and started to get up. "That's enough scary bedtime stories for me. I'm wiped and if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some shut eye."

"Good plan," James said and joined her. "Should we wake up our fearless director?"

Nicki looked over at the director. What was his name again? Scott? He was sound asleep, curled up in a ball in the armchair. "I think he's found the best bed on the ship. Leave him."

James shrugged and stumbled out of the cabin. Nicki turned to look at Roxy. Neither her nor Simon had budged. "Well ... good night," she said. Roxy ignored her and continued to stare up at Simon.

Nicki turned, walked out of the cabin and into the hallway. The walls seemed to sway back and forth, pulling her in several different directions at once. Carefully, she made her way down to the lower deck and counted the doors till she found the cabin she and Abby had been assigned. Roxy had insisted on having her own private cabin and no one wanted to argue with her.

It was surprising how often their paths crossed during these shoots. Were they friends? Maybe. Better that then rivals. Nicki had absolutely no desire to be on the receiving end of Roxy's cat claws.

She walked to her cabin, reached down, gently pulled on the handle and pushed the door open. Light from the hallway poured in. Abby was still asleep, curled up under a thick blanket in her bunk. She stirred as Nicki crept into the room.

"Nicki?" she murmured. "Is that you? What ... what time is it?" she asked.

"Super late. Go back to sleep. There's still a few hours till dawn."

"Did I miss the party?" she asked, sleepily.

"Nah, it was a total dud, you didn't miss a thing," Nicki said as she slowly closed the door behind her.

"Oh, ok," Abby replied and drifted back into sleep.

Sweet girl, Nicki thought as she pulled off her tight t-shirt and wrestled with her bra’s strap. She'd only known Abby for a few months, but she'd already taken her under her wing. It was no secret that the modeling industry was full of vipers. It was notorious for chewing people up and spitting them out. Abby had a raw talent, a natural beauty which the creeps tended to gravitate towards, and it was her job to trip them up before they got their hooks into her. On occasion, Abby had jokingly called her her "nanny." The implication of age stung a bit. It was the three-letter word you never spoke of around models. If helping Abby balanced the scales a bit, gave her a boost of karma, she didn't mind, she could use it.

She eventually unhooked her bra, tossed it onto a chair, slipped out of her jean shorts, carefully made her way to her bunk and slipped under the crisp clean sheets. The bed was on par with any of the fanciest hotels she'd been holed up in during a shoot. She'd sampled her fair share, from beds that were like large inflatable marshmallows to slabs of rough granite. You could really tell a lot from a shoot based on where they shacked you up, and if it was a motel ... run.

She lay her head down on the pillow, closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind. It was a technique she'd practiced. It wasn't quite meditation, but it allowed her to ease herself into a light sleep. As she slowly drifted, dipping down below her subconscious, she saw sparks, flashes of memories from the day.

"You're going to do what?" she hissed as she flipped her hair back and turned to face away from the prying eye of the director's camera.

Roxy, who was standing beside her was bent at the waist, the blazing sun reflecting off her raised bare ass. "I'm going to flash a tit," she said with a devilish smile.

Nicki almost burst out into laughter. "Good god, why?"

As best as she could, in the awkward position she was in, Roxy shrugged. "I don't know. I just think it would be bad ass if I could sneak a nipple into the finished cut of the music video."

"I guess, but like ... is anyone even going to see it?" Nicki asked.

"Probably not. Not unless they tape it and go frame by frame looking for it. What kinda loser would do that? besides, in a few months no one will even remember this stupid music video. Come on, do it with me. It'll be fun."

Nicki blushed, then smiled as she considered the offer.

"Ladies in the back, can we get a bit more action? I'm not really feeling the energy," Scott shouted from behind the camera.

Nicki turned back to face him. Between them was the band who had been making a damn fool of themselves as they pretended to perform their latest single. It was a miracle Simon hadn't passed out wearing so much leather, Nicki thought. And Poor ol' James who was stuffed into a three-piece suit looked like he was ready to throw his guitar overboard.

"Scott, Can we take a break?" James asked as he unshouldered his guitar and pulled his tie loose. "It's bloody hot as hell and I feel like an idiot pretending to play this stupid thing when it's not even plugged in."

"Yea, sure, of course," Scott said, lowered his camera and hit pause on the small tape deck playing the demo version of the band's new song. "Let's take a quick five. But then we're right back at it. I don't want to lose the light."

Simon and James immediately headed over to a cooler, popped open a can of beer and downed it.

"If you guys are gonna ... you know, can I join you?" Abby asked from beside Roxy. Had she overheard them?

Nicki felt the blood rush to her cheeks. "I ah ... I don't know if you wanna do that. I mean, it'll be on film."

"So?" Abby asked, defensibly. "So what?"

Nicki ducked down from the plastic canopy the three models had been dancing on, and into one of the few shaded sanctuaries. "Well, I mean that might not be one of the things you want haunting you ... later."

Roxy followed her into the shade and leaned against the wall. She was clearly enjoying every second of this.

"What do you mean ... later? Like after the shoot?" Abby asked as she hopped down and joined them.

"Well, no. I mean ... later, later."

Abby looked at her confused.

"What she's trying to say, lamb," Roxy said as she fished several bottles of water out from an open cooler. "Is that you don't want a fuzzy still image of your tits hanging out resurfacing when you're up for reelection at your local school board's parents advisory board."

"Why would I want to be on a parents advisory board?" Abby asked, even more confused.

"Well, not specifically that," Nicki said, flustered. "The point is that after all this is ov ... well, you might want to have ... you know ...a clean slate."

"A clean slate?" Abby asked. "Do you have a clean slate?"

"Well ... I ..." Nicki said, but was interrupted by the director.

"Ladies, when you're ready. The clock is ticking."

Nicki quickly downed the rest of her bottled water and joined everyone back on the deck of the ship.

Scott set down the tape player and picked up his camera. "All right, we still need to capture the raw energy of the chorus. Remember, this is what's gonna sell the song. If we nail this, every radio station in America, the UK, hell ,even the world will be blaring it none stop, 24/7."

"Really mate? Come on, you don't really think that, do you?" Simon sneered. "It's only a bloody music video. Load of rubbish if you ask me."

"Only a music video ... only a music video!" Scott growled as he lowered his camera. "Do you know what I turned down for this gig, the offers? The studios were practically beating my door down to sign me to do their next feature ... only a music video?"

"Ok, Jez, relax," Simon said dismissively.

"What Simon means to say ..." James said, quickly leaping in. "Is that we appreciate all your hard work and dedication."

"Thank you," Scott said, calming down. "Now, can we please get started?

"Absolutely," James said, nudging Simon towards the deck.

Once everyone was in position, Scott raised his camera and prepared to shoot. Roxy peered over her shoulder at the other two models. "Ready?"

"Seriously?" Nicki asked.

Roxy looked over at Abby and gave her a devilish grin. "Fuck the parents advisory board, right?"

Abby smiled. "Yea, fuck the parents advisory board!"

"Hold on ... hoooold on!" I said interrupting my blind date.

It snapped her out of the story. Reality came flooding back. The bar, the blind date, all of it.

"Is any of that actually true?" I asked.

She sat back, fished her phone out of her pocket and raised it. "Wanna find out?"

"Ahhh ..." I replied. "That's all right. Not right now."

She pocketed her phone, picked up her drink and took a sip. "Where was I again?" she asked.

"You were talking about flashing the camera during the shoot."

"Right, of course. I'm not boring you, am I?"

"Not at all," I replied. "Would you like another drink?"

"In a bit. I don't want to lose track of where I was. Ok, I'll skip forward a bit, past all the boring stuff. It was after the wrap party, I was trying to get some sleep. Spoilers, I couldn't. So, I got up and wandered up to the main deck. Would it surprise you to discover that Roxy fucked Simon?" she asked.

"Based on how you've described her, no. Should I be?"

"Well, yes and no. I don't want to paint her in a bad light. You have to understand that in the modeling world it's not uncommon. Who you fuck is almost as important as who you wear. Get it?"

"Sure," I said, having not.

"The war stories she's told ... wow. Well, those are for another day. So, where was I? RIght, I was on the deck, and I could hear them going at it. I remember peeking in through the porthole and she had him right where she wanted him. That girl really likes to sink her claws into a guy, claim ownership. Am I surprised she brought her favorite strap-on? No. That she actually used it? Maybe a little. My first impression of Simon was that he was washed up. I'd seen her brush off bigger stars. So, what was so special about him? Who knows. Maybe it really was love at first sight."

"Maybe," I said, feeling the need to chime in.

"Anyway, there are still many sleepless nights when I lay awake and wonder what those pics would have gone for, had I had a camera on me to take them. One of the most famous rock stars in history getting pegged by a supermodel. That's gotta be worth something, right? Unfortunately, it's all academic, because I honestly don't know which shoulder I would have listened too," she said and trailed off, lost in a thought.

"Anyway, I walked to the back of the boat. What's it called again?" she asked.

"Stern," I replied.

"Really? Anyway, I wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep that night. James was hanging out at the ... stern, having a smoke. If you ever want to win over the heart of a malnourished super model, it's with a cigarette. In our circles it's considered a major food group. Ok, no more distractions, do I have your full and undivided attention, are you ready to hear what happened next?" She asked.

"Ready," I said.

"Good," she said and leaned forward. "Cause as I was standing at the back ... stern of that yacht in the dead of night, I was about to have my entire world flipped upside down."

Chapter Three

Nicki Took a drag on the cigarette, inhaled and soaked in the moment.

"I picked those up in a shop not too far from where I grew up," James said as he pulled out another cigarette.

"It's a name brand but I think they're rolled locally, or something local gets in them. Anytime we pass by I duck in and stock up. When I don't have time, I get one of the secretaries from the record label to pop in and mail em' to me. Simon Makes fun of me every time they show up at the hotel. Says it's another care package from my nan."

Nicki Laughed, turned, leaned against the railing and stared out across the empty sea. She still wasn't comfortable being on the yacht. The thought of falling overboard terrified her. At least it would be short right? A few agonizing minutes thrashing around in the water before being dragged down below the surface and spending eternity in a black abyss.

She shook the thought from her mind and tried to enjoy the view, if there was much of one to enjoy. It was black on black. She took another drag on the cigarette, exhaled and looked down, mesmerized by the water as it rolle beneath the ship, forming a wake of ivory white curls before melting back into the sea.

She looked up. She had only the vaguest idea of what was happening in the sky. She'd been told one story when she was a kid, then, in high school her teachers had spent several years trying to convince her of something else. Were there really billions of stars out there, just endlessly spinning? What was the point?

The thought made her feel small. At least in the city, under a blanket of artificial light, your place in the universe was only limited by the size of your ego.

She took another drag, then looked over at James. "I used to steal cigarettes from my mother. She swore to my grandmother that she'd quit after she found out she was pregnant. Naturally, a lie. She was terrible at hiding them and so what if a few went missing? Well, she could blast me, but it would be a real shame if ol' gran found out that her precious daughter was a miserable liar."

James lightly chuckled. "Lads and I used to tip over the ol' cigarette machines. It didn't often net us any spoils, but it was a good laugh. That's how I met Simon. He was fearless. He'd rock the machine back and forth, refusing to budge till the shop owner was about to club him in the noggin' with a broom."

Nicki laughed, then took another drag. "You've known him that long?" she asked.

"Yea, we've been inseparable ever since. There were four of us back then. We formed the band as an excuse to hang out at the pubs. I don't remember volunteering to be lead guitarist. Simon just stuck a guitar in my hands. He'd either picked it up at a pawn shop or stolen it. I never asked which and well, as they say ... the rest is history."

"And it's just you two now?" she asked.

"Yea. Touring takes a toll on you. I mean the kicks are great, don't get me wrong but you gotta hand yourself over to the lifestyle, body and soul. If you have any doubts, they'll sneak up on you, fester, then rot. I don't blame em'. Noel still sends me family photos during the holidays and Liam used what he managed to save to open up his own corner shoppe. Good lads, both of em."

"Well, you too are still going strong," Nicki said and smiled.

"Still going strong," James said, quietly. "Plus, I promised his mom I'd keep an eye on him, keep him out of trouble."

He took a long drag on his cigarette. The tip glowed bright cherry red before he flicked it overboard. "Well, I think I'm going to crash."

He turned to go. Nicki remained where she was, leaning against the railing, staring off into the darkness.

"Are whales ... nocturnal?" she asked.

He stopped, turned, and looked back at her. "What? No. At least I don't think so, why?" he asked, confused.

"Then what is that?"

He followed her gaze out across the open sea. He saw nothing. The line where the water ended, and the sky began was faint. There wasn't anything out there, just a blank void stretching to the horizon ... until there wasn't.

It appeared slowly, faint at first then took form, cradled in a light fog the color of cotton.

"Is that a ..." James whispered, straining to see.

"A boat?" Nicki replied.

"Out here? It's too small to be a sailboat. Looks like a ... fuck, I'll go raise the captain. Stay here," James said and spun around.

"Hurry," Nicki shouted as he raced towards the bridge. "It's starting to drift away!"

She turned and kept her eyes glued to the small craft. What was a lifeboat doing out in the middle of the ocean? Whatever the reason was, it couldn't be good.

The yacht lit up and a bell rang. Soon she was surrounded by the Captain and the crew whom she realized she hadn't seen once during their entire voyage. Everyone else soon followed, including the Director who was rubbing his eyes.

"Did we hit an iceberg?" Scott asked, sleepily.

Simon looked over the side. "Not unless it was a hit and run."

Commands were issued and soon they were moving slowly to intercept the lifeboat.

"Do you think they're all right?" Abby asked as she stood beside Roxy, shivering.

"I don't know lamb," Roxy replied. "I guess it depends on how long they were out there. You don't want to mess with extreme exposure. You sure you're up for this?"

"Yea, it's ok. If they're hurt ... I'd like to help."

They inched closer to the lifeboat. One of the oars hung limply from its rung, dragging in the water, the other rung was an empty socket. If there was someone in the lifeboat, they were laying down, unconscious ... or worse.

The yacht pulled up beside the lifeboat and the crew used long hooked polls to pull it in. Possessed by a morbid curiosity, Nicki peered down into it.

"Is that a ..."

Abby peeked over her shoulder. "It is. It's pretty. That's the type of wedding dress I'd like to get married in ... someday."

Two crewmen leapt down into the lifeboat. The Bride was curled up in a ball, a pearl white veil obscuring her face. One of the crewmen leaned down, checked her pulse, stood up and spoke.

"What did he say?" Abby asked. "Is she ok?"

"I'm not sure, lamb," Roxy said. "Wait, look, she's moving!"

There was a cheer from the assembled crowd as they helped her to her feet.

As they helped her out of the lifeboat, Scott, the director, was the first to rush to her aid. He extended his hand, and she took it.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice frail. She pulled back her lace veil and smiled weakly. She was a faded spirit, the strain of whatever horror she'd survived haunting her, yet her beauty prevailed.

Scott turned and barked at the crew. "Why are you all still standing around gawking. Get her some water! Go, now!"

Two of the crewmen scurried away while the remaining crew secured the lifeboat to the yacht.

"I can ... I can never repay you," she said weakly. "You saved my life."

"Think nothing of it," Scott said as he supported her arm.

"You're to kind ... I."

She stumbled, fell and he caught her in his arms. They remained there fixed, eyes locked in a deep trance.

"Oh, for fucks sake," Roxy grumbled under her breath. "That's it, I've seen enough. I'm going to bed."

She turned and Abby obediently followed after her. "Do you think she's ok? Should we get her anything?"

Roxy didn't reply and they both vanished below deck. James soon followed. Simon watched them go, looked back at the Bride then dug through his pockets for a cigarette, lit it and wandered off into the darkness, the cherry red ember dancing through the air like a firefly.

Nicki stood there while the Bride and Scott stared into each other's eyes. "I'll just ah ... yea," she said, turned and returned to her cabin.

Chapter Four

When Nicki awoke the gentle rocking of the yacht reminded her that she was still in the middle of the god damn ocean. Being surrounded by water on all four sides below a blistering hot sun was not a comforting thought, nor welcomed as her first. As she slipped out of her bunk and touched the cold polished floor, she swore she'd never leave dry land again.

She stood up. It took her a second to gain her balance, the sensation similar to being drunk, but she hadn't really had that much to drink, at least nothing close to her limit. Years of running with a pack of rabid super models had given her the tolerance of a pro.

She stretched, raised her arms and pulled at the knots in her back. She was naked except for a pair of cotton panties, her preferred sleeping arrangement. Untethered, her breasts bounced, blessed with a natural spring. She often joked, semi-serious that they were better than a credit card. "No fees and they're accepted globally," she'd say with a devilish smile.

She let out a yawn and checked on her companion. Abby's bunk was empty.

She crossed the room and peeked out into the hallway. It was also empty. The shower was just one door down. Should she bother changing? Nah, she thought. Fuck it.

She crept out, stuck close to the wall and darted towards the door. She reached out, grabbed the handle and ...

... the door swung open and Roxy burst out, wrapped in a towel and almost knocked her over.

"Oh, there you are. Good, you're up," she said as she shook the water from her hair. "Scott wants us to all gather on the deck. He's got some big announcement. No idea what it is, don't care."

"Oh, ok," Nicki said, trying to ignore the fact that she was almost naked.

Wait, she thought. Why is Roxy holding an oar? Before she could ask, Roxy walked past her and down the hallway. Simon appeared and meekly followed behind her, cupping his naughty bits.

She turned, watched as he scurried after Roxy and almost burst out laughing when she saw his bright bare ass. It was beet red and almost glowed.

When they were gone, she turned and walked into the shower. A thick curtain of steam still hung in the air. It was small but comfortable. There was a simple wooden bench, shelves stocked with towels and a shower with glass walls.

She slipped out of her panties, turned on the shower and stepped in. The water was still scorching hot, refreshing with a hint of sea salt.

As the water beat against her skin, her mind wandered. What could Scott possibly have to announce? The shoot was over. They'd exhausted all of his dumb ideas. Short of filming a hardcore porn, what else could they do on this stupid boat? And who was the mysterious bride? No one was seriously going to buy into Simon's ghost story, were they? It had to be a coincidence, right?

The answers eluded her, not that she really cared. In a few hours this bizarre charter would be over, and she'd be back on solid ground where she intended to remain for the rest of her natural life.

When she'd exhausted the last of the hot water she turned the shower off, wrapped a towel around her body, walked back to her cabin and changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top. She then walked up to the lounge on the main deck. Roxy, Abby and the band were gathered around a small circular table under a canopy shielding them from the sun. A small continental breakfast spread was laid out across the table.

"Coffee?" Abby asked.

"Please," Nicki said and sat down beside Roxy, who was loading up her plate with small slices of fruit. Abby poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

"So, what's Scott's big announcement?" Nicki asked.

"He refused to say," Roxy said and popped a strawberry into her mouth. "But I think he was up all night talking with that woman. He's got rings under his eyes the size of saucers. Did he tell you anything?" she asked, looking over at James.

He shrugged. "No idea what he could be on about. Shoots done. We only booked this leaky boat for one day, then it's heading back to the dock."

Nicki looked around. "Then why aren't we moving?"

Everyone looked around in random directions. "Now that you mention it," James said looking from side to side. "I haven't seen any of the crew or captain since last night."

They were interrupted as Scott walked around the side of the deck, carrying a large, battered cardboard box. His eye sockets were sunken, a ring the color of coal circling his eyes. The Bride walked behind him. She'd changed into a short pearl white sundress. Loaned to her by one of the models? Stolen?

"You're all here, good," he said and dropped the box down on the circular table seconds after Abby was able to clear a small space for it. He stood back, clapped his hands together then feverishly looked at each of the models. "Yes," he muttered to himself. "Yes, I think it'll work."

Simon looked at the cardboard box then leaned forward. "Mate, have you been drinking the sea water?"

Scott raised a finger and wagged it. "No and good morning. I've been doing a lot of thinking. Quite a lot, in fact and I've had ... an epiphany. Inspiration is like a wavelength. You have to be tuned in, receptive to hear it. I've spent so many years floundering around when in fact, had I just stopped and listened, I would have realized I was surrounded by it."

He flopped down in an open chair facing them. The Bride, having still said nothing, stood behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder. "I just had to open my soul to hear it."

He raised his hands then made a gesture as if an atomic bomb had exploded. "It's like I've had my mind blown."

He turned, looked up at the Bride, and rested his hand on hers. "And I owe it all to her."

Simon looked from him to the Bride. "Why's the boat not moving mate?"

Scott looked back at him, his eyes watering. When was the last time he'd blinked? Nicki thought.

"Oh, that's because the crew abandoned ship in the middle of the night."

Everyone stared at him wide eyed in disbelief.

"They did what now?" James asked, stunned.

"Not to worry," Scott said, stood up and walked over to the cardboard box. "That should give us plenty of time for the reshoots."

James stared up at him in disbelief "... you're telling me we're adrift at sea without a crew or captain and you want to do ... reshoots."

"What reshoots?" Simon said and leaned forward. Nicki had been watching him. Actually, she'd been watching the Bride who had been staring at him, her eyes like a viper's gaze.

"I'm glad you asked!" Scott said excitedly and rotated the box. On it, in black marker was written: "Plan B."

"I should have trusted my instincts, challenged my boundaries. That's why I was so indecisive yesterday. I was too focused on cramming in as much as I could in the time that I had that I couldn't see the big picture."

Roxy, who looked like she'd just discovered she'd opened her front door to a shady salesman, spoke up. "Need I remind you that we only signed on for one day. It's in the contract sugar. Read it."

"Money?" Scott laughed. "You're worried about money? If it's money you want, I'll double, no triple what they're paying you."

"And how will we know you won't just go back on your word?" Roxy scowled.

Scott looked around, then down at his wrist and pulled off his watch. "Here," he said and tossed it to her. "The studio gave it to me when my last film went number one globally. If I'm lying, pawn it. That should cover you for your time."

Roxy looked at the watch, held it up to her ear and tapped it. "It won't do us much good if it's at the bottom of the ocean."

"We're fine," Scott said dismissively. "This yacht is a floating toybox of every technological gadget you could think of. I'm sure once we started to stray off course they alerted the coast guard, hell even the navy. You have nothing to worry about."

Roxy slipped the watch onto her wrist. "1/2 a day and not a second longer."

"Deal," Scott said, smiling.

"Alright, what did you have in mind?" Roxy said, sat down and leaned back. Abby looked at her slightly mystified, having agreed to none of this.

"Well," Scott said as he pulled back one of the cardboard box's flaps. "I now understand what was holding me back. It seems so obvious now. I was chasing trends rather than trying to set them."

He pulled back another flap of the cardboard box. "If you want to be remembered in this cutthroat industry you need to be willing to take risks, push the envelope, risk failure."

He pulled back yet another flap of the cardboard box. "We need to be controversial, make people uncomfortable. Possibly make the local news."

He pulled back the final flap, stepped back and sat down. "We're going to make history here. Go on, have a look."

There was a long pause. Abby Was the first to stand up. She walked over to the cardboard box and peered inside. "Ahhhh ..." she said wide eyed, then looked back at Roxy in horror. She and Nicki both stood up and walked over to the cardboard box and peeked inside.

"Oh my God is that ..." Nicki whispered in astonishment.

Roxy Looked up, glared at Scott, raised her wrist and pointed at the watch. "Five times what they're paying us and we're keeping the damn watch."

Scott looked at her with a crazed look in his eyes, reached up, touched the Bride's hand again, looked back at her, smiled then turned back to face the three models huddled around the mysterious cardboard box.

"Deal."

Chapter Five

"Need a hand?" Nicki asked as she checked her cherry red lipstick in the small mirror in the cabin she shared with Abby.

"I think I've got it ... Wait no, how do you tie it up?"

Nicki turned and almost burst out laughing. Abby was pulling on the tight leather corset, trying to keep her adorable pear-shaped breasts from popping out.

"Turn around, I'll do it for you," Nicki said and walked across the cabin, her stilettos ringing off the hard polished floor.

Of the outfits the models had chosen, hers was the simplest: a short mini dress with wire thin spaghetti straps. Latex wasn't the easiest material to wiggle into, but it paled in comparison to the tangled web of straps and buckles that was Abby's corset and garters.

Abby sat down on the edge of her bunk and turned to face away from her. Nicki sat down beside her.

"Here," she said as she grabbed a loose strap. "This one goes around the neck and buckles in the back."

Abby brushed her hair aside as Nicki pulled on the strap, brought it behind Abby's neck and buckled it.

"Ok, exhale and tell me if this is too tight."

Abby Let out a slow deep breath then waited. Nicki tightened the laces and tied them into a neat bow.

"There, how does that feel?" she asked.

"Tight," Abby Squeaked.

"Well, if you feel lightheaded, just wave me down and I'll cut you loose," Nicki said, stood up and admired her work.

Abby Was stunning. She was petite for a model, but she was endowed with the magic spark that made some models super. The corset was a good choice, tightening around her waist before springing out like a church bell, tuned like a heavenly choir. Her legs were stubby, but adorable in the thigh high stockings she wore clipped to the garters.

"Do we have to wear the choker too?" Abby asked.

"Scott seems hell bent on his vision for this shoot, so I wouldn't bother arguing with him."

"What's the silver hoop for?" Abby asked as she toyed with it.

"Don't ask," Nicki said as she helped her put it on.

There was a knock at the door and Roxy spoke through it. "Are you too ready yet? Let's get this show on the road, this thong is driving me nuts."

Nicki walked over to the door and opened it. Roxy was standing on the other side, her hand resting on her hips, wearing a long-sleeved vinyl teddy.

"Trick or treat," she teased.

"Hilarious," Nicki said and turned to look back at Abby. "Ready?"

"I think so," she said, stood up and almost toppled over.

"Seriously?" Roxy snorted. "Heels are like day one."

"Sorry," Abby said, blushing. "I'm just not used to them being so ... high."

"They're called stilettos, lamb. Now, let's get going gang. The sooner we fulfill this weirdo's sick fantasy, the sooner we can lounge in the jacuzzi and binge on champagne," she said, turned and walked down the hallway. Nicki and Roxy followed.

"Where does he want us?" Nicki asked, trying to keep pace with her.

"Boiler room, if they even still have those. I don't know, just follow the sound of the engine."

"The engine is still running? That's a good sign, right?" Abby asked as she caught up to them.

"Not unless you know how to steer a boat, lamb," Roxy said.

They descended a flight of stairs and dove deeper into the heart of the yacht. The low throbbing sound of the engines grew louder, as the temperature slowly rose. They reached a thick door on hinges with a small circular glass window. Nicki tried to peered through it but it was covered in a thin layer of mist.

"X marks the spot," Roxy said as she grabbed the handle and opened it. "This is the end of the line for me."

"Wait, what?" Abby said, shocked. "Why?"

"No idea. Our intrepid director has other plans for me. He told me to come get you and bring you down here, then head up to the captain's cabin. I have no idea what that little creep has planned, but I'm already considering renegotiating our deal. I mean look at how we're dressed. Nothing good can come of this. But fuck it, right Abby? Fuck the parents advisory committee."

Abby nervously looked down at her leather corset.

"You sure about this?" Nicki asked. "You don't have to go through with this. We can just call it off now if you want. No one will think any less of you."

Abby raised her head defiantly. "Fuck the parents advisory committee," she said and walked through the door.

"Well, there you have it," Roxy said and laughed. "Good luck, and if that little creep gets handsy, give him a good slap, that'll keep him in line," she said then turned to go.

Nicki watched her, then stepped through the door. It was as if she'd stepped into another world. She was flanked on either side by industrial machinery. Above her, pipes coiled like snakes slithered off in random directions. There were dials, gages and a sea of blinking lights, some aqua blue, some an ominous ruby red. Every few seconds a plumb of white steam would burst out from a pipe, then dissipate.

"Charming," Nicki grumbled as she ducked under a trio of white-hot pipes.

"And you're sure she said the boiler room?" Abby asked as she vanished into a thick curtain of steam.

"That's what she said," Nicki replied as she tried to catch up. "All right, let's stick together, this place is like a maze. Ok Abby ... Abby?" she called out.

When the steam cleared Abby was gone.

"Abby?" She called out again.

There was no reply.

"Quit playing games Abby, where are you?" she shouted.

Again, there was no answer.

"Seriously?" she grumbled. "Typical. Girl could get lost in a shoe closet."

She continued on, weaving through the maze of oily machinery. She passed a row of pistons working in unison, several open hatches and a heavy junction box.

"Abby?" she shouted. Again, there was no reply.

Eventually she found herself in the heart of the yacht, or what she assumed was its heart. Everything looked important, hands off. As modern as the yacht was, it was as if the engineers had salvaged everything from the early industrial age. A web of copper wiring hung above her. Below her, a ruby red glow seeped through the grated floor from what looked like an old black cast iron furnace.

"You made it!" Scott said as he appeared from behind a large hissing engine block carrying his camera on his shoulder. "Perfect, now we can get started."

"Where's the band?" Nicki asked, nervously. "And have you seen Abby?"

"We won't need them. And as for Abby, well, she's right there."

As if summoned, Abby appeared, followed closely by the Bride. Nicki looked over at Abby. Something ... was off. She was staring forward, her eyes vacant, smiling pleasantly.

"Shall we begin?" Scott asked.

Nicki looked over at the Bride as she walked across the room and stood beside Scott. Abby obediently followed. The Bride then leaned in and whispered something into Abby's ear. She raised her hand and giggled.

"So, what's the plan?" Nicki asked. "Do you want us to do the usual? dance around and look hot while you drool?"

"Not quite," Scott said as he lowered the camera and looked around the engine room.

"Beautiful, isn't it? It's exactly what I wanted. For this shot we're just going to focus on you two."

"And do what exactly?" Nicki asked, nervously.

"I have an idea," Abby said, politely raising her hand.

Scott turned to look at her. "Do you now. Please share it."

"Well," she said blushing. "It's easier if I just show you."

"Brilliant!" Scott said, his eyes crazed. "See, I'm telling you. Inspiration is like lightning. You never know where it will strike next!"

He stood back, raised the camera and peered through the viewfinder. "Pretend like I'm not even here, follow your muse. And ... action!"

As if on cue there was a blast of steam blanketing the entire room in a thick white fog.

Nicki coughed several times and swatted at the thick steam. Every instinct in her body told her to run. It was as hot as hell. Whatever was going on felt wrong. These outfits felt wrong. This boiler room felt wrong and above all else, Abby's strange new behavior felt terribly, terribly wrong.

She stumbled forward, trying to remember which direction she'd been facing when she'd entered this cursed place, but the fog was too thick.

"You've always looked over me like a mother hen," she heard Abby say, her voice drifting like a spectre.

"Abby?" She asked.

"... and so picky ... picky, picky, picky. Picky about what I wear. Picky about who I see, how much I drink."

"Abby?" Nicki called out again. "Where are you? This isn't funny."

"I'm not so innocent, you know? You don't know me. You don't know what I'm capable of."

"Abby I ..." Nicki said then suddenly felt an odd stinging sensation in her right wrist. She raised it and was shocked to discover a leather restraint with a silver hoop was wrapped tightly around her wrist. How? She thought, confused.

"You keep treating me like I'm some sweet and innocent lamb ... well I'm not," Abby growled from beyond the veil of steam.

Before she could pry the restraint off, she felt a similar stinging sensation in her other wrist. She looked down and discovered a second restraint.

"I'm tired of playing it PG. I want to experience everything this world has to offer, every sensation, every delight ... and you … you're going to show me."

Nicki tried to speak ... couldn't. She reached up and clawed at her throat, something was wrapped tightly around it with a silver hoop. A choker?

"I ..." she gasped before something wrapped around both of her ankles. She didn't bother to look down, she already knew: more restraints.

Possessed by an invisible force, her arms were pulled behind her back and locked there. The restraints on her ankles then snapped together, forcing her down to her knees.

She let out a soft cry as she hit the hard metal grating.

Abby stepped through the veil of steam, her eyes the color of gray coal. "Don't be frightened pet," she hissed.

Nicki stared up at her in horror. The furious ruby light cast by the engine ignited her corset. She saw flashes of red, hot like magma and the thick leather seemed to move as if it was melted tar.

Abby took several long strides, her stilettos ringing off the course iron, her hips swinging back and forth like an unholy bell, the garters anchored to her chocolate colored thigh high stockings pulled tight like a violin string and stopped in front of Nicki.

Nicki looked up, over the rich valleys and plains of Abby's body, and Abby stared right back down at her with her devilish vacant eyes.

"I ...Abby ... I," Nicki whimpered.

"Hush now pet," Abby said as she gently stroked Nicki's trembling lips with her finger. "Look at you. Once so proud, so sure of yourself. Now ... on your knees."

Abby smiled a deep venomous smile. "I like you there. That's where ... you belong."

Nicki closed her eyes. It was as if her mind was being ransacked, swarmed. A heavy fog clouded her thoughts. She couldn't think straight. She clawed at it to no avail, searching and yet ... it would be so easy to just ...

"Let go," Abby said softly. "Let go of all the indecision, the troublesome nagging thoughts. You can. You can be mine, my ... pet. You just have to surrender to me body and soul.

Nicki considered it. She was exhausted, tired of the hustle, tired of constantly looking over her back, waiting to be trampled by the next wave of young models eager to take her place.

"Yes," she whispered.

Abby smiled again. "I can make it all go away. You'll never have to worry your pretty little head about another thing ever again. Does that sound good?"

"Yes," Nicki whispered again.

"Yes, what?" Abby commanded.

The word took root in her mind. If she spoke it, it would be like a spell, binding her to this strange abomination that had once been her friend. Her mind wrestled with it, pitching one last desperate stand. It failed, and her mind collapsed, cut from all the needless weight of its sorrow. Her fate sealed, she need only speak the word.

"Yes ... Master," she said obediently.

"Very good, pet," Abby said, her lips curling up into a triumphant grin. "Now show me."

She stepped back, brought her hands down and slipped off her thong panties.

Nicki wet her lips, eager to please her new Master. Master? She thought as the last remnants of her mind screamed out at her before she finally succumbed to the vile magical spell. It was too strong, pulling her under like a strong current.

Abby stepped forward and Nicki dove forward, exploring her raw sex with her tongue.

"That's it," Abby gently moaned. "Be a good pet and look at me while you serve your new Master."

Master. Again that word. Freed of all her nagging thoughts, her heart swelled with purpose, her only goal now to obediently serve her new Master. She looked up, saw Abby, saw ... it was faint at first, hidden behind her eyes, then darted away, pale like a shadow. It didn't matter, none of it mattered anymore.

She licked, her tongue swirling in semi circles as she performed her one true purpose.

Her Master brought her hand down, grabbed the back of her head and started to move her in a rocking motion.

"Yes," she moaned as she edged closer towards a climax. "Yes pet, just like that, just like ..."

She was interrupted by a sudden burst of noise as the engine's pistons burst to life.

"The engines ..." The Bride howled in Abby's voice. "Some dumb fool has turned them on. We're moving!"

The Bride pulled away and Nicki collapsed to the floor. As the thick fog slowly dissipated, Scott appeared, standing perfectly still like a Mannequin. Abby stood beside him, frozen as if her soul had abandoned her body.

"Why are you fools still standing there? Find them, stop them!" The Bride hissed.

She stomped out of the boiler room and Scott and Abby obediently followed.

Nicki remained perfectly still for several seconds then tested the strength of her restraints. Its power had faded, and she easily pulled them apart. She looked down at them. There was nothing there to keep her bound. Then how?

It was one of a few dozen questions she had, the most important: what the fuck is going on? topping the list.

Whatever was happening, the Bride, like a poisonous spider, was at the center of it. Whether supernatural or a prank gone wrong, she had to be stopped.

Nicki sat up. She could still taste Abby, or the thing pretending to be Abby, that much had been real, but what had come over her? She had felt her mind slipping away as if she was being consumed by a feverish dream. Was that what had happened to Scott and Abby? They looked like they were in a trance. She shuddered. A few seconds longer, would she have lost herself to the same spell?

She crawled to her feet and stumbled out of the boiler room. She had no plan, no idea what to do. Confront the Bride? Would she be strong enough?

As she reached the lower deck, she heard the Bride's voice faintly through the walls of the interior of the yacht and a low thud.

"You fools. Open it!" she howled. "Stop them before it's too late!"

Nicki moved in the opposite direction, dragging herself along the wall. She reached a ladder and pulled herself up to the next deck. As she continued, the sound of the Bride's voice grew fainter.

She heard something else, soft moaning. She crept forward, following it until she reached a cabin door, crouched down and peered inside.

From the nautical theme and bright red velvet pillows on the bed it was safe to assume it was the captain's cabin. The sheets were disheveled, which was where Roxy and Simon had presumably started out. They were on the floor now. Simon was on all fours deep throating Roxy's strap-on dildo. A camera had been set up on a tripod, but it had been knocked over. Neither of them seemed to care. Were they also under the same spell? Could they be trusted?

"Pssst," someone whispered from behind her. She spun around and saw James peeking out from behind a cabin door.

"Over here ... wait," he said and closed the door slightly. "Are you ... you?"

She stood up and walked over to him. "Would someone please explain to me what the fuck is going on?"

"Lower your voice," he hissed. "Come inside and I'll explain."

She looked back at Roxy and Simon. She could interrupt them, but then what?

Fuck it, she thought and walked to where James was hiding. He opened the door, and she stepped inside.

"Ok ...spill th ..."

"Shhhh," James hissed. "They're coming back."

He pulled her into the room and gently closed the door. From the hallway she heard a pair of footsteps, then one of them spoke.

"The Master says one of the interlopers has stolen the keys."

It was Scott, though his voice sounded like he was sleep walking.

"Serve the master, obey the Master," Abby replied in the same sleepy voice.

"Search his cabin first, then go one by one until you find him. The Master commands and we obey."

"The Master commands and we obey," Abby said, parroting him.

They continued on, till the sound of their footsteps grew fainter.

Nicki turned to look at James and scowled. "You better have a goddamn good explanation for all of this, because I've just about had enough."

James looked up at her and raised a pair of keys. He leaned back, sat down and crossed his legs.

"The Bride was Simon's idea. He heard the local story and thought it would be a good laugh, so we hired her."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Nicki hissed. "She works for you?"

"Whoever that is ... whatever that is, ain't who we hired. I thought it was too good to be true when she showed up in a lifeboat. Talk about taking it to the next level. We hired a local beach bum to pull up on a jet ski and yell boo ...  a wedding dress? A nice touch, but not what we agreed to. When I heard the crew had abandoned ship I went to the bridge. It was a goddamn miracle I got through. Turns out there was no way they could get a jet ski out here. They had no idea what I was talking about when I said we'd pulled an actual bride out of the sea. That's when the line went dead, cut."

Nicki stared at him with a blank stare. "Then who the hell is she?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea, nor do I care. I just wanna get the fuck off this horror cruise."

Nicki studied him. Was this all still part of his stupid prank or was he telling the truth? She remembered the haunting look in Abby's ghostly black eyes. "Agreed," she replied. "Now what?"

He frowned. "My plan was to gun it back to the shore, but if she hasn't already, I'm willing to bet she's torn up the bridge. I was kinda hoping you might have a plan."

Nicki sat back, defeated. Dead in the water, in the middle of the ocean trapped on a leaky boat with a lunatic, they were screwed. She thought back, remembering the details of Simon's stupid ghost story. Was there any truth to it? Was she actually a ...

Then she saw it, pulling from a memory she'd had while she was under the Bride's spell. While the Bride had rummaged through her mind, she had been able to sift through hers. She saw it now and shuddered. It was a world of raw emotion, sorrow, anger, a longing, a search. A search for ... a search for ... for.

"Wait," she said and looked up at James. "Why didn't I think of it before! It could work. It might actually work."

"Before what?" He asked. "What might work?"

Chapter Six

The Bride pulled another bundle of electrical wires from the mangled console and squeezed them tightly. It was well beyond repair, useless yet she continued to gut it. It brought her a small sense of joy.

Suffice to say it had been a difficult day. Her memory was clouded. The honeymoon, a strange mist on the water, a siren's song and her love abandoning her. He'd escaped but he couldn't have gotten too far ... and what role did these fools play in it? She didn't care. Nothing would get in her way. Not now, not ever.

"Master?"

She turned. Her servants stood behind her trembling.

What had they called him, a director? And she was what? A super model? They were nothing now, worms.

"What?" She barked.

The director shook. "We searched all the cabins. There is no sign of the interlopers ... or the keys."

She tossed the gutted remains of the console on the floor. "The keys areuseless now. Find them. They may try too ..."

She froze, her ears perked as she heard a faint sound.

It was ... It was music.

Music? She thought. Who would dare?

"Master?" Her obedient servant asked.

"Quiet," she growled.

She stepped back and peered out through the open hatch. The sun had set, the sky ink black, the stars twinkling like diamonds.

She moved slowly, slithering out the door, drawn to the strange sound. Her servants followed.

She slipped down to the main deck and followed the sound. White lights had been strung along the railing, casting a ghostly pale glow.

The music grew louder as she neared the stern, where she discovered its source: a small tape deck.

She raised her hands like claws, ready to tear it apart, then stopped abruptly, her attention drawn to a figure with their back turned to her. He was tall, thin, lean, his suit tailored to his slender build.

"My love," she whispered.

He tilted his head, and she caught the lines of his profile.

"My love ..." she said as she floated across the deck towards him.

He turned again to face away from her.

"Master, I ..." one of her servants said but she waved them away.

She approached him slowly, stood beside him and looked up at him. He turned and looked down at her.

"You came back to me," she said, smiling through tear-soaked eyes. "You came back. I knew you would come back."

He smiled warmly and spoke softly. "Yes, love. I have. I've come back to you."

He reached down and touched her hand.

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks, then lowered her head. "... the things I've done," she sobbed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

He reached down, raised her chin, looked deep into her eyes and kissed her.

"I love you," she whispered.

He smiled, reached down and raised her hand. "I love you too," he said softly and gently pulled her wedding ring off her finger.

"And will forever. Now rest my love," he said, let it fall overboard and slip below the waves.

She turned to watch it go, then looked back, slowly fading until she was gone.

There was a long pause. The Groom dropped his hands to his side, looked up, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Holy fucking fuck!" James shouted as he crept out from behind where he was hiding. "Was that real? Tell me it was real?"

Nicki turned to look at him and pulled her tie loose. "See, I told you it would work."

Both Scott and Abby, freed of the spell, stared at her, confused.

"Nicki?" Abby asked. "Why are you wearing a suit?" She looked down. "Oh God, what am I wearing?" She asked in horror.

Nicki pulled off her suit jacket, walked over to Abby and wrapped it around her.

"I'll explain later, or at least try too. How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy," Abby said, pulling the suit jacket tightly around her body. "I remember we bumped into a lifeboat, and then a dream about a bride ... there was a boiler room ... and then it gets foggy."

"It's over," Nicki said. "That's all that matters now."

She looked over at Scott who was staring off at a horizon only he saw. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

He looked over at her, through her, then away. "This is the last fucking time I agree to do one of these stupid music videos," he said rubbing his wrist.

He looked down. "Where the fuck is my watch?"

There was a loud pop as one of the hatches opened and both Roxy And Simon walked out onto the deck.

"What?" Simon asked, confused, rubbing his jaw. "Did we miss something?"

Nicki laughed and turned away from the assembled group and stared off across the calm sea. "No," she said softly. "No, I think that's a wrap."

Epilogue

I sat there stunned, the ice in my glass slowly melting.

"No fucking way," I whispered.

My blind date sat back in her seat and smiled. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"There's no fucking way!" I said again. "Wow."

She reached down and picked up her glass.

"You asked me if I believed in ghosts. Having kissed one, I consider myself a bit of an authority on the subject."

"And if I asked the band?"

"They didn't last long after that. James went solo, had a successful career. Roxy And Simon Eventually hooked up and had like a dozen kids. Scott Had a long successful career and true to his word, never directed another music video. Abby never ended up joining a parents advisory council, she's too busy running her own modeling agency and me ... well."

She leaned forward. "Ask any of them and they'll deny every word of it. We made a pack that night, and promised to take it to the grave."

"So why are you telling me?" I asked, confused.

She raised her empty glass and shook it.

"Oh, I get it," I said smiling. "Another one of the same?"

She smiled and fell back into her seat.

I stood up, wove through the thick crowd and planted myself at the bar. I waved the bartender over and ordered another round of drinks. As I waited, I looked around, eventually staring up at a television set hung above the bar. It was set to a station playing music videos ... and wouldn't you know it, they were playing the one we were just talking about.

I wanted to turn and say "what a coincidence!" but the bar was too crowded and besides, who would believe me? I watched, amused as I waited. They were all there, the lead singer feral like an animal, his loyal lead guitarist and close friend by his side and of course, the super models in the background dancing to the music.

As I watched it several red flags went off in my head. Why was the film quality so grainy? Why were they wearing so much neon? Was that a ghetto blaster? I hadn't seen one of those in ages. It was like everything had been scooped right out of the ... eighties.

I was snapped back into reality when the bartender slapped the drinks down in front of me. I smiled, picked them up, turned and walked back towards the table.

I had a hundred new questions lined up, and as I broke through the crowd was prepared to ask them.

Seriously? I thought as I stared at the empty table where my blind date had been sitting ... she ghosted me?

The End