Make Me Hate You Ch. 02

"That'll do it."

He went back to his room and pulled out his laptop and started to type.

He was a master at his work and pretty soon he had cribbed and downloaded, and downright copied from some of the masters and his PowerPoint was a cracker, even having some video stolen from YouTube to spice the whole thing up. When the boat stopped for another afternoon shopping trip he had a great excuse for not going.

He stopped for lunch telling Jane that his presentation was almost ready to go and would certainly be done for the next afternoon.

"Oh that's fantastic!" she said, "thank you so much." She went quiet, "I'm sorry that I've taken up almost a whole day of your holiday, I shall make it up to you."

"No problem," he grinned, "I quite enjoyed it actually."

"Thank you..." she blushed and giggled.

"You... err..." he paused, "you reminded me of... someone for a moment there, kinda had me with that."

She blushed even more,

"Thank you again John..." she let that hang in the air for a moment, then came back with a start, "Oh yes, you still need to go down to the theatre and pick out your costume for the party this evening!"

"Costume?"

"Oh yes," she said, "It's a murder mystery kind of thing, bit of a play on Cluedo - harmless fun I assure you."

"I'll go right now," he said, "can check out my stage for tomorrow at the same time."

"Perfect!" she grinned again, and as she walked away he watched her slightly large pear-shaped bottom swinging nicely in her corporate skirt and he wondered quite how she was going to make it up to him.

He had a third cup of tea and left for the theatre to select his costume.

Once there, he was met by Ralph, one of the staff who looked him up and down,

"Do I have the perfect thing for you Mr Daniels," he reached onto the rack behind him and pulled out a khaki battledress, the kind of thing worn by British soldiers since before the second world war and up until the mid sixties. It came with a matching shirt and tie and even the appropriate belt. He tried on the whole thing and it fitted him almost perfectly. "I'll just make a few adjustments and have it delivered to your room in time for the party this evening."

"What kind of other costumes have you sent out so far?" he asked.

"Oh most of the ladies have ball gowns, a few flapper costumes have gone out too," the staff member looked around him conspiratorially, "that lady that sat at your table the on the second night, she has one," said Ralph, "to be honest - her tits are just a bit too big for a flapper, if you get my drift?"

John laughed.

"A strange lady Ralph," he looked at his uniform, thinking back to the strange conversation he'd had with Mrs Booth, "I don't suppose you have some red material do you?"

"I expect so, why?"

"I don't suppose you could make me some semi-circular strips to go here," he indicated on the uniform, "With 'Grenadier Guards' written on?" Ralph looked at him with narrowed eyes, "It was my paternal Grandfather's old regiment," he lied by way of explanation, his paternal grandfather had actually been an officer in the London Irish but that wasn't important.

"Seeing as you're doing an afternoon lecture for our Jane, that'll be our pleasure!" Ralph grinned, then with a hand the shoulder of the uniform, "I'll Google it just to make sure!"

"Thanks Ralph!" said John.

And low and behold, not three hours later the battledress was delivered to his room and there was the red shoulder titles both reading 'Grenadier Guards' and it was only with a close look that John could see they had been handwritten in something like Tippex, some kind of paint at least.

The uniform fitted him well and he got started to work up a plan for after the party.

He made his way down to the dining room to find a few of his fellow guests there already, all in costumes with no other soldiers, although one old boy was dressed as a naval officer. He headed for his table and there was the script for this evening and an envelope with the part he was playing and what evidence he had to contribute.

Tucked in with it was a stapled note, and he peeled it open, it read,

'John, just as an extra thank you - the murderer is Mrs Freeman. The evidence you need is Mr Parker knowing what time he left the dining room and not seeing her there and what Mrs McCoy heard on the promenade deck.

Thanks again

Jane'

He smiled and packed his paperwork in his pocket, looking across to where Mrs Booth the flapper was coming in to the room; even though he knew he was pretty sure to screw her tonight her absolutely bitching cleavage and very pretty make-up did turn him on. He thought about his play acting from the night before.

He walked across to their table and held out her chair,

"Good evening Mam!" he said with a military firmness to his voice, "Captain Daniels, Queen's Company Grenadier Guards!"

She seemed lost for words for a moment until a long slow grin crept across her face,

"Why Captain Daniels, I've not had the pleasure of a Grenadier's company since before I got married!"

"I hope I can live up to his high standards Mam."

"It'll be hard Captain Daniels!" she said.

"It already is Mam."

Their doublespeak was having the right effect and he could see that her nipples were hardening already.

The evening commenced and with some guidance from tour guide Jane dressed as a 1940's WAAF she called the group to order, asking that everyone take their seats. The rest of the staff were suitably dressed with dated costumes or additions to their ordinary uniforms to suggest the forties. The Bead-Smith's were suitably dressed although Mrs Bead-Smith looked somewhat askance at Mrs Booth and her elevated bustline and now thankfully resting nipples.

The dinner was excellent, then all of the food on this trip was good. During the serving of the courses Jane took up her microphone and started to introduce the subject of the evening and that Doctor Gustav Heigl the leading scientist had been discovered murdered in the lobby and that it was imperative that his killer was found before midnight when the ship docked and the German police would take over.

And so the story began, some tables formed teams, some of the couples walked around with their prepared crib sheets. John made a point of walking around and talking to most even though he already had a note telling him exactly who did it and how. He went to the bar and had another beer only to see Jane coming up next to him.

"John," she whispered "Mr and Mrs Dawlish are extremely close, I suggest that you tell me your findings and that way I can declare you the winner. Mr Dawlish always wins and he'll be insufferable for the next two days unless you beat him." She sipped her glass of Coke.

So John turned to her and spoke, just some Shakespeare he could remember, just talking for effect. She looked up to him and smiled and nodded, and reaching up onto the bar retrieved her Microphone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Major John has something to say!"

John stepped forward,

"That's Captain John," he said with an effected admonition, looking at Jane's uniform, "As Flight lieutenant Jane has rightly pointed out, I believe I know who the killer is," he looked around and saw that Mr Dawlish was biting his bottom lip and bouncing on his toes, "Mrs Freeman, won't you step forward?" He saw Mr Dawlish's shoulders drop as he was pipped right at the post, "Mr Parker you said that Mrs Freeman was the last person left in the lobby when everyone else was out on the trip. Mrs McCoy, you said you heard Mr Freeman announce that she had been swindled out of her inheritance by Dr Heigl, I therefore conclude Mrs Freeman that it was YOU!" He pointed across the bar to her. She smiled.

"It's a fair cop!" she shouted and bowed to the rest of the audience and received a round of applause for her superb acting.

Jane appeared and gave Mrs Freeman a bottle of Champagne and some flowers, and similar for John he also took a bow taking his flowers and his bottle back to his table to the Bead-Smith's congratulations. He saw that Mrs Booth was looking at him with some interest, her chest sticking out towards him more than usual.

As if on cue some forties music started to play and many of the couples headed for the dance floor and were away with the appropriate moves for the music.

"I was wondering when you were going to come and interrogate me Captain Daniels?"

She sipped from her champagne glass and looked at him, grasping the front of her dress to pull down and expose her big tits to him.

"I think I do need to pump you for what information you may have Mrs Booth."

"Really?" she said with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, if I really want to get to the bottom of things I need to get right down it."

"Right," she said, "and err... what does this exactly have to do with me?"

"It's your bottom I fancy getting to grips with." He sipped his beer, "I'm going to make my apologies to young Jane there and then head back to my room, ostensibly to swat up on my presentation for tomorrow, really to wait for you to appear on the chair in your room with a blindfold on."

"A blindfold?" she said, "That... err... sounds interesting."

"Bearing in mind your many instructions Mrs Booth, I fully intend it to be."

He was good to his word and stood taking his flowers and Champagne back to his room, thanking Jane for her hard work in arranging the evening and just seeing Mr Dawlish trying very hard not to show how peeved he was.

He made it back to his room and stepped in, placing his Champagne on the long dressing table and the flowers on the central coffee table. They were already arranged in a strange cardboard and plastic bag thing that meant he wouldn't have to search for a vase for a few days at least.

He decided that he was going to keep on his uniform seeing as Mrs Booth had seemed so impressed at his wearing of it.

He made himself a cup of tea feeling better for his first non-alcoholic drink since before dinner. He stepped out on to his balcony and peaked around her window and saw that she was sat on her upright dressing table chair, a scarf around her face and her hands in her lap, a second scarf around her wrist ready to tie the other no doubt.

He slid the door open and she turned her head listening for him evidently.

He tiptoed across the room and behind her reaching around her and grabbing the second scarf and pulling it and her free arm behind her, she gasped in surprise. He tied her hands together and stood again.

"So Mrs Booth, we meet again!"

"Captain Daniels?" she said.

"The same, surely you didn't think you could escape my clutches indefinitely?"

"I... I don't know what you mean?" she snapped back, getting into the acting the same as him.

"You play the innocent with everyone else Mrs Booth," he leaned in closer and grabbed her chin, "But not me." He let go of her face and walked around the chair, still talking, "I know you managed to make it look like poor old Mrs Freeman murdered Dr Heigl but this has your filthy paw prints all over it. How much was he blackmailing you for Mrs Booth?"

"I... I don't know what you mean..." she said hesitantly.

"He did the work on your breast enlargement didn't he." He leaned closer and grabbed her left breast giving it a fierce squeeze, "DIDN'T HE?"

"OWWW!" she cried out flinching away from him, "I don't know what you mean..." she gasped.

He hauled her to her feet and unzipped her from her dress which fell around her ankles so he grabbed her and turned her so she was bent over the back of her chair, her bare arse beautifully framed by her suspenders for whatever he wanted to do to it, he tied her hands behind her.

He picked up her fancy dress costume and hung it on the same kind of hanger that his had came on, no point in leaving it to crump on the floor after all.

He stepped back to the tied Mrs Booth and stroked a hand down her bottom, she flinched.

"So are you going to tell me everything I want to know Mrs Booth," he smacked her arse and she flinched again, "Or will it have to get complicated." He gave a second and much harder smack, but rather than the finch and the groan she just gave more of a contented sigh.

Bitch, it was going to be another one of those 'call that a spank' sessions. If he was honest the only thing he had really considered tonight was, in the way of her very first story, being the Grenadier Guards officer and buggering her, so much so he had even retrieved the tube of lube that she had in her top drawer.

"Did you kill Dr Heigl?" she made no sound so he wound up his right arm and smacked as hard as he could and if the sting in his hand and the crack of the skin on skin report was anything to go by it was a good one. She had really flinched to that one so he followed it up with a second, this time on her other cheek and that gave him the reaction he was waiting for.

"So still nothing to say Mrs Booth?" She made no movement and stood there illuminated by just the bedside lamps and some ambient light from the balcony. "Mrs Booth, I'm beginning to seriously lose my patience with you now, your commitment to your cause is exemplary but you commitment to your country leaves something to be desired, now..." he walked across the room and picked up the lube, running a stripe of it along his index finger, "If you don't start to err..." he chuckled quietly to himself, "open up as it were, then I'll have no option but to err... open you up myself!"

With that statement he pushed his lubed finger past her anus and up into her. She pulled away from his investigatory finger giving a short gasped cry.

"Oh come on Mrs Booth, a talented and experienced woman like you must have had almost as much going in your arse as you've had come out of it!" he pushed in again and down slightly, stretching her anus some more and she gasped again. "I think this could be the answer Mrs Booth, did you kill Dr Heigl?" he pushed his finger in deeper and down some and she cried out again, "Well Mrs Booth!" he slipped a second finger into her arse and she cried out again dropping her head somewhat, then as he pushed in again she hissed,

"I'm telling you NOTHING!" she growled loudly and confrontationally.

"As you wish Mrs Booth," he pulled out his lubed fingers, striking out at her arse again with his palm. This only brought forth a 'ooh yeah' from Mrs Booth.

He looked around the room and saw just what he was looking for. There was a slim glass single-stem flower vase that was rounded at the top and flared nicely at the bottom, he had one the same in his room. He took that, squirted some lube over it and pushed it slowly up her arse. Mrs Booth's head dropped again.

While this was happening he stepped next door, stripped out of his uniform and hung it on the hanger ready to go into the bag for collection the next morning. He headed back into the next room seeing Mrs Booth flexing her knees against the anal intrusion, while he took his place behind her, ready to fuck his first arse.

He couldn't remember having such a hard-on, made worse by pouring lube over it. He stepped behind her,

"OK Mrs Booth last chance, did you kill Dr Heigl?"

"Fuck... you..." she gasped.

"No Mrs Booth, quite the opposite in fact," he whipped out the small vase and stepped up behind her finding that her anus was a just the right height for him to push in. He took a grip of both of her buttocks and pulled them slightly and her arsehole came into a much better view.

He levelled his cock at the glistening entrance and slowly pushed in. Even though she'd had something quite large in there her muscles were keeping him out. He reached forward and pulled off her blindfold and the dressing table mirror was there with her face looking back at them both.

He pushed in and pulled her back on his cock and her eyes opened wide almost as wide as her mouth which gave a hissed, silent cry as she stretched sharply to allow him access, and he went in as deep as he could go.

There was some pain in her face and he stopped, withdrawing slightly to push back in again. He could see her pursed lips struggling to hold in a cry of pain or discomfort she might be feeling. Her look was one of surprise, what excellent acting?

"So Mrs Booth, is it as good as you remember from your first buggering guardsman?" She had closed her eyes and he could just make out her grimacing face as he started to fuck her properly, feeling the difference between this and regular vaginal intercourse - he was quite enjoying the cloying tightness and the grip her back passage had over his sensitive tip. "Mrs Booth?"

He could see her eyes were closed and she did appear to be enjoying what was happening to her. He stopped fucking her and smacked her arse cheeks, one after the other.

"Fuck me..." she hissed, looking down and breaking eye contact with the man invading her in the most personal yet impersonal way, "fuck me hard you bastard!" she snapped. He could see the few tears coming down her cheek, "Come on you cunt," she snarled, "I said fuck me! Fuck me up the arse like some bitch whore you found on the street," she pushed back on him, "I SAID FUCK ME!!"

He did so, pushing her down against the back of the chair pulling her back with a hand on hip and with her tied hands in the small of her back.

She wanted fucking did she? She had bragged that she'd lost her anal virginity before her wedding and that she'd been arse-fucked many times before this but he was pretty sure that she hadn't had this done to her in some time as her look as his prick almost popped past her anus was one of total surprise.

He carried on fucking, looking down and watching as he slid into that most private of holes, only to pull out again. The lube was a good one and was making the process very pleasing for him, and while he was enjoying the sensations in his genitalia, the caring passionate lover in him, the man he'd become making love to Julia, wanted to transmute that passion, that pleasure and share it with this woman, this bloody woman that did little but insult him and berate his efforts in... love-making?

Nah, there was no fucking way that what they were doing had anything to do with love. He wanted to reach under her and play with her clitoris knowing that there could be nothing pleasurable for her in this... this act from her past.

He knew that there was no way he could withdraw from her anus and fuck her vaginally whatever the porn movies showed and while he was enjoying himself he wasn't convinced that she was, but something must have shown in his face and her general demeanour changed and her vocalisation indicated that her pleasure was increasing. He wasn't sure if this was really the case but the noises certainly indicated that she was and rather than berate him or his technique she rather more encouraged

"Fuck me Captain Daniels!" she hissed, and he realised that her sexual pleasure was coming from her head as much of what he was doing to her and this gave him the impetus that he needed and he screwed her arse as hard as he could thinking about his pleasure rather than hers and that did it.

He watched her face change and took his lead from her gasps and groans and pretty soon he was spending deep into her bowels and there was a further look of surprise at what she could feel back there.

Strange again, perhaps the other people that had screwed her arse had worn condoms. He stood and slowly pulled his greasy cock from her seeing a dark stain around the base that he could only assume was blood.

He pulled her up straight by her shoulders and there was the first of several loud eruptions from her arse and Mrs Booth closed her eyes at both the physical and emotional discomfort it evidently caused.

Still in character he pushed her forward so she could see herself in the mirror, naked with a reddened face, her shaved pussy and big tits - his finger marks still evident on them