The First Voyage of Sinbad - Act 01

% The First Voyage of Sinbad --- Act I

% by Mogrem

*Concerning the immoral and nihilistic adventures of Sindibādu 'Sin' al-Bahriyy and his crew of lost women and girls.*

*N.B. Aforementioned immorality notwithstanding, all characters are over the age of consent.*

Our story is set in Berkshire, England, some time around about now.

In the prologue, titled Sinbad in the Sultan's Palace, we were acquainted with Sin, the new CEO of the business empire founded by his mentor, whom Sin referred to as the 'old man'.

It was an empire built on avarice, ruthlessness, and an unapologetic taste for life's basest pleasures. But now, having reached the top, and had to stop, Sin realises what's been bothering him. It's all been just too easy of late...

*Act I Chapter I. Melancholia; wherein Sinbad laments his easy life and questions the purpose of pleasure. Introducing the secretary.*

It was a Wednesday afternoon, coming on for the end of the working day, the week after last Friday's annual summer party in the Chairman's mansion. Things had got back to normal.

"What's it all for?" Sin asked himself, sitting in his office.

Well, actually he asked the girl under his desk blowing him.

He had lowered his seat but sometimes her head bounced on the underside of the glass and made his mobile skitter around. It was recording a video straight down through the glass. Sin had never tried that before and never heard anyone else try it, and had wondered why.

"You know, sex, Sandy." Sandy wasn't her name, it was his pet name for her because of her incredible long golden hair, which right now flowed over his lap and her back, almost touching the ground.

"All this sex. Its everywhere. But why? What's it for? Absolutely anything I want I can have, but to what end?

"I like it. The old man couldn't get enough of it, in his day. My girlfriend likes it. My girl*friends* like it. You seem to like it---"

She gave a noncommittal and muffled gurgle.

"---but one day still follows the other, doesn't it? Regardless. One day. After another. After another." He sighed deeply.

"I need to go back to basics, Sandy," he said, reaching under the desk to take control, pressing his hand on the back of her neck until his dick popped down her throat and she gave a choked off, "Ghk!"

"I said this to myself after the party," he continued, building up the pace.

"I need to go back to basics. Back to where I started, where I was when the old man found me, before he gave me all this," he said, gesturing around the office with his free hand, taking in his mentor's gifts; the plush furniture, the window overlooking a huge lush green quad in the middle of the palatial company HQ, the kneeling form of the pretty secretary.

He got to the edge of his climax and stopped the pace and held her there, down to the root, until he felt her struggling get weak. Then he let himself come directly down her throat and released her. She fell to all fours between his legs, coughing.

"Fuck knows how though," he muttered, staring out at the quad, as Sandy recovered enough to start licking his cock clean.

--------

*Act I Chapter II. Jealousy; wherein Sinbad sets his heart on adventure. Introducing the girlfriend, the maid, the dance instructor and the dance instructor's husband.*

That evening Sin was at home. In the week since the party his girlfriend had been more keen than usual. She was always like this after the annual bash, because although she needed to keep up the pretence of ignorance, she knew what went on at those things.

She might be pretty attached to the easy life and prepared to turn a blind eye to a lot to keep it, but that didn't stop her getting jealous. And whenever she got jealous she got amorous. Or maybe she feigned amorousness, presumably to recapture his attention.

As such this evening he had her stripped, blindfolded and handcuffed to the bed and was having his way. It had been her idea, because she thought that was the sort of thing he liked.

It was. It was fine. She was fine.

He felt distracted.

As he was thrusting away his phone on the night stand buzzed and flashed with a Telegram VOIP call, which hung up almost immediately, followed by a message, followed by a second and a third and a fourth. Without thinking or stopping he reached over, picked the phone up, leant it against his girlfriend's ribcage and tapped in the pin.

"Hey," she said, weakly. He ignored her and kept the slow pace of screwing as he found the Telegram thread.

It was from a dance instructor he had had a fling with a few months ago. She was touching forty, a short attractive brunette who kept her body well and had never had kids. It was, however, unspectacular and common kind of attractive.

He had met her at a charity fund raiser for a community centre that she ran lessons at and Sin's firm was sponsoring. For the look of it, you see. Important to give back.

It hadn't been anything special for him so he had let it tail off pretty quickly. But she had a filthy imagination and the morals of a cat, ironically for someone tutoring troubled girls at a charity run community centre. So that had kept him entertained, for a short while at least.

Evidently it had been a bit more special to her though, as she never stopped texting. There had been zero romance, or he thought there had been zero. But she was severely under-sexed at home and he'd given her a taste of what satiation felt like, just for a few weeks.

Usually he ignored her messages, or he responded by asking after her husband, just to play petty games. That hadn't stopped her. A week would pass and she would message again.

She hadn't called before though. And clearly she had thought twice about it this time, losing her nerve and hanging up.

The messages were the usual, albeit that little bit more needy. She was obviously at least a little drunk.

*Missed call*

»Hey, sorry, didnt meanto call you. how are you tho?«

»I'm so bored. Hes watching TV, I.m in bed. where are you?«

»Wish you could climb in the window and while he's watching TV and I'd be waiting for you on my back«

»I can hear his stupid TV show. So he'd hear you fucking his wife thru the wall«

As he was reading another message came through. It was a picture. A grainy picture taken with flash in a dark room, looking down her taught, well proportion naked body, with her hand between her legs.

Another picture came through. This time it was a selfie, set against a pillow. She was sucking her middle finger. A message followed it that said, »I know how much you liked to make me taste myself wish I was sucking my juices off your fingers instead.«

Sin hovered over the keyboard for a second before closing the phone. He pulled out of his girlfriend and stood up.

"Honey?" she said, "Where are you going?"

"Toilet, love. Won't be long."

"Don't make me wait, lover. I was so close," she purred, lying. He wished she wouldn't; he knew when she was close.

Sin threw on a black terrycloth robe and went downstairs, taking his phone with him. He was about to duck into his study when he remembered the maid was working late this evening. She would be in the kitchen.

He found her and asked how she wanted to make an extra two hundred quid. She looked up from cleaning and just stared at him, in his gown, leaning in the kitchen doorway.

"Well?"

Their maid was Spanish, early twenties. She was stocky, black hair (of course) which was tied up in a bun. Her best feature was her dark eyes. This evening though he needed her lips.

"OK," she said, finally smiling, not breaking his gaze. She started to undo her blouse.

"Ah ah," he said, shaking his finger.

"No?" she said.

"No. I need to tag you in upstairs." She looked confused. "I have something to take care of all of a sudden. So I, in turn, need someone to take care of the missus up there."

"She want me to... what..?"

"Oh she doesn't want. She's tied up and blindfolded. Again," Sin said, dismissively. The maid had walked in on his girlfriend trussed up like that more than once, when Sin had left her for a while, for punishment, or his own amusement. He enjoyed making her rely on the help to get free.

"No, she doesn't need to know. Just take over where I left off. Lick her out for me, will you? She'll think it's me come back. She likes it when I do that, especially when she's pinned down. She'll never know the difference."

"Lick her... out?"

"Eat her out. Go down on her."

She scrunched up her nose. "I'm not with girls. For two hundred, I'm not with a girl."

"You must have misheard, I said three hundred."

She opened her mouth to say four, but he held up the flat of his palm.

"Three fifty. Bring her off a couple of times. It's not hard once you get her button under your tongue. Then unlock her," he continued, throwing a key which the maid scrambled to catch, "and get out of there before she gets the blindfold off. Now please, we don't want her getting frustrated. There's a dear."

He turned and went into his study. He had a call to make to his neglected dance instructor.

He knew what he had to do now, the way out of his funk, the adventure he was going to take.

It was simple. Just get more sordid. Just like the old days.

--------

The dance instructor picked up just as Sin heard indecipherable noises coming from upstairs. He wondered if their maid had gone straight in or had teased around the bush for a while.

When she said, "Sin?" in a whisper at the other end of the line his attention snapped back. It was the first time they'd talked other than by message in months.

"Is the sofa your husband is sitting on up against the other side of the bedroom wall?" he asked, as an opener.

"What? " she said, bewildered. "Yes. It is. What is---"

"You're still naked?"

"Yes Sin. And I'm think about y---"

"Good. Get up, Go lean against that wall."

He heard a rustling then she said, in an even fainter whisper, "I've done it."

"Now tell me again what you wrote in those messages."

"I wish you w---" she started, so quietly he could hardly hear it.

He interrupted. "This isn't ASMR. Say it out loud."

"Please Sin. He'll hear."

"What's he watching?"

"Some Tom Clancy crap or something."

"Then he probably won't hear it."

He heard her take a deep breath. Where she had the phone, pressed against her ear as she leaned against the wall, he could hear the faint sounds of the television. It sounded like gunfire and a lot of shouting.

"I wish you would climb in through the window," she said, with daring clarity that surprised him.

"I wish you would come and find me here naked for you and fingering myself as I'm thinking about everything you used to do with me.

"I wish I could see your silhouette coming towards me right now. I'd sink down to my knees and open my mouth and wait for you, but I wouldn't stop fingering myself." He heard a scraping and a slight knock, indicating she had indeed slid down the wall to her knees.

"And then as you fuck my mouth I hope you tell me all the dirty things we're going to do together in future.

"I want my husband to hear. I want him to hear everything filthy thing we're ever going to do, that you're going to make me do. And I want him to hear my head knock the wall as you make me take your cock."

"Maybe we should do that some day," Sin said.

"Oh yes. I'll tell you when, I'll leave the window open and---"

"But first, I have something else in mind. You want me to tell you about it?"

"Yes Sin."

"You're still touching yourself?"

"Yes."

"Suck your fingers again. Imagine I've come in through the window, just like you said. And I saw you get to your knees, just like you have, and now you're sucking me off. Pump your fingers in your mouth just like you remember I used to fuck it. I want to hear it."

He could hear it. After a minute she choked up a bit and then she said down the line, coughing slightly, "I did it, Sin. It's amazingly hot imagining you being here again. I want to do it for real."

"I said there's something else I want to do first, remember? Do you want me to tell you what it is? Just like your fantasy; you get your throat fucked whilst I tell you what depraved fucking shit we're going to do?"

"Yesh!" she said, slightly slurring around her own fingers again.

"We're going to do all the filthiest things we used to talk about doing."

"Ffuck yesh."

"I'm going to hire a hotel room for the weekend. Somewhere no-one will recognise us."

"Mmm."

"But we won't be alone..."

"Mmm?"

"Those little sluts you mind? The little proto-whores fresh out of school with no jobs and nothing to do but cause trouble? The ones you're paid to keep off the street and out of range of their wino step-dads?"

"Yesh?" she said, hoarsely. He heard excitement and a little trepidation in her voice. She must remember their dirty talk all those months ago when they would fuck on the piled up mats in the community centre at night, after the young dancers had left and she had let him in.

"Feed them to me."

"Uh, ffuck!" she said, savagely. She sounded like she'd just stuck a couple fingers in her pussy, to match those in her mouth, and was getting there fast.

"Ffuck ffuck ffuck."

"We talked about it, you remember?"

"Yessh yesh." He heard her take the fingers out her mouth so she could respond properly. "Oh God yes, we did, I remember."

"You're going to it. Give them to me. Feed them to me and you'll get me back."

"Oh fuck you're a bad fucking man."

"Are you going to do it?"

"Oh god..." She was right on the edge.

"Do it. Sacrifice those little cunts to our pleasure and I'll think about keeping you."

"Fuuuckkk, yes yes... That's all they're fucking good for..."

Sin heard a cry of pleasure from up stairs as his girlfriend reached climax number one. That maid was a natural, evidently.

"Do it. Do it and I'll keep you like I'd keep a trained bitch---"

"Yes, fuck! You bastard, yes, please, please keep me..."

"---on all fours, on the end of a chain---"

"Ghhhh, ahh!..."

She must have dropped the phone because it went quiet.

A few moments later she said, much quieter, "Oh my God, that was so good. You are so bad. Thank God his programme's still going."

Another pause.

"Was that for real?" she asked.

"Yes."

A much longer pause.

He heard her take a deep breath.

"OK. I'll do it."

--------

Ten minutes later and he was in the kitchen sitting at the table, having a nice cup of chamomile tea, listening to the shrieks of his girlfriend's second climax.

He hit transfer on PayPal and heard a very faint 'ping' mingle in with the last echoes of pleasure.

A bare minute later, as he sipped, the maid came down stairs and into the kitchen, totally composed. She got herself a glass of water, which she gulped down in one.

They didn't acknowledge one another. She went straight back to cleaning the sink, where she had left off, as if nothing had happened.

Five minutes after that his girlfriend came down, looking very flushed, very smug, and just the right amount of glamorously dishevelled in her own white terrycloth gown.

She leaned down to kiss him and nibble his ear and run a hand down his chest.

"Darling, we have company," he said.

"I just want *everyone* to know how amazing you are, dear. Can you blame me, with a man like this?" The last was directed towards the maid, who didn't look up from the sink.

"You know dear, you were *so* much better than usual at that special thing you did for me tonight. I mean, you don't do it very often so its hard to remember, but I don't think I've *ever* been made to feel that *incredible* before."

Cheeky bitch, Sin though. She knows. She knows and she's rubbing it in.

"The technique was just, mmm. To die for. Have you been taking lessons?" She paused. "Like from a woman?"

The only question was, how did she know? He was clean shaven, a twice a day man, the second shave before he left work each afternoon; the boyish look helped to let people underestimate him. So was she really that much better? Or did the maid give it away somehow? Like letting her hair down so it was brushing up against... Wait...

... Had his girlfriend already known the maid's 'technique'? He didn't like any of the options.

Sin started to feel jealous.

"Only the best for you, my love," he said through a winched up smile.

"In that case," she said, "Let's do that a lot more. Just the same in fact. Exactly the same. Every. Night. My love."

With that she kissed him again, lightly on the lips. Then straightening up she sashayed over past the table to the sink.

She embraced the maid from behind, who turned in surprise, to have her face caught in his girlfriend's hands. She kissed her deeply, pushing her tongue into the maid's mouth.

When she eventually broke off the kiss she said, "You know, I just love when the help is extra helpful. And I love her lip gloss. So zesty."

"Oh well, I'm pooped," she said gaily. "Good night all. You can sleep in your own bedroom tonight can't you dear. I wouldn't want to disturb your beauty sleep on a work night."

And with that she left, dragging the maid behind her by the hand.

Sin was left on his own at the kitchen table, holding the dregs of a cold cup of chamomile tea still halfway to his lips, watching as the two of them disappeared up the stairs.

--------

*Act I Chapter III. Dance of the Lost Girls; wherein Sinbad recruits his crew. Introducing the younger dancer and the older dancer.*

The next evening, Thursday, Sin was staying at work late.

He knew his better half had asked the maid to come back that evening for 'just a little extra touching up around the place' and preferred to leave her to get it out of her system without him.

That lunch time the instructor had checked again how serious he was. Deadly, he'd written back. He gave her the address of a hotel in a crummy part of town --- the kind of place you could get a way with a lot in --- and said he'd booked it for Friday and Saturday nights and she was to find two of her girls to bring with her.

He'd expected push back on that. Not on principle, nor as a matter of taste, but purely on pragmatic grounds. How would she pick them out and work on them that quickly?

He knew the kind of girls she taught though, because he grew up around their sort. They were the kind of girls Sin used to specialise in, before his elevation from petty criminality and less petty immorality into the business world. They were never hard to catch, if you knew which traps to set.

In fact she didn't push back at all. Instead, what he got was a follow up Telegram message at seven PM, which would be midway through her evening community dance class.

»These are two of my cutest pieces,« she wrote, forwarding a video of dancers performing together.

It was two white girls. There was a shorter, younger blonde and a taller, older brunette.

The younger dancer looked sweet, a chocolate box image of a maiden. The slightly older one was more of an emo, or whatever that scene was called now, with heavier make up and nose piercings. They were dancing arse to arse yoga pants and crop tops to something R&B.

»I've asked them to do this routine together as a special thing, its kind of steamy. Do you like it?«

»I told them I knew an older guy, handsome and important guy who would think they were hot and that I would send the videos to him.«

Another video came through. The younger was backed up to a red-painted exposed steel pillar with her arms raised and wrapped around the pillar behind her, like she was tied to the stake. The older was gyrating and slut-dropping in front of her.

»I'm sounding them out without actually saying anything about what we want to do.«

Sin was pleased with that 'we'; pleased at the degree to which the instructor had bought into the idea, or persuaded herself she had.