A Girl a Boy and a Boat

Somewhat darker and a little more sinister than most of my other stories this one has elements of many genres; erotic couplings, interracial, nonconsent/reluctance to name a few, however overall, I think it is more of a romance than anything else.

But given the length of it, the story consists of 6 parts (all written), I decided the best place to put it was in Novels & Novellas.

As always constructive comments and criticism are welcome but please remember it is just a story, like the Marvel films it isn't actually real.

I hope you enjoy.

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Chapter 01 - Flight

"Would you like anything else?"

The stewardess smiled and asked as she leant across to collect the empty glass from the tray top.

"Oh yes, thank you... just some water please."

Samantha Miller glanced up at the attractive blonde and replied, before returning her gaze to the window and the views of blue sky, cotton wool clouds and an azure sea far below.

Idly staring out at the ocean beneath she actually saw nothing as she reflected on her life and the events that had brought her to make such a dramatic change to it. The unfolding drama ending with her flying out to a place she had never been to and, until she got to the airport, had never even heard of.

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Leaving university at twenty-one she had found herself with a fairly meaningless 2:2 degree in media studies and a substantial amount of debt incurred during her three years of occasional studying and frequent partying.

With her job prospects not looking particularly good she had eventually taken the decision to become a stripper and, hopefully, earn enough money to pay off everything she owed in a couple of years. After that she would retire from the life of an exotic dancer and find herself proper employment, although she had no idea as to what that might be.

Her audition at Annabelle's had been the most terrifying thing she had ever done, even worse than waiting for her final exam results at the end of her course.

Partly her anxiety was due to the fact she had never taken her clothes off in front of an audience before and, when it came down to it, she wasn't sure she would be able to. All of her previous experiences of being naked in front of a man had been when they were alone together and, usually, under the influence of a few drinks.

The other part, the one that really concerned her, was her insecurities about her looks.

Everyone told her she was pretty but she never thought it. While she had long straight dark brown hair that hung past her shoulder blades, big brown eyes and a rather cute upturned nose she always considered herself a plain girl. 5' 8" tall she also felt she stood out amongst the shorter prettier girls and while she had long shapely legs she felt her slender, willowy 34B-23-34 figure and rather modest breasts let her down.

Going for the audition she was convinced that all strippers needed a large bust. With that fixed in her mind she had got up on to the podium certain that she was wasting her time.

Not really knowing how to dance on stage she had thought her trial performance had been a total disaster requiring the club manager, an amiable and helpful 60-year-old named Peter Wilson, to have to direct her through a lot of it.

Instructing her how to strip, to cup her boobs and, even more embarrassingly, how and when to spread her legs to expose every detail of her most private parts, Peter had coaxed her through her first ever striptease, albeit only in front of a handful of the club staff.

By the time she had finished a thoroughly embarrassed and demoralised Sam had been sure she would be rejected.

"The job's yours if you still want it?"

She could still remember his words that had left her standing in front of him totally speechless.

Adopting the stage name April, she had quickly overcome the embarrassment and had then taken to being an exotic dancer like a duck to water. The feeling of power and control she had over the audience when she was on stage, intimately exposing her body had been like a drug to her.

The same had been true of the private nude dances when she had started to do those. Rubbing herself against the men and letting them touch her breasts when they had paid extra for the privilege had been an exciting, and financially rewarding, extension to performing on the main podium.

Adding to her enjoyment was the fact that the money had been even better than she thought it would be. She had been able to save enough to pay off all her debts within eighteen months which had been a satisfying bonus for her.

However, her personal life had taken a major downturn during that time.

When she had started stripping, she had made a conscious decision to stay away from men and relationships and, up until the latter part of her second year of dancing, she had been very successful.

With her debts settled she had started to relax and that was when she had met Jason Pratt.

Quite a bit older than her he had been a regular customer at the club and after buying a private dance from her he had asked her to go out with him.

Although Samantha had politely but firmly declined Jason had persisted and, over time, he gradually wore her down until she had eventually agreed, albeit reluctantly, to have dinner with him.

Despite her concerns their relationship had progressed speedily and quite happily after that first date. Jason had seemed something of a mysterious loner to begin with but gradually Samantha had brought him out of his shell. More importantly though he didn't object to her stripping, something that the other girls at the club frequently complained about when discussing their boyfriends.

However, once he moved in with her things slowly began to change for the worse.

At first it was just the questions: When would she be home? Where was she going? Why was she late?

She laughed it off to begin with but it quickly grew into more and he became increasingly controlling: he didn't want her seeing her friends, she had to come straight home from the club, she had to wear the clothes he wanted her to and he demanded to know how much money she was making.

Then finally he had suggested she stop dancing altogether and become an escort. He was convinced that she could earn a lot more for them that way.

The idea of having sex for money didn't bother Sam at all. She already knew that several of the girls who she worked with at the club occasionally turned their hand to prostitution, especially when they needed the funds. She had even considered doing it herself a couple of times when she had found herself short for the rent.

However, being pressured into it by a boyfriend who she was starting to despise wasn't something she was willing to allow happen.

Jason didn't let up though and continued to harangue her about it on a daily basis until in the end she had started to pack his things and told him to get out and that she no longer wanted to see him. That was the first, and only time, he had hit her. Slapping her several times he had split her lip and bruised her cheek before pushing her back onto the bed and virtually raping her.

Laying under him she had simply stared at the ceiling waiting for him to finish, promising herself that this would be the first and the last time he would do this.

That was when she had resolved to leave him at the first opportunity.

She had had to take several days off work, much to his displeasure, and even when she went back she had needed to use more than her normal amount of make-up to cover her fading bruises.

Although he hadn't hit her again he had kept making suggestions about her becoming an escort. She knew then it was just a matter of time before she either did what he wanted or he would hit her again.

Biding her time, she had gone to the club for her usual evening shift only to be told it was closed for the immediate future due to a burst pipe.

Unable to work she had gone for a coffee with a couple of the girls before going home.

As soon as she walked in the flat, her gut feeling told her something wasn't right.

That was when she noticed the strange coat and bag laying on the sofa.

She was still staring at them trying to work out who they might belong to when the first groan emanated from the bedroom.

"Oh yes... Oh Jason... yes, yes!"

She had tiptoed to the door to be confronted by the sight of Sadie, one of the other strippers from the club, kneeling naked on the bed as she was fucked from behind by her equally nude boyfriend.

Sam must have stood there watching for thirty seconds or more before the pair eventually saw her.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jason had screamed at her as if it was all her fault while Sadie had tried to cover herself with a pillow, "You're supposed to be at work."

"What am I doing here?" Samantha had snorted scathingly by way of a response, "I'm watching you, you loathsome piece of shit, fucking that little slut in our bed."

"She's not a slut...." He tried desperately to defend the other girl.

"Just get out. Both of you just get the fuck out." Sam lost the plot and started screaming.

The two of them had grabbed their clothes and got dressed while she had simply watched, an expression of utter loathing on her face.

"I'll come back and deal with you later." Jason had snarled at her as he closed the front door behind him, leaving her standing by herself with her heart thumping against her ribcage.

She hadn't cried. Instead, as she stood there, she had felt an overwhelming sense of relief knowing she was done with the cheating, controlling, abusive bastard that was her boyfriend.

Certain he had meant what he had said she had hurriedly packed two suitcases with as much of her stuff as she could carry. Preparing to leave him she had no idea where she would go but she just knew she had to get away.

With no immediate family and a flat that was only rented, with none of the furniture in it belonging to her, there was nothing keeping her there.

A quick check of her savings account confirmed she was doing the right thing and left her even angrier when she found he had also taken a substantial amount of her money. There should have been close to two thousand pounds there but now it was down to barely a half of what she should have.

After quickly transferring everything that was left to another account she had gathered up her bags and, calling for an Uber, had set off for the airport. With no plan in mind other than to get a long way away from him she decided she would simply leave the country; she hadn't had a holiday in ages so she would head for somewhere that was hopefully warm.

Sam loved the sea, it had somehow always drawn her to it so that, along with the prospect of sunshine, she had been prompted to look for a tropical island somewhere.

Heading straight to the ticketing desk she had found that Saint Martin was the first place the airline had had an available seat for. So, after spending a few minutes researching the place on google, she had made her decision and paid for a one-way ticket before checking in her bags at the desk.

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She was still lost in her thoughts, gazing absent-mindedly out of the window, when the seatbelt sign above her head flickered on.

"Ladies and gentlemen we have started our descent towards Saint Martin and the captain has switched on the seat belt sign...."

The voice of the stewardess droned on as the half-empty aircraft started its descent over the crystal-clear blue Caribbean sea towards the small green island that was her destination.

Samantha knew next to nothing about where she was headed except the little she had read in the guide book that she had bought back at the airport in England, just after she had purchased the one-way ticket to get here.

There was one town, a lot of beaches and the primary industry was tourism. Aside from that there was little of interest for her.

Studying the landscape as they got lower, she could make out palm trees and a variety of buildings dotted in amongst them. Some were small while others were larger, boasting the vivid blue shapes of swimming pools in their grounds.

Sweeping low over the main town with its small marina she noted, with pleasure, the variety of boats moored there. Samantha had never been a sailor but, for some reason, she found the idea of them rather romantic.

Watching as the ground rose up to meet them, she got her very first close-ups of what she hoped would be her new home, at least for the immediate future. Then finally, with a bump, the plane touched down and the pitch of the engines rose as the pilot reversed thrust to slow them down before turning off the runway and taxiing to the small, somewhat dilapidated terminal building.

"What is the nature of your visit." The solitary policeman on duty asked when it came to her turn to step up to the desk.

"Errm.... Just to spend some time here."

"I see. How long do you expect to stay?" Looking up he studied her thoughtfully.

"How long is my visa valid for?"

"Twelve months. Then you would need to go to the main police station to renew it." He smiled and stamped her passport before handing it back to her, "Unless you get married to an islander in the meantime."

"Thanks. I'll bear it in mind."

Checking her watch, she noted that completing the immigration formalities had taken her a good thirty minutes even though the plane had been less than half full.

Even then once she was through the bags still hadn't appeared in the reclaim area and she had to wait another half-an-hour to finally get her luggage back.

With no plan, other than to get away from England and Jason Pratt, she had arrived in Saint Martin knowing no one and having no idea what she was going to do. All she had was the clothes in her suitcases, the small amount of money in her bank account, her mobile phone and a credit card.

Sighing resignedly, she collected her bags and strolled past the unattended desk that passed for the customs hall, before exiting out into the warm sunshine. The guide book had informed her about the local buses and, wanting to keep her expenditure as low as possible, she chose to get one into the capital, the only substantial town on the island.

The short ride didn't take very long and Sam was soon stepping off the bus at the main coach station. Expecting something a little grander she was somewhat shocked to find that the main bus depot was nothing more than a small ticket office, some public toilets and a parking bay that would take just two coaches.

With her first priority finding a place to stay Samantha made some enquiries at the ticket office and was directed to a cheap hotel at the back of the main square. Ten minutes later she handed over her card at the hotel reception desk to book herself a single room for the first week. With that problem solved she was able to relax knowing that tomorrow she would be ready to look for employment, after which she could search for somewhere more permanent to live.

That night, after eating in a small burger restaurant close by her accommodation, Samantha Miller lay in bed, alone, feeling she was comfortable with who she was for the first time in months. It was only then that she realised just how controlling her ex had become and how much he had been leeching the life out of her.

She was still nervous about what she was doing but at least now she was her own person and not cowering in fear of someone else.

It was with those pleasant thoughts filling her head that she drifted off to the best sleep she had had in a long while.

Getting up the next morning Sam showered and then dressed appropriately for the weather in her denim shorts, a red vest top and a pair of low-heeled sandals. Adding just a minimum of make-up so she looked presentable she headed out to get breakfast and then, hopefully, to find herself a job.

Coffee and croissants in a nearby café took care of her morning meal requirements and she took some time while she was eating to think about just what she would do for work. It was then that a possible solution came to her. On her walk from the bus station yesterday she had passed by the marina and noticed the large number of bars and restaurants there.

Feeling sure one of those would have a vacancy for a barmaid or a waitress she decided the quayside was the perfect place to start her search.

Paying for her breakfast Sam set off towards the harbour with a slightly more buoyant feeling about the day.

The first place she tried, a small establishment, simply told her that they didn't need anyone. However, the second, a larger bar called Samuel's situated on the marina front with an advertisement for live music, was a lot more encouraging.

When she had asked about work to the girl behind the counter she had suggested she take a seat while she went to fetch the manager.

"Hi, I hear you're looking for a job." A portly middle-aged black man came out of a door marked private and walked straight towards Samantha.

Smiling she got up and held out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Samantha and yeah.... I err... I... umm... I just arrived yesterday and I.... I need to find myself a job."

"Welcome Samantha, I'm Errol. I'm the manager here." He grasped her fingers lightly, "So, why don't you take a seat and we can have a chat."

"You can call me Sam if you prefer." She finished introducing herself properly before sitting back down.

"So, what sort of thing are you looking for?"

"Anything." She replied hopefully, "Waitressing, bar work whatever."

"Are you happy to wait tables?" He paused for a moment then asked without further comment.

"Sure." Sam replied enthusiastically, "I worked tables in a small pizza restaurant when I was at university."

"Good, can you start tonight?"

Her eyes lit up and she grinned happily, things were going better than she could have ever imagined,

"Absolutely. What time?"

Laughing Errol carried on, "Let me fill you in with the details first and then I can get all your particulars."

With that he went through all the basics of the job; the hours, the pay, the time off and anything else he could think of. Then he took her passport and made a note of her details so that he could register her with the local police and get her set up on the payroll.

"Great, that's everything." Errol informed her putting down the pen and pad he had been writing on, "So, be back here at four and Francine will take you through everything you need to know."

"Err... what should I wear?" Sam asked as she stood up to go.

"What you've got on is fine. Keep it simple and give the customers something to look at." He winked at her as he said it making her relax.

She chuckled, "I guess bars are the same the world over."

"You had better believe it." He replied smiling back at her, "See you at four."

"Oh, one last thing." She paused half-way to the door, "If you know of anywhere I could rent a room I'd appreciate it. At the moment I'm at the hotel but I want to find something a bit more permanent."

"I'll ask around. Maybe Francine knows of something."

"Thanks, See you at four."

Leaving the bar Sam looked at her watch. She had a few hours before she was due to start and now she had resolved her work problem she decided to do a little sight-seeing and find out more about the town she was in.

Starting out down by the quayside she took her time and wandered along looking at the various boats moored up there. Most of them were small pleasure craft but there were also a couple of larger vessels with boards advertising they were available to charter. Intrigued by these she paused, studying them a little more carefully and wondering what sort of person owned them.