Author's Note: I get asked all the time if my stories are real or not. Well, here's a case where I'm telling you in advance that this is real. It happened. You can't make this stuff up.
I unzipped the bulging suitcase and frantically felt all around my clothes. I pushed down on the top of the pile until every inch of the suitcase had been covered. I felt nothing that would indicate a digital camera was buried inside.
I gazed once more at the carry-on bag I had searched twice already. It was no use. The camera was nowhere to be found.
Then it hit me. I had it with me at lunch. I remembered putting it on the back of the chair as I sat down. And, unfortunately, I remembered walking out without it.
I swore out loud and looked at the time. It was a quarter to five. The cruise ship left Nassau at six. Tomorrow we'd be in Miami and I'd be heading home. Maybe, if I ran, I could make it to the restaurant and back to the ship before it left.
Every picture I had taken during the seven day Caribbean cruise was on that camera. It was worth the risk. I grabbed my room key card and the ID card that would get me back onto the ship, shoved them into my purse and rushed out of the cabin.
I ran down five flights of stairs until reaching the lowest deck, from which I could exit onto the dock. They scanned my ID card and I was quickly out in the oppressive Bahamian heat.
My t-shirt clung to me like a second skin. I realized as I walked faster that I hadn't put my bra back on. I wasn't even halfway to the restaurant when I saw my nipples begin to protrude from the front of the shirt, which was speckled with areas of perspiration. I decided to give up some of my dignity in pursuit of my vacation photos.
Ten minutes brought me to the front door of the restaurant. I stopped, caught my breath, and entered. The eating area was upstairs and I scampered up the steps. At the top, I looked over the relatively empty bar and eating area. Soon, a smiling young girl approached me and I explained that I had left a camera at my table no more than three hours earlier.
The best case scenario would have been for her to say, "Sure. I have it." But my day was not going to go that smoothly. She did not know of any cameras that had been found, but she offered to ask the waiters and busboys. I agreed and watched her disappear into the kitchen. Meanwhile, I checked out the table I sat at for lunch and found nothing.
The girl reappeared shortly and said nobody had seen my camera. She opened the doors to the cabinet at the reception desk and we peered inside together. Nothing. She asked the bartender if anything had been turned in and he replied "No."
As I was about to give up, she picked up the phone and called the restaurant office, which was located down on the first floor. In broken English she asked about the camera. She stared at the floor while listening to the person on the other end. At one point, she looked up at me and said "Yes". She nodded once more, said "OK" and hung up.
"Please go to the office downstairs. They may be able to help you," the girl said.
I thanked her and headed swiftly back down the stairs. I walked around the souvenir-strewn area until I spotted a short hallway containing a door appropriately labeled Office.
My watch said 5:03. I still had a little time, but not much.
I knocked lightly on the office door. The seconds seemed to last forever as I waited for a response. A girl behind the counter at the cash register stared at me, smiling shyly when our eyes met.
Finally, the door creaked open and a middle-aged man with a deep tan glanced out at me. His eyes scanned my body once before returning to my face. At the same time, he pulled the door slightly further open and said, "Come in."
The office was dominated by a messy desk, but also contained two large chairs and an old mismatched couch that had seen better days. The man closed the door behind me.
"I understand you are missing a camera," he said while circling around to stand in front of me.
"Yes," I replied. "Do you have it?"
"Well, we have lots of things left behind by tourists."
The creepy little man was beginning to annoy me. And time was running out. He stared repeatedly at the front of my shirt and legs. It's not often I wished I had on something besides my exercise shorts, but this was one of the times.
"I'm really in a hurry, and if you have..."
"What ship are you on?" he asked abruptly.
I told him.
"Ah. So you have until six. No problem."
He moved behind his desk. "Describe this camera."
"It's in a blue carrying bag...a soft bag...with a long strap. The camera is a Fuji. It's silver," I said.
He opened a drawer and pulled out my camera, laying it on top of the desk. I knew better than to reach for it.
"Great," I gushed. "Thank you."
The man looked up at me. "You have many beautiful pictures on this camera. It would be a shame if you lost them, wouldn't it?"
My joy over finding the camera was quickly dashed by the apparent intent of this guy to make things difficult. I had no choice but to play along for now.
"Yes it would," was all I said.
"You have very little time and I don't like to play games. So I think we should settle this quickly. Please get undressed."
The words struck me right in the gut. The thought of having to pay him for the camera had crossed my mind. But not this.
"How much do you want?" I asked.
The man laughed. "I don't want money. I want you to take your clothes off."
My patience, and time, were running short. I gazed at the man one last time and turned towards the door.
"I wouldn't do that," he said curtly. "You won't be on the street more than a few seconds before one of our many cabs takes you on a ride to a place you don't want to visit. I suggest you stay and do as I say. Then you may get back on your ship."
I looked at his desk. "With my camera?"
He chuckled. "Yes. With your precious camera."
I remained close to the door, as far away from him as I could. I clutched the bottom of my shirt and hesitantly pulled it up. When it had cleared the bottom of my breasts and I felt my nipples in the warm air, I stopped, hoping this would satisfy him.
I'm 26 with a decent body and dark blonde hair. I'm certainly not embarrassed by my figure and spent most of the last week exposing as much of it as possible to the sun...and fellow passengers, both men and women. This wasn't my idea of flirting, however.
He simply waved with his hand for me to continue.
I lifted the shirt over my head and held it at my side. The man's eyes stared interminably at my bare chest.
"I really need to get going," I said almost in a whisper.
"Come closer," he said.
I walked the two steps it took to get within an arm's length of his desk. His eyes never left me. It was very tempting to throw my shirt back on and call his bluff about the waiting cab outside. But, for some reason I believed his story.
"Take off your shorts."
It was a command. I knew now that I would end up naked in front of this jerk. All I could hope for was that it went no further.
I tossed my shirt onto the couch and pulled down my shorts. I let them fall to the floor. I stepped out of my sandals and the shorts at the same time, then pushed them aside with my foot.
I wore black bikini panties. Unconsciously, I pulled up on the waistband. They hugged my hips and ass and cunt way more tightly than I wished at the moment.
"Go on," was all the man said.
I nervously lowered my panties, not sure which way to face. My anger had given way to apprehension that I might do something wrong and upset this guy. Meanwhile, my panties got added to the pile of shorts and sandals.
My captor stared some more, concentrating on my neatly shaven pussy this time.
"Turn around," he said.
I twisted until my ass faced him...stopped for a second...then continued back around. For some reason, when I was facing him again, I looked down at his crotch and saw the bulge in his khaki shorts. It would have normally excited me and even pleased me that I had brought about that response, but not today.
He walked past and stood very close behind me. Before I could prepare myself, his hands were on my breasts. His fingers expanded over my skin before squeezing my tits and pressing them hard against my body. Then he took each nipple between his fingers and rolled them, pinching lightly.