DOLL HUNTER

 

 

Book 3: Going Fishing

 

 

by John Rookwood

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2020 by John Rookwood

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to johnrookwood@yahoo.com

 

Chapter 1

 

I watched the massive cruise ship on the display in the tiny control center of the Charybdis. The screen showed the ship as it cut through the dark ocean like a hot knife through butter on its way to Hawaii with sonar pinging out ahead of it to warn the pilot of any threats to the bulky ocean-going beast.

We were behind and below the liner, The Pacific Pineapple, in my brand new submarine.

Okay, it wasn't 'new' new it was actually the 'old as hell but new to me' type of new. Mancipium had purchased the twenty-plus year old vessel from an arms dealer who specialized in arranging for old ships in the navies of southern Asia to be decommissioned and then either 'scuttled' or outright misplaced. From the design and the few remaining non-English markings, I would put my money on it being from the Pakistan navy. After extensive modifications, a new paint job to make it blend in better with the seawater, several weeks of training for me, and a day of implant modification for the Tanyas, we had put out to sea and were currently on an assignment for the company.

Now I watched for my target through the slightly shaky feed, which was on extreme zoom. One of the many refits had been the installation of a powerful camera to the periscope for better observation, and the image was currently projected on the large screen of the command-and-control room. On the monitor I saw two figures moving slowly along the rearmost area of deck twelve, where the children's pool lay. Since the area was a falling hazard, there was a set of eight foot tall railings around it to keep the kids safe, but it was nothing a determined adult couldn't scale.

Being after midnight the pool was closed, and the lights were out so the two forms were mere silhouettes in the light coming from the active areas of the vessel.

I watched the pair get to the rearmost edge of the ship and start kissing and groping each other, before the woman pulled a small wine bottle from her purse. She opened it and drank several long gulps before kissing her partner again. As she did so, her right hand moved to the neck of the bottle she now held behind the young man's back and dropped something into it.

The kissing went on for a moment or two before she offered the bottle to her paramour, who chugged from the bottle until it was empty.

Tossing the glass receptacle overboard, the two made out for a few minutes until the man seemed to lose his balance.

Helping him regain his footing, the female wrapped his chest with what appeared to be a wide belt and then went to work helping him climb the safety fence. Once the pair were at the top, she tossed her purse overboard and then climbed over the topmost rail, pulling her lover after her.

Now on the outside of the rails she peeled off her dress, revealing a simple yellow bikini underneath and grabbed his wrist, prying it loose before shoving the now panicking male away from the rails and out into the open air.

As soon as his flailing form was airborne, she dove off after him, and the two hit the cold ocean a dozen meters apart. Within seconds the man floated to the surface, supported by the belt under his arms, which had inflated to become a simple life preserver. The woman swam to the surface on her own and joined him.

"Okay Red," I said to my doll. "They're in the water, let's go retrieve them."

"Aye, Captain." Red responded crisply as she manned the navigation and propulsion controls.

I had the girls call me captain while we were on the sub because it was traditional, and it sounded better than 'master' which was the default for brainwashed dolls like them.

The Charybdis had gotten a lot of automation upgrades during the refit, and now only required two people to operate, which was an enormous improvement over its original six-person requirements. For the most part, we just needed one person monitoring the ship's systems and scanners while another person operated the helm. In a pinch, one person could run the ship so long as things were going smoothly, like when making a straight run on the surface.

My red-haired Tanya lookalike was acting as the helmsman, or was it helmswoman? Helmsslave? Whatever the term should be, she was it and I was monitoring.

As we moved closer to the bodies in the water, Red brought the Charybdis up to break the surface of the sea and positioned the top of the sub's hull just above the waterline. I left the command and control center and climbed to the upper deck to open up the forward access hatch, pulling on a balaclava mask before I stepped out onto the wet surface of the submarine to help Blue Tanya, who was blond at the moment, in getting the target into the ship.

The boy she had thrown overboard was seventeen going on eighteen and skinny. His five-foot-ten frame had little muscle and even less fat, so even soaked in saltwater I was able to hoist him over my shoulder and carry him down the ladder into the Charybdis without too much effort. Moving past the pair of forward torpedo tubes I had insisted we keep in case of trouble, I carried him to the halfway point of the upper deck where the old crew bunks had been replaced with a trio of six foot by six foot cells.

With Blue's help, I stripped the semi-conscious boy out of his clothes and helped him into a simple yellow jumpsuit as he mumbled, "Linda? What's going on... Where are we?"

Blue stroked the boy's dark hair and told him, "We're safe, Charles, just relax."

He did, but not because she had comforted him. The roofie she had slipped into the wine finally took full effect and he passed out.

Once he was locked away, I went through the kid's garments. His phone had died in the saltwater and his wallet held a few hundred dollars plus a half dozen cards. The wallet and clothes went back up topside where I tossed them into the water. Maybe someone would find them, maybe not. If they were found it would just add to the illusion that he fell overboard and drowned.

The cash went in my pocket. I wasn't poor by any stretch, but cash was always spendable. Currently, my personal accounts held more than half a million in U.S. dollars, and that was after paying off the RV earlier in the year. I'd collected one hundred and twenty thousand for grabbing the pilot, Victoria, before taking on this new position of 'aquatic acquisitions agent', and my boss, who I privately called Mr Stoneface had transferred the balance of Doc Shotty's accounts to mine for removing him as a problem during that operation.

Once the hatch was closed, I called down to Red and had her change course to take us to the rendezvous point. Moving at thirty knots underwater, it would take a good eight hours to get there, I planned to shave an hour or so off that time by breaking the surface at the halfway point which would let us move at about forty knots. Thirty knots was about thirty-five miles per hour or fifty-five kilometers per hour. Moving along the surface would allow the engines to push us faster and forty knots was a tad over forty-six miles per hour or seventy-four kilometers per hour.

Back in the brig, Blue was dying her hair back to the azure color I preferred. Once she had applied the dye and wrapped her head, I spoke with her.

"Report." I commanded.

Giving me a salute, she responded, "Yes, Captain. As instructed, I boarded the Pacific Pineapple in Los Angeles under the name Linda Ackerman and observed Charles Randolph and his two-man security detail."

The kid had body guards because he was about to become rich. His parents had done well as lawyers and invested in several tech startups that went big. His dad, Kevin, had been behind the wheel when a tractor trailer slid across the highway during a torrential downpour, killing them both and putting the kid in the hospital for weeks. Charles had been thirteen at the time, and his father's younger brother had stepped in to care for the kid until he came of age. Now someone wanted him dead. The most likely candidates were his guardians, Uncle Joe Randolph and Aunt Bethany who had control of the kid's inheritance.

That was my theory anyway, the contract had called for the kid to die in an accident but director nine, AKA Stoneface McIncharge, had asked me to insure the boy was delivered to our people alive instead.

Blue continued her report, "His security detail was lax, and it was easy to arrange an innocent looking meeting at the pool on the second day, where I began his seduction. As instructed, I led him on, feigning interest that day, and then allowed him to invite me to dinner on the third day. A stroll around the deck led to a make-out session, but I rebuffed his further advances, claiming it was uncomfortable being watched by his guardians. Today he agreed to meet me in secret, sneaking away from his watchers and meeting me on the Lido deck near midnight."

I nodded, and she went on, "I drugged small bottle of wine and once the effects took hold, convinced him to climb the security fence and pushed him overboard and then held onto him until you arrived, sir."

"Were you able to stage your room before you left the ship?" I inquired.

"Yes, Captain." She nodded, "I wiped away all of my own prints and then left the hairs you provided in the hairbrush and touched many things with the gloves you gave me."

The hairs and gloves had come from Mancipium Enterprises, the company that paid me to kidnap people. I was fairly certain I knew their plan, Stoneface hadn't been too worried about keeping me out of the loop. He had given me the gloves with fingerprints etched into them along with the hairs and a photo of a pretty young blond that he wanted one of my dolls to make herself up to resemble.

Blue had changed her hair color and style, added contact lenses and used makeup to make herself look similar to the girl in the photo while aboard ship.

"Did he fuck you?" I asked my slave girl.

"No, sir." She replied without a hint of embarrassment. "He wanted to, of course, and I dangled the possibility of intercourse in order to motivate him to join me on the Lido deck, but he never got past groping my breasts."

"Good." I congratulated her. I preferred to keep my living sex dolls for myself.

"Has my sister been caring for your needs, Captain?" Blue asked as she washed the dye out of her hair and began to dry it. "If you are feeling restless, I would be happy to service you orally, vaginally or anally."

Ah, the wonders of modern technology. The brain implant that had turned the twins into my sex slaves insured that they were always looking for ways to serve me and make me happy.

"Red has worked hard to make up for your absence," I informed her, "But my cock has missed your mouth, come and get it reacquainted with you."

Blue finished drying her hair and, with her now neon blue locks, knelt in front of me and unbuckled my belt. She pulled down my pants and planted a series of kisses on my dick, starting at the head and working her way down to my balls. Taking my testicles between her lips, she gently massaged them with her tongue as my manhood stiffened under her ministrations. Once I was good and hard, she took me in her mouth and began caressing my shaft with her tongue as she slid her face down my cock and back up again.

Both twins had the same sexual programming, but I preferred blowjobs from Blue, I wasn't certain why. Maybe it was the way she hummed as she sucked me, like she was doing now. Maybe it was just a psychological thing, and my subconscious had randomly decided that Red was for fucking and Blue was for sucking.

As my adoring slavegirl worked to extract my cum, she bobbed her head while humming a tune I recognized as the old 1980s song, 'I Love Candy'. I almost laughed since her mother had been a toddler when that song was a hit. I wondered idly where she had picked it up.

When she sensed that I was nearing climax, Blue shoved her face down to the base of my shaft, her nose buried in my pubic hair while the tip of my dick brushed the back of her throat. Holding that position, her tongue undulated under my rod and she did a sort of gurgling laugh that sent some amazing vibrations down my shaft, triggering my orgasm. I jizzed down her throat, and she swallowed dutifully. A doll has no gag reflex unless the customer wants it to have one.

When I spurted my last drop in her mouth, Blue licked me clean and then gently returned my softening penis to my pants and awaited further instructions.

"Go relieve your sister, if you are still on duty at oh-four-hundred, break the surface and increase speed to maximum." I instructed her.

She stood up, still wearing just the yellow bikini, saluted me and confirmed, "Aye, Captain."