I woke to find Kitti giving me a hum job, and I mean that quite literally! She was humming something that could have been the Hungarian National Anthem for all I knew, while tongue-lashing my prick in her pretty mouth.

My voice was sincere when I asked her, “Lets turn aound here, Love, and I’ll return the favor!” When I latched hold of her clit I gave her a musical welcome to the Southland by humming “Dixie.”

If her writhing around were any indication she liked our music just fine! I mused perhaps she was a southern Hungarian and made a mental note to ask her later.

Her mouth felt so fine I wondered where the hell she had learned to bring a simple blow job to the level of an art? I decided I really didn’t want to know and laid back to enjoy the afterglow.

When our passion was spent I asked her if she’d enjoy riding to a local spot for breakfast and she was all for it. “What should I wear, Master?”

“Oh, something casual would be fine, Dear.” I informed her. “They do require some sort of footwear, though.”

Kitti pulled a pair of shorts over a sheer bikini that showed both her nipples and cameltoe, and grabbed a purse and some sandals. She headed for the garage, assuming we’d take one of the vehicles.

Instead I told her, “Let’s go out the back way, I think we’ll have more fun.”

As soon as we exited the house she caught sight of the large pool, then the neat little dory tied to the dock. “Those dorys are so much fun to sail in.” She said, “If you’re lucky enough to know someone who owns one.”

“Call me Mr. Lucky, then,” I responded, “I know you, and that one is yours. We’ll buy another so we can have fun racing them. We’ll take something a little faster this morning, though.”

I walked out onto the dock where the big boat was moored. “This boat was essentially built to the same specifications and by the same company as a Coast Guard 47-foot motor lifeboat, except I wasn’t limited by Congress as to what I could spend on her.”

“I paid a thirty year Coast Guard veteran of the boats to oversee every day of her construction. To say she is sea worthy is a serious understatement.”

Katalin’s pretty mouth was hanging wide open in shock! She stammered, “It’s a ship here in the lake!”

“No, not quite, Darling,” I confided, “Though she is one of the largest and most expensive motor yachts on the lake. Let’s warm the engines and generator, and I’ll pull up some videos on You Tube to show you what her Coast Guard sisters are doing in the ocean surf.”

I led the way to the enclosed pilothouse and both of the engines and the generator started immediately. I watched the gauges as Kitti enjoyed playing ship’s captain in the specially made chairs.

I pulled the United States Flag out and clipped her to a sturdy pole installed behind the exposed bridge. The sides of the vessel were painted attractively with the colors of the Lone Star State, but the stars and stripes flew proudly above them! We were now open and ready for business.

Contacting the internet on the computer, I pulled up the videos of other boats like ours charging into twenty foot plus surf and disappearing for seconds or shooting into mid air over a big wave.

Kitti was awe struck! “This boat could roll in the surf and bob up in ten seconds like those?”

“Yes, she would except she never will unless we take her down to the Gulf and chase a hurricane, or travel up to the north-east or north-west coasts.”

“I wanted a super safe, high performance fishing boat I could depend on, and I’ve enjoyed every day on her. I’ll cast off the lines and we’ll go eat.”

Kitti spoke up brightly, “Your First Mate will help with that, Captain!”

“Just take the loops off the dock cleats and coil them on the deck, Sweetheart. They’re not long enough to cause trouble.” Within half a minute our boat was drifting free. We went back to the pilothouse and I applied power to one screw, then the other to jockey her away from the dock.

We stayed at a minimum speed until we were well away from the shoreline. My eyes stayed glued to the water ahead of us and the screen of our radar unit. It is very sensitive and will spot a canoe or kayak easily, but the signature of a swimmer is difficult to recognize, unless you know what you’re looking for.

I asked, “Are you enjoying this, First Mate?” I glanced quickly at Kitti, and she was grinning from ear to ear like a child! “I’ll let you take the con, the controls, later when we’re further away from traffic. If you’d like you can go out on deck or up onto the exposed bridge? The two controls there are identical to these two stations.”

“Master.” Kitti gushed. “I haven’t seen our bed, kitchen, or bath on board, but I don’t know which I love the most, my Master or my Captain!”

Of course I had to laugh with her! I took the precaution of slowing my speed, which was a good thing, because one of the tiny blips on my radar screen became a jet ski and zinged across our bow like a rocket! I grabbed for my air horn switch and gave him a long loud blast to protest his rudeness.

I then got on the Coast Guard channel and reported a 20 ton, 47-foot vessel on a 5 knot steady course had almost been broad sided by a speeding jet ski.

The commander of the Coast Guard Auxiliary vessel asked, “Is that you in the Textron Motor Lifeboat?” At my affimative he told me, “Nice evasive tactics, Captain. We saw that and we’re in hot pursuit of him.”

Isn’t it grand when the good guys are actually watching the bad guys?

We moored at one of the marinas that offers “drive in docking.” I like the place because they have plenty of bumpers at their docks, and try to enforce a no wake zone, and they love it when I bring the big MLB in.

She attracts sightseers and more business. I noticed my Kitti was attracting her full share of sightseers, too!

A man in a yachting suit walked up to us and seemed to divide his time between staring at Kitti’s perfect breasts and our MLB. “My name is Bill Murphy.” He said, “I’ll offer you a million for her.”

I turned to Kitti and winked, then spoke to Mr. Murphy. “Well, she is only my slave, but I have grown very fond of her. Besides, she is carrying my child, so I suppose I’ll have to refuse your kind offer.”

Murphy was red in the face and choking on his expensive cigar! “Good God, man. I was refering to your boat, not your woman!”

Kitti’s pretty face assumed a pout, then she buried her face in my chest sobbing! I was impressed by her impromptu acting ability.

“Mr. Murphy,” I told him, “you’ve insulted my poor slave, and with her pregnant too. You’ve also insulted our boat. The Coast Guard pays a million two for them, and I have at least a million five invested in ours!” Kitti and I stomped off in a huff, then laughed through our breakfasts!

We wandered through the marina’s store. I knew she’d never spent a day on the water under the hot Texas sun and didn’t want her blistered.

I insisted my darling find a wide brimmed hat, sun screen, and a cotton T-shirt. She found some shirts she adored and had to have two bright colors of them with “I’m with stupid” printed on them. “Stupid” was printed on the other two. You can probably guess which she chose in my size.

What the hell, I was proud to be the public straight man for such a beauty, and knew no one would consider it demeaning.

We bought her a non-resident fishing license, she pouted when I told her we’d better do this part legally.

We eased our way out of the marina using the controls on our exposed bridge. I wanted the extra visibility to watch for the increasing traffic. Twenty minutes later I kicked those twin Detroit Diesels and their 870 combined horsepower in the butt!

Kitti clung to me and screamed in her exhilaration! She was having a blast!

I know the maximum speed of a regulation MLB is 25 knots which is 28.77 miles per hour. The cruising speed is 22 knots. We were several thousand pounds lighter than the regulation vessels after our revisions to our living quarters, the removal of most of the rescue gear, and with our minimal crew.

I considered having our Coast Guard friends shoot us with their radar gun, then decided my WAG (Wild Assed Guess) of 30 MPH was close enough. It was close enough for my Darling seated at a control station high in the exposed bridge with near twenty tons of one of the toughest little boats in existence spanking her sweet ass!

“Hold her steady on the course, First Mate.” I showed her the compass setting, then pulled the engine throttles back to cruising speed. Her shorts and bikini slowed me only a moment, then I was lubing both of us and sitting her in my lap.

Inserting a lubed finger into her anus loosened her and prepared her for another. She was jilling her clit, then her vagina. I added my second lubed finger and began slamming them into her.

She shouted she wanted me inside her and I quickly obliged her. Her tight ass felt so fine! Anal sex has a touch of the forbidden about it, so I’ve always enjoyed it.

My Kitti is gloriously orgasmic, especially when taken anally! She came once, twice, then three times, then I lost count. I pinched her nipples and began making motions of milking her.

I demanded of her, “Are you making milk for my baby and me, slave?” I came too and she nearly threw herself out of my lap as she came along with me! I idled our engines and hung onto her carefully until she revived in my arms.

Kitti asked me, “Do we ever have to leave this boat, Master? Could we stay on her forever? Oh, our baby is upset over something. Yes, I am gypsy and know when he is upset, though he is only a tiny embryo. You are concerned over something. A lift? A boat hoist system?”

I exclaimed, “Kitti, I have never heard of anything of the sort! How could you communicate with a tiny fetus, and how could he know about me?”

“I am gypsy, Master. We are not the same as others. Am I right about what I said our son was concerned about?”

I led her down to the pilothouse and opened the folder in our computer where I’d saved pictures of other MLBs in the surf. I then showed her pictures I’d saved of two of the same boats being either raised out of or set into the water with a lift.

“I was merely thinking if we had a system and pier like that for her there would be no need to have a crane to lift her out in case of a large hurricane. I have a cradle on the flat bed of another truck we could pull her up into the yard on. You tell our little one to rest easy and grow. Mom and Dad will take good care of his boat!”

Kitti whispered, “I knew you would be a good father, Master, even though you were a little out of sorts when I first saw you in the bar at the hotel.”

I was shocked at what she’d just said! “Did you know what I planned to do then? Never mind, ‘You are gypsy.’ Could you tell me now if we are going to catch any fish, or should I plan on taking you out to dinner?”

Kitti giggled, then shared. “If I told you everything you would never have any surprises! Show your little slave girl how to catch these fish.”

I went below and selected two sturdy fishing rigs, and a tackle box filled with lures. I attached Mepps Black Fury Dressed Treble lures while exlaining to Kitti how to tie the strong knots in the monofilament line.

We cast out and began trolling slowly back down the lake. Kitti wanted to see what we were fishing for, so I pulled up pictures of large mouthed bass, striped bass, catfish, and perch on our computer.

“I will catch one of those, a big one.” She was pointing at the picture of a sriped bass when the drag on her reel sang out! I told her how to set the hook while reeling my line in out of her way and idling the engines.

We climbed down to the aft deck to give her room to leverage the fish from under the boat, while I got the net. I knew from the bow in the rod it was either a whopper large mouthed bass or a good striper.

The slab side of her fish flashed in the sun and I scooped it up. “It’s a striped bass, Kitti, and a good one! It should win the catch of the day contest at the marina.” I was very excited for her, but she seemed to be disappointed.

“This is the little one, Master, it beat a larger one to my lure. Please don’t be angry with me, I will do better next time!”

“My love,” I picked her up and kissed her. “I am proud of you! Let’s try for your big one again right now. I think I can replicate the course we were on.”

Kitti stayed on the lower deck as I checked our last course on our GPS system. I circled, then retraced our path, giving Kitti a thumbs up and blowing her a kiss for luck!

I was glued to the screens of our global positioning system, depth finder, and sonar when Katalin screamed! I whirled around in my seat and shut down both screws. I’d been prepared to dive into the lake after her, but Kitti had another fish on!

I was at her side within seconds with the net. She was more excited this time than last. She said, “I think this is the big one, Master!” She was right. When this one appeared at the surface I was stunned!

The net seemed too small for this fish. I had her steer it towards one of the amidships retrieval ports where I leaned down and locked a good right hand on its lower jaw. I swung it inboard as Kitti began screeching!

She was beaming from ear to ear! “That is the one I wanted, Master!”

She was spot on, this one could nearly have eaten the other! We danced around the small aft deck of the boat, then I asked if she wanted a soda or an alcohol beverage to celebrate. She opted for a soda.

I opened our drinks, then told her, “You are going to be a very popular young lady at the marina, my dear! Let’s show them the smaller one first.”

We laughed, hugged, and kissed all the way to the marina. We docked, then went to the weigh-in station. I lifted her first catch onto the scales. “See if this fish from her first ever cast will win the catch of the day.”

There was much ado made over it, then the marina manager declared it a very nice ten pound nine ounce fish. Kitti reached into our cooler and produced the other with a flourish and asked, “What about this fish from my second cast then?”

The cameras and telephones came out, and after several people had reweighed it, Kitti’s fish was just two pounds light of the lake record 31.5-pound striped bass!

They wanted pictures, of course, and the manager made certain Kitti’s bikini top figured prominently in each of them. I was asked for a boat name and looked to Kitti for approval. “I’ve never named her, is ‘Gypsy’ alright with you?” She showed me her ardent approval with a kiss.

The manager, Tom Harris, made us an offer on the big fish that sounded good to me. He’d save it for his taxidermist to pick up and mount. If Kitti would allow him to display it for ninety days with her picture, he’d then present it to her at a dinner presentation in her honor.

He also offered to have her smaller fish prepared for us at no charge immediately. Both offers sounded good to me. At Kitti’s nod I told him, “You have a deal, Tom. We’ll go freshen up and make our drink orders, if you have the time please join us for dinner. There should be plenty for three.”

Tom accepted graciously. We couldn’t buy good will like that anywhere at any price!

The Maitre D showed us to our table, then our waiter took our drink orders and the sides we wanted with our meals. My Kitti was filled with enthusiasm about everything that had happened to her that day!

When Tom arrived and sat down he was as effusive as Katalin, if not more so. “Katalin, we’ve never seen a newcomer make such a splash on the local scene, not even the tournament professionals!”

“Thank you, Tom,” Kitti observed, “but it is my Master’s expert boat handling made all the difference between a fail and a good show!”

I informed Kitti, “You, my dear Hungarian Gypsy, are now the new East Texas Piney Woods guru on where and how to fish for the lunkers! I’ll show you a picture of a large mouth bass tomorrow, then let you find a big one.”

Tom had to know the tale behind that and I told him about her planting her pretty finger squarely on a picture of a striped bass on our computer and telling me she’d catch a big one. That exact moment her reel had begun clicking!

Tom asked politely, “I hope you will excuse me if I overstep any lines. It’s more than obvious you two are a couple, but do you have any single sisters who like to fish?”

Those words livened up our conversation! Kitti immediately responded, after we’d stopped laughing.

“I am an orphan, Tom, but I’ve been considering bringing some close girlfriends here to show them Texas. They are all far more beautiful than I could ever be.”

Tom clutched at his heart, “Do that, Katalin, and I may even forgive Shawn for finding you before I did.”

Kitti giggled, then asked, “How do either of you know it wasn’t me who found Shawn? In any case,” She patted her belly, “Shawn Junior is on his way, and he will set new records on this lake!”

Tom congratulated both of us on the baby, and we thanked him. He asked if we’d like more drinks, and I told him only if we could leave the “Gypsy” moored where she was until morning. I wasn’t risking my kitti or the baby by piloting it to our home while drinking.

Tom laughed and told us we could consider that docking space one of the benefits of her now being the East Texas Piney Woods fishing guru!

Katalin told me she’d have to restrict herself to one or two glasses of wine each day now and in the immediate future. I’m sorry to say her baby’s daddy didn’t show that much good sense!

She set my course for the “Gypsy” after Tom and I exchanged farewell toasts. I remember her telling me if I were going to drink with a gypsy I’d have to learn to sing like one. She poured me onto the boat and into our bed and I was out like a light.

It was daylight outside when we heard someone knocking lightly on our bulkhead. Katalin was up and into her bikini in a very few seconds. She walked out onto the aft deck and cordially welcomed our visitor.

She recognized his heavy Louisiana Cajun accent and changed their discussion to French. I will have to loosely translate this.

The man introduced himself as Maurice Marcel, a local fishing guide. He said he’d been given a Mojo or Gris Gris bag to keep him prosperous by a kindly Creole woman he’d known since his childhood.

My Katalin broke down crying and took both his hands in hers. She extended her heartfelt condolences, then told me both his wife and benefactress had recently died in a tragic auto accident, leaving him and his mother to raise their five young children alone. His magic had also vanished in the crash.

Maurice was astonished she knew more details than he’d told her. He explained he’d heard she had powers with the fish, and had brought her a gift to see if she could help him with them.

He extended a warm plastic gallon bag of sausage, and explained it was Cajun boudin he’d made that morning. Kitti withdrew a link and handed it to me. She bit into another and I knew what we were eating for breakfast from the smile on her face and bit into my tasty link!

She asked Maurice, “Do you enjoy making your boudin, Maurice?” He confided, “Cooking Cajun foods is my greatest love other than my children and fishing!”

“Where do you rank making money, my friend?” Kitti asked him. “I know your growing children must eat and your fishing boat needs fuel. Can you produce thousands of pounds of this each week if your partner provides the money for a shop and handles the sales?”

Tears literally streamed down Maurice’s face as he looked at her as his saviour!

She told him, “You will find me an easy partner to deal with. Try adding some sage and a little paprika for color and flavor to your next batch. We gypsy have been … Well, I know the French excel in sausage making, too, but it is the French gypsys!”

She turned to me, “Master, please get dressed. We must go sell several hundred pounds of boudin to Tom Harris.

Maurice’s babies will need new shoes and clothes!”

Kitti pulled Maurice down to her level, then kissed him on his forehead. “You no longer need a Mojo or Gris Gris bag.” She told him, “You have been kissed by a gypsy woman.”

Katalin’s prophesies turned out almost as good as Moses, and she didn’t have to divide any seas, or turn staffs into snakes! Tom told them he would love to have a good source for quality boudin and they settled on a price.

We gave Maurice the card of my lawyers, then gave them the heads up on Kitti’s Visa status, and her aready being a partner in a business.

We went to the marina store and I looked until I found some H&H spinner baits with yellow and black skirts. I then found some of the options with two extra spinners that could be added crosswise to any lure.

Kitti asked what I was doing, and I shushed her until we walked outside. I told her then I’d once outfished a ten times better fisherman using one of the ghastly lures I was about to produce for her.

His only theory had been I’d scared away all the smart fish, and caught the suicidal ones. With the extra two spinners those lures flashed like an early Cadillac!

On the trip away from the marina I showed Kitti pictures of large mouth bass, and cautioned her I believed the new lake record was now 13 pounds.

Kitti didn’t seem too impressed. I also gave her my standard lecture to new anglers about “structure” and how important that was to any predator fish.

I was showing her the drop offs in the lake bottom below us, and where one creek met the old river bed, when she screamed, “There, Master, right there!”

I had her go to the aft deck of the vessel and release a few feet of line. I told her to swirl the lure a few times to feel the action, then lower it. Her third cast of her fishing career earned her a tarpon-like strike that almost came onto the boat with her!

I put both drives into neutral, idled the engines, and rushed down to help her. As rowdy as this bad boy was I had her lead him to the amidships retrieval port. She was getting good at this method and I was too. I swung her latest big fish onboard!

“Baby,” I told her, “This bass will weigh at least nine pounds, you are fantastic!”

Her only question was, “Can you put us back over that creek drop off into the river bed?”

I told her, “You betcha, sweet lady. Our estimated time of arrival is twenty minutes. You have just enough time to powder your nose, and kiss me!”

She took care of the kissing, then I went up and circled the “Gypsy”, while I spied on the boat that had been spying on us.

I figured it had to be one of the news agencies using a gyro stabilizer for their cameras. I’d seen no signs of weapons on their boat, so I hadn’t produced mine.

Kitti was back on the aft deck when I got the “Gypsy” into position. I gave her a nod and an okay signal. She dropped her lure in and I crossed my fingers for extra luck.

My instruments showed we were approaching the dropoff, then all hell broke loose! I looked back at Kitti and her rod was up, and bent almost double. I shut down both drives and again went below.

“Play him a bit, Babe. Pressure him enough to keep him off bottom, but let that fighter wear himself out!” She was learning how to finesse her fish and soon led it to me at the side of our boat. I was coaxing it, “Come to daddy!” My hand swooped, and I swung it onboard and unhooked it.

I rhymed, “If this bass doesn’t weigh eleven pounds I’ll kiss your pretty ass!” I kissed her ass anyway as she cackled at me. I asked her, “So how do you like East Texas fishing, Doll Face?”

She was elated, but gave me credit, “It’s all your doing, Master, the choice of lures and where we used them.”

“Okay,” I accepted that, “but you picked out the precise spots, and caught the fish. Let’s go show Tom we’re not ‘one trick ponies’, we can do this more than once!”

We were greeted at the marina by a freshly painted sign, saying simply “Reserved for Gypsy”. The painter was just finishing up, and I asked him, “Do you paint names on boat sides and sterns, too?”

He told me, yes he did, then wanted to know what color and size. I told him to ask the Gypsy, then refered him to Kitti. They confered for a few minutes, then I noticed there was a growing crowd of onlookers around us.

She finished her discussion, and I told her, “I think these folks are wondering if you’ve caught anything yet today.” She started toward our ice chest, but I insisted, “You’d better let Daddy carry that, Mommy.” Even a redneck like me knows there are some sensitive early times in a pregnancy.

We went to the marina weigh-in station and found even more curious people waiting.

As we’d done before, we put the fish on the scales in the order they were caught. Most of the fishermen in the crowd made admiring noises over the first nice bass. Tom said, “This one weighs 9 pounds and 11 ounces. A nice catch!”

Kitti told them, “That one was my third cast ever, this one was my fourth.”

She pulled the lunker out, and there was silence in the crowd, until someone in the back said, “There’s no way in hell. I’ve fished this lake all my life and never saw fish that size!”

A man to the right of him lifted his camera. “Think again, I have both catches on video, and they’ll be on the news this evening, if I can get her permission!”

“You have it, sir, and our thanks.” Kitti told him gratefully! I gave him one of my cards and asked that he send a copy to us.

Tom was weighing the big bass, and spoke above the crowd. “Eleven pounds three ounces, another lunker!”

Another fisherman in the crowd spoke up, “Let’s cowboy up and face it, Men, the little Lady is better at fishing than we are! Are you at least going to share the lures you used?”

I told them, “My Lady is a professional model, I thought we might contact the companies in question and allow them to bid on her services as a representative first.”

Most of them could easily understand that as a priority. They knew the pros were paid high dollar just for using company ball caps, shirts, and other free equipment.

Tom told us he would offer us the same deal on both bass with the taxidermist as he had before on the big striper.

Kitti jumped on the deal, and I asked Tom to e-mail pictures of Kitti and the fish to me as soon as he uploaded them.

Kitti mentioned we still had our deli foods on the boat, and she’d enjoy cold sandwiches for lunch. We did this in the pilothouse where we could listen to all the radio chatter from the other boats, most of it about her big fish.

I was hoping desperately she wouldn’t bring up the subject of what’s her name, oh yes, Stephanie! I placed my darlings plate and drink to one side for the moment, then hugged her to me as I laughed and cried!

“What did you do, you Crazy Man,” She asked, “win the lottery?”

“Much better than that, Gypsy Woman! I forgot the exes name for a blessed moment and it was all because of you. I adore you so much it hurts! When are you going to marry me, you are going to marry me, aren’t you?”

She had an answer for that, too. “Of course I am, Master. I saw us together with little Shawn nearly twenty years ago, when I borrowed and rocked another little girl’s dollie while she slept.”

This intricate girl was proving to be worth everything I had risked to have her, and so much more. I could only hope I could help make the long ago visions of that lonely abused child come true!

I called Tom Harris on my cell phone, walked out of the pilot house, and asked him, “Do you have anyone free to run an errand? Kitti never had her own baby doll in that orphanage, and I’ll give five hundred cash for the first one to appear on the Gypsy!”

Tom was literally aghast at such a thing. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes, Shawn, just hold her!” I went inside the pilothouse and did just that.

My darling was dozing when Tom rapped on a bulkhead. I went to him and tried to hand him a large roll of uncounted cash. He said, “No, excuse me? That pretty lady has brought me three times that in business!”

I shook his hand, and told him thank you, he said, “Go take care of her, Shawn.”

I sat in my pilot chair and gently pulled Katalin into my arms. She must have been exhausted physically and emotionally.

I handed her the pretty box that held her baby doll inside. She held it and cried for at least an hour, but I hoped they were tears of healing.

“So, what do you want to do to help the girls and boys there now? We can easily buy truckloads of toys and clothes and distribute them.”

“No. thank you, Master. It is my responsibility. I have made millions in my career, but most of that was misspent by my managers, though I do still get the residuals. Would you mind if I made one more photoshoot for the children before I show a baby bump?”

“Once more to go out on top shouldn’t hurt, I wouldn’t think, Kitti. Shawn Junior won’t be kicking or showing for weeks, will he? You’d better get a move on, though.”

“You might tie it in to the fishing thing if you can. The ‘Gypsy’ would be worth thousands per week as a location alone, and all of your macho fans would love it!”

“Oh! That’s a superb selling point, Master!” Kitti agreed, “We should be able to get some promos in for the boudin business and the marina here if that works out, too! I have the contact information online, if you’ll show me how to get there on this computer.”

Thirty minutes later she had her proposals sent off to the three magazines, and in an hour the phone started ringing for her. It rang all day long.

When the representatives from the lure companies called I asked if we could get back with them later, telling them we were currently in negotiations with three major magazines for photoshoots onboard our Textron MLB. I added we would offer the same to them for pictures or vids of Katalin fishing with their lures, if the price were right.

I gave them Tom’s number for a reference, and told them vids of Kitti would be on one of the Houston News Channels making her latest catches. They said they’d investigate, then call me back.

On Katalin’s end the magazine writers and producers were clamoring wanting to know what the hell a Textron Motor Lifeboat was.

I gave her access to the action pictures I’d pulled off the net, then the urls to some of the best clips online. We backed the boat off the dock for a few moments, and Tom took some pictures of the “Gypsy” to send them, complete with her new name painted on the sides. Kitti played hood ornament for these pictures on our foredeck in a bikini.

Maurice brought us by two quarts of gumbo he’d made, and said our lawyers were already looking over one nice shop location he’d found for sale. It was large enough for tables to serve Cajun foods, too. Katalin and I broke out bowls and spoons and attacked the delicious gumbo!

As we ate Kitti accessed her website and posted some of the incomparable pictures Aaron had sent us of her with her diamond collar, leash, and tiara. There would be thousands of her fans jealous of me before the day’s end!

She added the pictures of her with her fish and “Gypsy” and titled the page, “A Hungarian Gypsy Girl goes to Texas, Land of Big Fish and Billionaires!”

I had to laugh at her quick transition from starving little slave girl to the courtesan of a billionaire, but I understood she knew how best to present her changes in lifestyle to her many fans to retain their support.

After an online search I left Kitti long enough to buy a couple of food items from the marina store. I was mixing a large bowl of it when Kitti rushed to my side asking, “What is that, Master? It smells divine!”

“I’ll have it mixed in a moment, darling.” I told her, “I wanted a tasty and fun surprise to spoil you even more, and did a search to see if there were already a recipe for such a spread. It has Philadelphia Cream Cheese, butter, paprika, caraway seed, and green onion. Here are bagels for you to put it on.”

She grabbed the bowl and bagels and scurried to a defensive position in a corner at the head of the bed before even tasting it. When she did she let out a long sigh of contentment.

“Oh, that is so delicious, Master, and one more reason why I can’t live without you! What?” She’d just noticed the concerned look on my face.

“Oh, me protecting my bowl in a corner? It’s an ingrained habit from growing up around a hundred larger greedy children. Most psychiatrists say I was raised a feral child. Come here, I’ll share my treat with you!” She spooned some of her spread onto bagels for me.

I saw Kitti later licking the last of the spread off her finger like cake frosting. “Oh.” She smiled and said, “I am eating for two now. You wouldn’t want me to deprive our tiny son of a Hungarian treat, would you?”

Trying to be a good father and Master, I went back to the store for ingredients for more spread. I had an inkling she’d never be without it for long again. She asked me for the exact recipe then she added it to her website for her loyal fans.

Dave, my policeman friend called and his news threw a temporary wet blanket over our lives! He asked, “Shawn, are you free to talk?”

I knew he was refering to Katalin and moved out onto the back deck. “Yes, Dave, I am.”

“I did a check on Katalin’s manager and other than a few shady deals, he’s clean. Interpol says he’s never been KGB. She could have taken him, even if he had been.”

My head was reeling, but I asked him, “What do you mean by that, Dave?”

Dave responded, “I mean she allowed you to kidnap and chain her. Before her modeling career she was the officer in charge of martial arts training of a Hungarian Defense Force Reconnaissance Battalion. Don’t piss that little girl off, Shawn.”

“Oh shit, Dave! I’m in love with the girl and asked her to marry me!”

Dave laughed loudly, then shared, “If she feels the same about you, you’ll never need another bodyguard. Our Army intelligence says she was like a force of nature on the battlefields she’s been on with NATO. Have a nice day, Buddy.”

I told him, “Yeah, Dave, thanks for calling.”

Katalin knew immediately by the look on my face I was upset when I rejoined her. She rushed to me, kissed me and hugged me. She asked me, “What has made my Master unhappy?”

“Katalin.” I came near to breaking down in tears! “How much of our life together has been fiction? I know you allowed me to kidnap you, Baby. You weigh, what, a hundred and twenty pounds and our Army Intelligence calls you a ‘force of nature’ on the battlefield?'”

She wailed like a baby and clung to me. “Master!” She sobbed, “Please don’t be angry with me! It began as an adventure, you bought me a drink, and I followed you. You went through with your plan, then I fell in love with you and I couldn’t bear for you to take me back to the hotel! Everything else is true.”

What could I do, throw the love of my life out for misleading me on things that were mostly none of my damned business?

“Your Master is smarter than you think, my Darling Kitti. I wouldn’t trade you for all the wealth in the world, and thank you for not handing me my ass when I used the stun gun on you. Would you lie down with me a while? I want to hold you close.”

As I held my lover I thought of a humorous aspect of this I had to share with her. “If we’re ever confronted physically by tough guys I’ll just tell them, ‘You think you guys are tough? I’ll let the little woman take care of you!'”

That put a smile back on Kitti’s face. “Master, you wouldn’t? I suppose you would! That’s hilarious, you’re so funny!”

I had to reply to that! “Oh, you think so, do you? To see if you are are taking your Captain too lightly I have decided to hold a lactation inspection. All hands who are pregnant raise their tops, shirts, or blouses.”

That got her breasts exposed, and my mouth homed in on one. “Let down your milk for me, Kitti. I need your milk!” It was impossible for her body to do that yet, but it still made her hot! I went to a locker and found a metal biscuit pan.

“Get on your knees, slave.” I ordered her. “I’m going to milk you like a cow.”

I “hobbled” her wrists and ankles loosely with scarves, then entered her wet pussy from behind and reached for her nipples. I pulled on them alternately as I slammed into her hot pussy! “Psst, psst, psst, hear your milk hitting the pan? We’ll make creamy butter with this!”

Kitti screamed like a wild thing when she came, which brought me off, too. She fell across the pan, and I realized she’d passed out. Lifting her torso I set the pan to one side, then turned her to lay her head on my chest where I could look at her and kiss her. I fell asleep holding her.

When I woke after a nap I saw Kitti’s beautiful blue eyes watching me. “Sweetheart.” I told her, “Be thinking of what sort of engagement and wedding rings you’d prefer as well as cocktail rings, bracelets, ankle chains, or whatever. We have to prepare your trousseau for married life.”

“Remember, Aaron said we are his top customers now and will receive ‘generous discounts on our future purchases’, so everything you buy will save your Master money!”

Kitti laughed at me while kissing me crazily! “Your little slave sees the logic in that, Master, and will do her best to please you!”

“See that you do, slave.” I told her sternly, “It is one of your many duties to Master to be much more expensively dressed than my colleague’s arm candy.”

“Sigh!” Kitti swooned, “Your poor slave is so overworked!”

“None of that, lazy slave!” I growled, “I beat you everyday, as is my duty, and still you give me no milk for my coffee or butter for my toast?” Kitti began kissing my feet adoringly until she began tickling me and I begged her to stop!

“Your slave has decided, Master!” Kitti announced, “It is my duty to you to put my natural modesty aside and become the trophy wife you can be proud of at your club. I will wear your bling bling.”

“Oh.” I asked, “No more bashful wallflower like you were the last time we were there?” Kitti laughed, remembering kissing Stephanie in front of everyone, while wearing her new diamond collar, leash, and tiara.

“For our next visit, I will also wear the Indian bridal jewelry Hath Panja or Hathphool. I believe they call them slave bracelets here. None of the glass costume jewelry will do for your woman, though.”

“Mine will have the most beautiful of large precious rubys, emeralds, and sapphires set in gold, as will my arm bands. A man who can afford a million five for his fishing boat can afford to dress his slave lavishly.”

If Katalin was trying to get a rise out of me, she did, but maybe not as she had expected. “Very good, little slave.” I told her, “I’m glad you’re coming out of your reclusive shell and getting into the spirit of the trophy wife thing.”

I called Aaron, and told him it was alright for him to use Kitti’s pictures in his advertising, crediting her as Katalin Baschalde, the soon to be bride of Shawn McGregor, of McGregor Unlimited.

Aaron congratulated us both, then I told him she was shopping for some items for upcoming events, and handed her the phone.

The next morning the ten models of my new collection of classic Panerai watches arrived at the ‘Gypsy’ by overnight delivery.

I signed for them without thinking, they must be something Kitti had taken a liking to, then took them to her. She was just stirring but came alive When I told her something had been delivered.

She savagely ripped the package apart, then took all ten models out of the debris, box by box, and lined them up. “Oh Master.” She cried, “They’re beautiful, and I’m so glad I could buy the best wrist watches in the world for you to show you my love!”

I glanced at my faithful vintage Rolex on my wrist. It had seen me punctually to college classes, snow ski crashes, airplane smashes, drunken fraternity bashes, spring break splashes, and three car crashes. It was still valued at thirty times what I’d paid for it twenty years ago!

Not being stupid, I wrapped kitti tightly in my arms and thanked her with every iota of sincerity in my body! “Oh, my precious darling Kitti, what did I ever do without you? Thank you, I adore you so very much!”

We thankfully had some idle time that morning. I shared with her, “Kitti, I think you know now my love for you will outlast the pyramids. Would you care to share with me what you and the ex discussed at the club?”

She seemed somewhat surprised I had finally brought the subject up. She said, “Stephanie has realized the terrible mistake she made leaving you, Master. She wants to make amends and come back to you, in any capacity you will accept her.”

My mind was concentrating on staying calm, and not growling! I smiled, and calmly said, “So you agreed to act as her advocate? Did you notice she had this ‘revelation’ only after seeing you wearing the hundred thousand dollars in jewelry I bought for you? What’s in this for you, Babe?”

Katalin went to her knees at my feet. “My Master’s happiness is all that concerns me. I know you loved her very much and had tried your best to keep her with you.”

“Yes, Darling, I tried to. She refused me and left me for a man close to her grandfather’s age. His wealth attracted her, and she had no idea he’s one of my own employees.”

“So you have no interest in her?” Kitti asked.

I volleyed, “Let’s say I have no interest in adding another distraction from the loving woman I adore into my life. I don’t think she’d like the slave training I’d put her through, either. Imagine months of corrective ‘Sit! Stay!’ wearing only a leather dog collar and chain.”

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