SHARKBAIT #52
Our first day of the expedition was over, and we’d had a great start. The weather was perfect for our work. The last of the six Great Whites had been tagged an hour before sundown, and we pulled the remaining barrels out of the water. We stowed the gear and cleaned up, smiles on all our faces after a busy day. Erik was thrilled with the video we had taken, especially of the seventeen-foot, four-inch female. This giant of a fish weighed about 3, 500 pounds and was the second-largest Great White ever to be fitted with a satellite tag. Doc Holliday was looking forward to data on such a big shark. Size mattered, and the big girls had different habits and diets than smaller Great Whites had.
I’d gotten quite wet during the day, so I’d taken a quick shower then changed into shorts and a T-shirt. Chef Boyar was making burritos to order, and I was starving. Mine had chunks of steak and chicken, along with rice, red beans, salsa, cheese, and sour cream. Taking the plate and a big glass of milk, I walked over to a place next to Sally. “Did you have fun today,” she asked.
“Are you kidding me? Today was a dream come true,” I replied. “I don’t ever want to leave.”Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.
“I know what you mean,” she said. “This is the fun part compared to spending time crunching numbers and writing papers.” Theresa, Kyle, Chip, and Dale filled the rest of the table. All of them were graduate students and were in the place I wanted to be in eight more years.
I found out what their lives were like, and they quizzed me on my sudden fame and my modeling career. “I never thought I’d be getting paid to wear a wetsuit,” I said as I rolled my eyes. “My Mom was right; I had my fifteen minutes of fame, and I used that to launch my shark-tagging drive. When Bodyglove saw me doing that, they asked me to model for them. I never expected it to be like this; I was hoping to get some free clothes and a diving trip!” The rest of the table laughed at this. “It just kept building, so I’m riding the current as far as it can take me. College isn’t cheap, you know.”
Chip just about spit out his Coke at this. “You’re not fucking kidding, Vicki. Research science doesn’t pay back a hundred and fifty grand in student loans.”
“Exactly. I’m making money while I can, all in pursuit of my dreams.”
One of the camera guys came in and waved to me. “Erik wants you up on the bridge in ten minutes, something about filming some background scenes,” he said.
“Got it. I better get dessert then.” I collected the empty plates from the table and put them in the racks before I grabbed some desserts for the table. It was apple pie with French vanilla ice cream. I handed out the extras before diving in, moaning in pleasure at the taste. This Boyar chick could cook.
“I’ve never heard of a model eating like you,” Dale teased. “They have one shrimp, and they are full.”
I just laughed at that. “I was a swimmer and diver before I was a model, and I’m still that way,” I said. “I’ve always had a big appetite and high metabolism.”
“You did good today, kid. Not bad for a Sharkbaby,” Chip said.
“Sharkbabe is what they call me online now. My nickname growing up was Sharkbait,” I said. I finished the last of the pie and stood up. “I better get going.”
Brian, the grad student who wasn’t as welcoming, stood up as I did. “Better run along, Shark Barbie. I’m sure they need your tits up on the bridge,” he said.
I froze, my head slowly turning to look at him. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come on, people,” he said as the room quieted. “Let’s not kid ourselves about what is going on with Shark Barbie, the high school graduate and documentary headliner. Is she here because of her vast experience in shark biology?” He let that sit out there as I fumed. “Is she here because she brings vital knowledge on shark behavior?”
“Don’t be an asshole, Brian,” Sally said.
“Don’t be ignorant, Sally. You and I are working this expedition for free as part of our graduate work, and Discovery Channel is only paying us a hundred and fifty dollars a day to be in their show. Shark Barbie is only qualified to show off her boobs in a bikini and get her t-shirt wet, and she’s getting paid fifty grand! Where is the fairness in that?”
Brian had moved between me and the door, and I didn’t like where this was going. “Step aside, Brian.”
“Why? Are you going to cry, little girl? Or maybe you banged the producer to get this job, and he wants another taste?” I didn’t want to get in a fight on my first day onboard. Brian was pushing my buttons, though. “You don’t belong here. You’re in the way, and you’re taking dive time away from people who are doing real research. Just because the producer wants to showcase your body for ratings doesn’t mean we have to go along with it. Perky tits and a firm ass don’t make you an expert,” he sneered.
“For a graduate student at a research institution, you have no idea of how things work, do you?” He blocked my way, so I continued. “These tits cradled three children as I saved them from drowning. THESE TITS got me national exposure that I used to unveil a shark tagging project in cooperation with the World Wildlife Federation and the University of Miami. THESE TITS helped raise over five million dollars for shark research through our website and personal appearances. THESE TITS got me into boardrooms and dinner parties where I could meet donors. And yes, THESE TITS are part of the reason I’m here. Discovery isn’t here because they want to help your research. They are here because they are filming a show that will bring them big ratings, and pay for their expenses many times over with advertising revenue. I did one earlier this year, and they liked how it turned out. The producer hired me for a bigger role this time because I bring value to his work. It’s a business, Brian. To have a highly-rated show, they want a show host that people will tune in to see.” He didn’t look convinced, and the rest of the room was watching with their mouths hanging open. “Research doesn’t happen without fundraising. Part of fundraising is having people that donors want to meet! Without that, there IS no expedition! So unless your face and abs can carry the show, and I’m pretty sure they can’t, shut the hell up and do your job.”
“You’re such a blonde; you know NOTHING,” Brian said.
“I know if you don’t step out of my way, you’re going to have trouble moving in the morning. I have work to do.” I didn’t have time to deal with his crap.
Of course, he couldn’t just step aside. Instead, he reached out and squeezed my tits with both hands. “They don’t feel like they are worth fifty grand,” he said with a leer. “Maybe fifty bucks.”
That was it. I closed the gap, bending my knees as I grasped Brian around the waist and lifted his weight off his feet. Pushing my shoulder forward as my arms pulled back, I slammed his body to the deck. His breath rushed out of him as my shoulder drove into his solar plexus, and I brought my knee up hard to crunch his nuts. He couldn’t even take a breath to scream out his pain.
I wasn’t done with him yet.
I took the top position, moving up as he tried to roll out to his right side. I got my left arm behind his head to keep it tight to me and keep him from rolling me with his greater size. I put my right arm around his left arm and across his chest until I could grasp my left arm above the elbow. The hold controlled his arms, one underneath us, the other trapped by my arm, and kept his head pinned to my side. He was still struggling and kicking out, so I finished him by moving my left arm up his back and rolling until my left shoulder was on the deck, letting my body weight apply pressure to his neck. My chokehold compressed the artery on the side of his head that went to his brain. “Tap out,” I told him.