CHAPTER 1

 

The sun scorched out of a cloudless blue sky to sparkle across the enticing blue sea, empty but for a merchant ship plodding on a serene course parallel to the Skeleton Coast, over a hundred miles distant. Dolphins surged towards the creamy wake of the ship, no doubt attracted by the metal beast on which they guessed a prospective audience of friendly humans would be lounging.

However, as they approached the vessel, they instinctively steered a wider birth around it. Their tuned senses picked up an aura of fear, hostility and abject misery both from the metal hull and also vibrations of terror from a tiny cage towed in its wake. The shouts and screams emanating faintly from within those sheer metal walls convinced the friendly mammals to continue their journey uninterrupted.

The Lebanese lowered his gun, the stupid creatures had now swum too far away for him to get a clear shot at them. Saleek was bored. He was stretched out on the recliner, resting the barrel on a gross belly overflowing from his shorts, idly sighting on the rounded curves of the delicious blonde girl vigorously scrubbing the deck on hands and knees. The movement of her small hand holding the large wooden brush made her breasts quiver delightfully. The enticing, oyster-like lips of her sex pouted as she obeyed his command to keep her bottom uplifted and thighs wide as she worked. Her naked body shone with sweat, her hair plastered to her perspiring face as she continued her slow progress over the wooden boards under the sun's merciless heat. The flexing globes of her pert buttocks were perfect, apart from the thin red lines which he had inflicted across it - deciding that she needed encouragement to work harder at her chores.

He fleetingly tried to imagine the English girl's feelings. She was exceeding beautiful and sophisticated and had been toiling continuously for over two hours in the sun simply because his niece, Fatima, a fiery teenage girl, had decided so. The tousle-haired blonde had been told by her that she would be punished if the fore-deck wasn't shining by the time she finished napping and came to inspect it. Still, although the English beauty was a fashion model, she was not entirely unused to such treatment. He had trained her personally in Sheik Macom's harem, since when she had been at the mercy of other harsh regimes in England and an Amazon prison camp. She had subsequently been a police agent, arresting many of those who had tortured her.

Now she was simply a slave again, sweating her guts out at the bidding of a girl ten years her junior. The blonde's arm was slowing now and although her hair shielded her face, he heard her rasping breath and guessed she must be exhausted. Time to give her a little break and for him to amuse himself. If she didn't finish before Fatima inspected, it wouldn't be his problem.

In the distance he heard the shouted commands in broken English, of an exercise class. Must keep the girls in trim, he thought smugly. From around a corner of the deck he could hear their straining gasps and grunts and the sound of slaps against flesh. Occasionally their glistening bodies were visible; hair matted over red straining faces, but he felt too lazy to wander over to watch. Another woman, dark haired, older than the blonde, but just as pretty, scrubbed another part of the deck close by, also on hands on knees. Her upthrust bottom quivered with her vigorous movements. He decided that one of them could have a break from her labours and give him a drink - no reason why he should get up. Tossing a coin, he selected the blonde.

"Another drink, girl," he demanded.

Rosemary struggled to her feet, wondering if she could complete her task before the bitch returned - but knowing she had to obey the beastly Arab. His piggy eyes devoured her supple body as she arched her aching back to relief the awful strain of her labours, then made the obligatory curtsey before bending to retrieve his glass.

"Aahh!" the yelp was torn from her as he spitefully pinched her curving bottom.

It was another world in the shade of the ship's bar, reminding her cruelly of a life before this hell - cocktails and expensive restaurants. Now she was hot, exhausted and thirsty. The tinkling array of glasses was a temptation but the Spanish cabin-boy watched her carefully, making her long to cover herself from his hot young eyes. However, that wasn't permitted. She also knew the punishment for helping herself, or even asking for a drink, having to be content with licking the condensation from the ice-filled glass as she added vodka. The boy stopped tidying the drinks cabinet, also ceasing to fondle the bouncing, pendulous breasts of a pretty teenager earnestly polishing the room's brass fittings.

"You do good, bambino," he murmured encouragement to the youngster, his fingers brushing back her long dark hair from her tense, perspiring face, tracing a line down her spine. "You keep working hard, no go on report, eh?"

"Oh n-no, Sir," the girl affirmed anxiously in an American Mid-Western accent.

"You taking care of nice Mr Saleek?" he now addressed Rosemary, wandering over to her.

"Yes, Sir," bitter, low-voiced venom lurked just beneath her servility. The obese slob reminded her somewhat of the fat villain from the film 'Casablanca.'

"You take good care of him, yes," he sniggered, "I guess what he like." He took the opportunity to brush his hot bulge against her bottom and thigh, groping her breasts as she mixed the drink. "No sneaking any yourself, or this get plenty hot, yes?" he patted the flinching bottom of the sophisticated Western woman with complete familiarity. Hurriedly, she scurried back to the fat Arab, needing to finish her back-breaking work to escape more pain.

"A little kiss for an old man before you go."

Rosemary allowed Saleek to pull her down onto his lap, shuddering as he cupped her juddering breasts, his fleshy lips devouring hers. She jumped as his podgy hand slid up her thigh, fingertips brushing the curly mound of her pubis.

"Please-please Sir, your n ... Miss Fatima, told me I must finish the deck," she implored.

"Well, she'll have to wait a moment, won't she?" he leaned towards her conspiratorially. "You play with my friend - our little secret, eh?"

Revulsion at her task and frustration that she was wasting time vied for supremacy as she extracted his growing length. Following his grunted orders she stroked it before leaning over to take its pulsing length into her lips.

As the hot warmth of her pink mouth enveloped him, he stroked the tips of her breasts to a rubbery hardness. He decided that this was one of the best cruises he had ever been on. Her blonde head bobbed up and down, tongue darting, sucking his essence. She had been taught well in the harem, he thought. Gripping her breasts more tightly to make her moan, he grunted as he jetted down her throat. She grimaced as she swallowed his seed.

CHAPTER 2

 

Rosemary knew that it was the worst cruise that she had ever been on. She had been beaten early that morning because her friend, Lindsey, hadn't grovelled sufficiently to the young Arab overseer. Then there had been morning exercises and now the back-breaking task of scrubbing and polishing the deck, especially the stains where the beatings took place. She now knelt upright before Fatima's slim figure, her hands clasped to her neck in the required manner.

"You lazy cow, too fucking idle to complete your duties on time, are you?" the girl sneered.

"No, Miss, it - I, I had to ... " she looked imploringly at Saleek's smirking features, knowing she would be further punished by him if she told anyone what he had done.

"Silence, bitch!" Fatima interrupted, her dark eyes flashing cruelly. "There are no excuses for failure. I've no doubt you've been taking it easy, flirting with my uncle, flashing these around," her foot painfully jabbed Rosemary's upthrust breasts, "but now you pay the price. Punishment parade tonight for you, bitch."

Rosemary's shoulder's slumped in bitter defeat. Was there no justice, no escape? The sound of a slap, followed by a scream, from elsewhere in the ship confirmed that there wasn't - not here. She sought a temporary sanctuary in recollection.

Lindsey and she had escaped from the Sisters of Freedom only to be immediately consigned, by her own husband and his mistress, to this servitude. Although her infidelity with her lover, Michael, had instigated her plight, she had no regrets. She desperately wanted him, wanted him as a man - and for him to rescue her. She would hate her husband, Donald, forever.

This was her third day on board, her first morning of duties. Amongst the many girls on board were several familiar faces from her previous ordeals and adventures. Donald had lured them from her past to share the misery of her present - a slave girls' reunion!

Rosemary bitterly recalled recovering consciousness on her arrival, after being shipped by crate from her home. Brutally hung by the wrists, the agonising pull practically tore her arms from her sockets, jolting her back to full awareness. The tips of her bare toes struggled on the metal floor of the cabin, supporting her weight. She had felt the throbbing motion of the ship around her.

Smirking, Donald sat sipping wine in the background. His mistress, Maureen, the policewoman who had run the terrible Sisters of Freedom organisation in England, walked slowly around her, black high heeled boots clicking on the floor. Rosemary's nudity flinched vulnerably with every flick of the evil cat o'-nine-tails whip she brandished. The sponge in her bulging mouth, secured with black tape, prevented her from protesting or pleading, but her eyes were fixed on Maureen's as the dominatrix spoke. Rosemary concentrated on the bitch's words, also on the more practical matter of supporting herself just on aching toes.

"This will be the first and last time your 'husband' and I spare the time to deal with you personally, we have better things to do. He is your supreme Master, I am your Mistress. If you speak without permission you will be thrashed and your tongue cut out. That is not a threat," Maureen glared at her rapidly blinking victim. Trying to imagine the pull on her stretched body, she abstractly ran her hands over the corded muscles in the blonde's straining arms, basking in her present pain, knowing worse was to come.

"We are far above your lowly station, poppet," she continued, "You will be under the control of our staff, supervisors and ship's crew, who have full authority over you. You will not question them, or your reason for being here - just worry perhaps," she smiled cruelly into Rosemary's wide green eyes, gently brushing back a lock of blonde hair which had fallen across them. "I will now give you a sound thrashing for all of the difficulties you caused me back in England, then we'll put that behind us and plan your future - or lack of it. Right now though, we are going on a journey together you and I, a journey of pain, to explore and share your limits."

Rosemary was in a turmoil of fear and rage as the large leather-clad brunette slowly raised her whip-hand. She shook her head desperately, despite knowing that the smirking bitch would do it anyway and that Donald would enjoy every minute of her suffering. This was also about bitchiness and jealousy between two women and one man. Now one woman had the other totally at her mercy with limitless license to indulge her cruelties.

Desperately she turned on aching toes to avoid those thongs blasting her breasts. Her shoulders and buttocks, the alternative target she had presented, flexed in dread. It was scarcely any better. Her arm muscles strained impotently in a useless attempt to tear herself free from the unyielding bonds.

"Gurggghhhh!" she screeched through the sponge, biting down as the seemingly red hot cords blasted deep into the sheen of fear on her curving back. Every thong seemed to cut deep into her. She couldn't bear being hit there again and twirled around to shield her burning back. Before shutting her wet eyes she saw Donald smiling pleasantly, winking at her as Maureen drew back her arm again.

"This might hurt a bit, sweetheart," he chuckled, "take a deep breath and take your medicine like a good girl."

Rage exploded through her. She opened her eyes, glaring at the man she hated more than anything else, but was distracted by Maureen winking as the awful thongs descending on her jutting breasts.

"Aaaaaarghhhhh!"

Pain took possession of her body like termites in a tree. Her neck strained back, sinews stretched to burst, eyes screwed tight shut again as slivers of agony burrowed deep into every crevice of her body, seeking her soul, finding it.

Indeed, she would have sold her soul at that moment if it would prevent more pain. Head flopping forward, her eyes blinked back tears and the hair plastered to her face. Her flesh had numerous angry red stripes of pain running over it, her breasts feeling like two lumps of raw meat.

"Can you see all right, poppet? Let me help." Like a concerned mother, the monstrous woman smoothed back the damp hair. "Be a brave girl. This is a cleansing to make you a better person, yes?" she smiled brightly into the pain-etched face.

"Peeeze," was all Rosemary could gasp through the gag. "Peeeeeeeez," she tried again as the strong arm again drew back, looking hopelessly at Donald for mercy.

However, Donald's main emotion was satisfaction. Firstly at the suffering of the woman who he had once lavished so much on - and even suffered alongside - but who had cheated on him. Secondly, desire at the sheer beauty of her body, hardly diminished by the angry red stripes. He knew she would take more, but that the healing balm applied overnight would have her looking good as new by morning. As he refilled his glass, the whip descended, wetly, several more times across her flesh, like flails across a drum in the confined space. Each stroke was punctuated by sobbing howls of pain. He smiled cruelly. Most of her body was now laced in red as if her veins were on view, every tendon standing out in stark relief, eyes bulging in dread. Dancing round again in a never-ending circle of pain, the delicious buttocks contracted with every cruel crack of the whip as Maureen teased.

Crack!

The hanging body jerked, shoulders flexing, but it was another feint, the thongs simply trailing over the ravished skin.

Crack!

"Gaaarghhhh!"

That was for real, spinning her like a top, head thrown back in a rictus of agony. Gradually Rosemary's jive of pain slowed, head slumping. Spatters of blood and sweat pooled at her straining toes. Maureen placed a hand under her chin, lifting the beautiful, pain-etched, face.

"Can I rely on you to remember your status? You will get this and more, if you step one pretty toe out of line." Desperately, the blonde head nodded. "Good, nearly there then, poppet."

Rosemary sagged, then steeled herself for more as the arm drew back. Mesmerised, she saw it in slow motion, arcing down. She turned slightly to take the full brunt across her shining thighs, the tips curling to bite cruelly into her soft inner skin.

"Yaaarggghhhh!" Rosemary's head slumped again as if her already lacerated body was being eaten by razor-like teeth. She knew she would do or say anything now or in the future to avoid this pain. It was as bad as anything in her previous ordeals. She vaguely wondered whether her friend, Lindsey, kidnapped with her, would suffer like this? Her pain-racked mind took refuge in thoughts of anything but the present, sliding towards oblivion until the demon held smelling salts under her nose.

"Big brave girl, one more, then we're done, I think," crooned Maureen. "Take a deep breath, poppet, let's get it over with ... Oh, naughty, naughty girl, " she changed tone, glaring at Rosemary's shamed face and the puddle at her feet. "I cannot take you anywhere, can I? Well, that's an extra one then."

Pain, shame and exhaustion all merged. Rosemary was only vaguely aware of the last blast of leather cutting across her raw flesh before diving headfirst into the dark welcoming abyss which had awaited her.