“How would you like to sail around the Caribbean for three months this summer?”  Monique hoped that they would say yes, this might be the last chance for them to be altogether.  Jessica would start her freshman year at Vassar.  Madison was in her junior year and barely came home for holidays anymore.  She had all her friends in Connecticut, now that she attended Yale University.

Bill sat on the couch next to Monique.  She had her heart set on this family vacation.  The last one, she said, saddened that their daughters were becoming too old and independent to want to spend time with them.  He owned his own company, very successful and that allowed him to take three months off for this trip.  The trip would be set when he paid the deposit to get the yacht that would give them a life of luxury on the sea, the Angela Lee.  He would take a short course in navigation and seamanship, but he had many boats before, though none as big as this.  He had no doubt of his ability to do it.  They had planned to cruise down the east coast to Florida, and then, they would explore the Caribbean Islands.  If they had enough time, maybe head for Venezuela.

Bill looked at his family and knew he was blessed. His wife was still gorgeous and sexy at the young age of forty.  Monique and the two girls all had honey-blonde hair.  Jessica wore her hair shorter, but Madison’s golden tresses hung down to her waist.  Jessica looked like Monique twenty years ago, bright smile, inquisitive blue eyes and a flawless complexion.  She was filling out to be the woman her mother was.

Madison took after Bill.  She was slightly arrogant, could be bitchy when things didn’t go her way, but she could also charm any man with her smile.  She was popular, especially with the boys, but Bill never pried.  He didn’t want to know.  She loved her hair and refused to cut it, even though it seemed out of style now.  She had the figure of a grown woman, a fact that Bill refused to acknowledge.  They were both growing up, and after college, they wouldn’t be coming home.  They would go out into the world and make their mark.  He hoped they would find nice men to make them happy as Bill tried to do all these years with Monique.

“For three months, floating out in the ocean with no one else?”  Madison was sure that she could find something more exciting than that.

“We’ll be stopping at all the islands and spend time in the resorts and towns.  I’m sure that you girls can find something to do without us, as long as you’re careful.”  Monique knew that Madison would be the one she had to convince.

“I think it sounds exciting.  Travelling to all those exotic ports and the weather will be beautiful.”  Vassar in upstate New York would be cold during the winter, so Jessica would enjoy it while she could.  It would be nice to show up for classes on the first day with a dynamite tan.

Madison hated to agree, but she knew her mother was adamant.  She would somehow make it work.  She was sure that when the boys saw her in her new bikini, she would have no trouble in the resorts and towns.  Her mother let her have her freedom, but she hoped that she wouldn’t have to drag her little sister with her everywhere.  As much as she loved her, at their age, the three years made a big difference.  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Monique beamed.  “I’ll make it the best vacation ever.  It’ll be memorable, trust me.”  Those words would become so true, more than she could have imagined.  Their fates was about to meet up with the sinister fate of a ruthless man.

* * * *

Monique couldn’t be happier than she was now.  It had been almost two months with her family on the ocean.  It took a while to get used to living in such a confined space, but the yacht was still large enough that they all had their own bedrooms.  They had stopped in many ports of call, staying in hotels and resorts.  The girls were happy and Bill proved to be a remarkable skipper.  They were getting ready to turn around and head back up the eastern seaboard of the United States, but they decided to spend a few days and head out toward Venezuela.  They headed for Grenada on a lovely, warm, sunny day.

It was so nice when they got far out to sea and you couldn’t see any land along the horizon.  It was as though they were the only people left in the world, so peaceful and tranquil.  Bill set the anchor and sat on the deck with everyone else.  All three of his women laid out in bikini’s that left little to the imagination.  They had a nice lunch and it was later in the afternoon when he saw some clouds in the horizon where they were heading.  He had checked the weather report before leaving Grenada and didn’t see anything but some minor disturbances, but far out in the ocean, the weather could change in a moment’s notice.  He got up and went to the cabin.  He pulled up the anchor and took the steering wheel.  He checked the weather report again; a squall was about forty miles off.  It was too late to turn back and it still didn’t look bad.  They would only catch the very edge of it.  The yacht was large and he didn’t expect any trouble.

“Everything okay, Bill?”  Monique saw him take the wheel.

“Just a little storm coming up.  We’ll probably miss it, but we might get a bit of the rain.  Nothing to worry about; we’ll head to Caracas instead of Port of Spain.”  He tried to calm her fears.

The darkness approached faster than usual.  The sun was blotted out by the dark clouds and the sea began to grow choppy.

“Are we okay, Dad?”  Madison grew nervous.  They had been lucky for the last two months, always having good weather.  She hoped their luck didn’t run out.

“Yes, but we need to be prepared.  Make sure the life jackets are out and also the lifeboat.  Find the flare gun.”  He saw her become worried.  “It’s just a precaution, just like we do when there is a hurricane approaching at home.  We’ll be fine.”

The waves began to crash onto the bow of the boat as it churned in the water.  The wind picked up, and it began to rain, first lightly, but then it was harder.  The girls went below, but Monique stayed at his side.  The fog began to thicken as Bill cut the speed to a crawl, but even without the engine pushing the boat, the waves propelled it forward. * * * *

Less than twenty miles from where Bill and his family were fighting the growing storm in the Angela Lee, Michael was interrupted.

It was high on the atoll, a mile from the beach, but to get to it was up a winding path in the jungle that was perilous and difficult, even for an experienced and fit person.  At the end of the path, there was a lush valley, overgrown with primitive flowers and exotic bushes.  In the center of it, out of place in such a desolate location, stood a rambling one-story, white building that spanned a city block.  It wasn’t a crude wooden building but was made of polished stone.  There were three other small cottages.  Two of them housed electronic equipment that was highly developed for a modern city, never mind being on a small island.

The island and its buildings were the project of a determined genius that turned his back on society.  He had made his money at a young age but struggled to keep it.  Many tried to take it from him, legally or illegally.  Five years ago, he gave up on society.  He bought a tramp steamer in the Philippines and used it to transport workers and materials to build his palace in the middle of nowhere.  He had a vision that few would understand, but over the years while completing his project, he met many wealthy men and women.  These were people that had such vast amounts of money that society could not cage their desires, beyond the law; they sought out enforced servitude on the unfortunates and committed the most heinous perversions on their helpless prey. 

Michael sold them on his plan for Slave Island.

There would only be Masters or Mistresses and slaves.  He was just beginning to acquire the requisite slaves to serve the Masters.  That is why the electronic equipment was so important.  The atoll wasn’t on any maps and the electronic equipment wreaked havoc on any equipment that tried to find it.  Off the shipping paths, few would draw close to it unless Michael wanted them.  The atoll was shrouded in fog most of the day and night, hiding the sharp rocks that littered the only beach.  His electronic equipment could draw in any unlucky sailor that followed their compass blindly.  Radio transmissions were turned to static and garble. Once in his grasp, their boats never made it to the beach.  The rocks and heavy surf turned them into splinters of wood and fiberglass.  The only unknown was if any of the passengers could survive.

Michael just turned fifty years old.  He was six feet, thin but muscular.  His brown hair turned to graying over the years, but it was still abundant.  His eyes were dark blue, almost black, cold and foreboding.  His smile could charm any woman, but he rarely did. 

His lips turned more to the snarl of a sadist.

“Sir, a boat approaches.  The Angela Lee.  A lovely 75-foot Azimut.”  Cedric had run over from the electronic hut, out of breath but excited at the prospect.

“Is the storm picking up?”  He hoped that he might find the first captives for Slave Island.

“Yes, Sir.  The Angela Lee’s heading away from us, but I can draw her in.”  Cedric wanted to prove that he was invaluable.  He didn’t have the money that others would pay for the pleasures on the island, but he hoped that Michael would reward him with some of the more delectable creatures that he would capture.

“Yes, get the crew ready for visitors.  I hope we’ll get a good catch.”  His cock hardened at the thought.  The storm season was upon them, and he hoped for good luck and bad weather.