Our Story thus Far………….
Our scene, an island somewhere in the Caribbean. It is the site of a very secret
establishment known to its ultra-wealthy clients as “The Club on Dorado Cay.”
Our heroines, Alyx, a sometime student just turning 20, and Kris, a rejected wife in
her early thirties, had been abducted and sold to the Club, there to become the sexual
playthings of sadistic masters and mistresses.
After several months on the island another of the captive women, Cassandra, devises a
plan to escape. There’s a yacht anchored in the lagoon. Cassandra has learned that it’s
been fueled and prepared for departure in the morning. The owner is staying ashore for the
night.
Late that night Cassandra, Kris and Alyx break out of the Slave Quarters. They make
their way to the lagoon and swim out to the yacht. Unfortunately for them, the owner and
his trophy wife had decided to stay aboard that night. At gunpoint he forces the women to
strip and then leaves them bound on the deck for the night. In the morning they will be
turned over and have to pay the penalty for their failed escape attempt.
Chapter 1
Morning
Dawn was a long time coming for Kris, Alyx and Cassandra. Tied as they were, sitting
with their backs to stanchions, legs spread wide, sleep was impossible. The deck grew ever
harder to their naked bottoms, their arms and legs soon began to cramp. They were all
grateful when the sky lightened and they heard the sounds of movement in the cabin.
Finally the door to the cabin opened and Mr. Binkman came out, carrying a cup of
coffee in one hand and his pistol in the other. The trophy wife followed him. She was much
younger than Mr. Binkman, blonde from a bottle and with a bust that Kris cattily thought
must be considerably greater than her IQ. She was dressed in one of the skimpiest bikinis
Kris had ever seen.
“Well, girls,” Mr. Binkman said with a smirk as he looked over his captives, “you’ll
be happy to know I’ve notified the staff about your little escapade. They’ll send someone
out to collect you in a bit. I told them not to hurry. I’ve some plans for you.”
Binkman took a sip of his coffee, then stepped closer, to inspect his naked, bound
captives. As he did his nose started to twitch and then he looked around, sniffing in an
exaggerated manner like a cartoon character.
During the night all three women had succumbed to the need to relieve their bladders
and being firmly tied in place had done what had to be done. Binkman saw the stains on the
teak deck fanning out from each of the women. He put his coffee down on the railing and
went to a locker at the back of the cabin. He returned reeling out a hose.
“Melissa, m’dear,” he said to the trophy wife, “would you mind turning on the pump?”
Melissa went to the wheelhouse. A moment later, somewhere below decks, a motor could
be heard turning.
“Piss on my deck, will ya?” Binkman said. “Well, it’s bath time ladies.”
He turned the hose on each woman in turn, aiming mostly at their pussies. The water
was uncomfortably cool and the jet was painfully strong. He laughed coarsely at their
futile efforts to escape the pounding stream by twisting and wriggling.
When he was finished he ordered Melissa the trophy wife to start untying them. She
started with Kris. When she was free she was helped to her feet and then allowed a few
moments to stretch and get the kinks out. Then Binkman and Melissa made her stand with her
back to one of the posts that supported the canopy over the deck. Her arms were tied
behind the post.
The Binkmans then did the same for Alyx and Cassandra. When all three women were tied
to posts Binkman asked Melissa to freshen up his coffee. She took the cup below and
returned moments later. She handed it to him.
“Ah, yes,” he said, stepping in front of Kris, “a good strong, hot cup of coffee. I
always say the hotter the better, don’t you?” He pressed the cup against one of Kris’
nipples. It was definitely hot, far too hot to drink. She winced and tried to pull away.
Binkman responded by moving the cup to the other nipple. Then he moved on to Alyx.
“You like coffee, too?” he asked mockingly as he applied the cup.
“No,” she replied.
“Sure? Try it again,” Binkman said, moving to her other nipple.
He stepped back and took a sip, then looked at the deck, already drying out. The pee
stains were still obvious.
“Ya know just hosing down the deck isn’t going to keep that piss from staining it,”
he said. “Those’re gonna have to be scrubbed. And I ain’t doing it.” He looked straight at
Cassandra. “You look able bodied, missy.” He turned to Melissa. “Bring a scrub brush and
untie this one.”
Melissa went below decks again and returned with a large scrub brush. She dropped it
on the deck at Cassandra’s feet and then untied her.
“On your hands and knees and start scrubbing,” Binkman ordered. “Melissa, why don’t
you help her by manning the hose. And I thought I told you to get down.” He glared at
Cassandra, who’d been slow to obey.
Cassandra went down on her hands and knees. She picked up the scrub brush and started
scrubbing. Being naked and busty, her large breasts hung down and jiggled lewdly as she
scrubbed. Not only that but the position exposed her sex, which Melissa took little time
in exploiting, alternating between hosing the deck and aiming the stream at Cassandra’s
slit and anus. When Cassandra would move to protect her bottom Melissa shifted the stream
to her dangling breasts.
When Cassandra had finished scrubbing Binkman ordered her to stand with her back to
the post again. Melissa then tied her wrists behind her back, around the post. She came
back to stand next to her husband, who put the pistol in his pocket. She snuggled up
against him, a vicious little smirk on her face.
“Yep,” Binkman said, gloating, “y’all are gonna get a public punishment for this
stunt. Gonna have to adjust my schedule so’s I can make it down here. Whaddaya think it
should be, m’love?”
“Oh, I think something really, really nasty, dear,” the petite dyed blonde said.
“How about this for a starter,” Binkman said as he slipped behind her, placing an arm
around her waist. His free hand was slipping under the waistband of her bikini bottom,
under the tiny patch of cloth covering her mound. “Tie them on the beach, spread eagle
style. Then smear bacon grease on their nipples and pussies.” He had his hand all the way
into her bottom now and was massaging her. “Then we let the crabs nibble away at them.
What do you think it feels like to have a crab pinching your clitty?”
“I don’t know,” she purred, “but I’ll bet it really, really hurts. Do you think a
crab could actually bite it off?”
She was reaching behind her now, obviously stroking him.
“I don’t know. A big one might be able to. Them little fellers would probably just
keep tugging and nipping away at it.”
“And could a crab get up on them to get at their nipples. Especially Miss Boobies
with those big melons. That’s a long way for a little crab to climb, dear.”
“Well, I suppose we could let the crabs have their clittys and let the seagulls have
their nips. Wouldn’t that be fun? Watching the seagulls grab their nips in their beaks and
pull on them? How far d’you think a seagull could stretch a nipple? Two, three inches
maybe?”
“Let’s try an experiment.” She went to Kris and seized one of her nipples between
thumb and forefinger. She started pulling. “We’ll pretend I’m a seagull.” She lifted the
breast, stretching it out. Her long fingernails dug viciously into the tender flesh of the
nipple. She began tugging and twisting. “Whaddaya think, Krissy? Is that what being bit by
a seagull would feel like?”
Kris bit her lip to keep from crying out, but couldn’t prevent the tears from
starting to trickle. Good Lord, she thought, this woman is as bad as her husband. She gave
the poor nipple another hard tug, then released it and stepped back.
“Maybe we’ll find out in a few days,” Binkman said. “Meantime, this here is a ship
and I’m the captain, which means I’m the law on-board. And as the captain I’m damned well
going to impose some proper seagoing punishment on you pirates. Back in the old days
they’d flog the hide offa your back as soon as look at you.” Binkman had retrieved his
pistol from hispocket. He waved it at each woman in turn to emphasize his point. “I think
will start with this one.” He pointed the pistol at Alyx. She thought for a moment Binkman
intended to shoot her. But then he said to Melissa “Get her ready.”
Melissa untied Alyx. As she stretched her kinked limbs a thought entered her mind.
She could jump overboard. Swim for it. She could take them by surprise, be over the rail
before they could react. Would Binkman shoot at her in the water? But swim where? Her
memory of the previous night and the difficulty she’d had getting to the boat was still
fresh. Even if Binkman didn’t shoot her she’d most likely drown before she made it to
shore. Damn, she thought. I’m getting suicidal.
So, instead of leaping over the side of the boat she meekly let the bitchy little
trophy wife lead her across the deck to another of the posts supporting the awning.
Melissa had her stand facing the post, then raise her arms over her head and cross her
wrists. Binkman handed Melissa a short piece of rope which she used to tie Alyx’s wrists
to the post. Melissa had to stand on tiptoe to reach high enough.
With Alyx secured Binkman pocketed the pistol and went below again. He returned
carrying a cat-o-nine tails.
“Perhaps I should thank you girls,” he said nastily. “Always wanted a chance to use
Old Betsy here.”
He held it up for all the women to see it, making sure to stand where Alyx could turn
her head and look. The cat was a fearsome thing. The various flogging devices used on the
island were designed to sting but do minimal damage, since a woman sent to the infirmary
for weeks or permanently injured was considered a waste of a valuable property. But this
device was longer, the falls made of coarse, stiff material. And most frightening, bits of
metal were worked into the falls.
“Yep,” Binkman continued with pride in his voice. “Picked this up years ago. This is
the genuine article. This is what they used in the old days on men o’war, back in the days
of wooden ships and iron men. Always wanted to see what it could do.”
He swung the cat back and forth gently, letting the falls trace a sinuous path
through the air. Then his arm moved back and Alyx closed her eyes and gritted her teeth,
while Cassandra and Kris stared in wide-eyed horror as he prepared to strike.
Binkman stopped and turned to Melissa. “My dear, I think a few practice strokes are
in order. Get a life jacket and tie it to one of these posts.”
Melissa did as she was told, ducking into the cabin and returning a moment later with
a bright orange life jacket and a piece of twine. She wrapped the lifejacket around a post
where all three women could see it and tied it in place with twine. Binkman stepped up and
chose his spot like a golfer lining up for a putt. He swung the cat, not very hard, and it
raked across the lifejacket, leaving ragged parallel rips in its path. A second swing came
in too low, striking the post and ripping small splinters from it.
“Damn!” Binkman swore in a low voice. “Gonna cost to have that fixed.”
He took a third swing, this time hitting the lifejacket square. Small bits of fabric
and plastic foam flotation went flying.
“Ahoy, the Pequod,” a voice called out. “Permission to come aboard?”
Alyx recognized it as Eric’s. She turned to see a Boston Whaler approach with Eric
and three of his assistants aboard. She’d never been happy to see him before, but now she
felt she could kiss him. Mr. Binkman looked a bit unhappy.
“Permission granted,” he called out somewhat grudgingly.
The Whaler pulled alongside. Eric climbed aboard, followed by two of his assistants.
He looked at the cat in Binkman’s hand and the shredded lifejacket. He arched an eyebrow
pointedly as he looked at Mr. Binkman. “I do hope, sir, you didn’t seriously intend to use
that device on any of our girls. I’m certain the board of directors would be most
unhappy.”
Binkman looked a bit sheepish. “Of course not. I was just havin’ some fun messing
with their minds.”
He shot a nasty look at Kris and Cassandra. Something in that look made Kris believe
Binkman had every intention of working them over with the terrible device. She prayed he’d
never be given the opportunity.
“Very good, sir. I’m glad to hear that.” Something in the tone of Eric’s reply told
Kris that Eric wasn’t entirely believing Mr. Binkman either. “We’ll be taking the girls
into our custody now.”
His assistants untied Kris and Cassandra first and helped them into the Whaler. Then
they returned for Alyx. She was trembling and had to be helped to walk across the deck to
the boarding ladder. Minutes later Eric had them lined up on the dock.
“Girls,” he was saying, “you have no idea how mad I am at you, and you know what an
easy going person I am. So you can imagine how much trouble you are in. Now, I’m going to
take you to the detention cells. I should have you hogtied and make you wriggle on your
bellies all the way there, but I’m not going to do that. But if you cause the least amount
of trouble, if you so much as show me a dirty look I’ll have you spread eagled on the
ground and whip your asses off right now. Is that clear?”
All three mumbled yes, eyes firmly cast down at the ground.
“Ok, then. Follow me.”
He led them through the cluster of service buildings they’d slunk through the night
before, then turned away from the fence and the main building, to lead them to a low
concrete structure, almost like a bunker. One at a time he led them down a stairway and
through a heavy metal door. Inside was a bare corridor with blank metal doors on either
side, cell doors. Each woman was ushered into a cell, alone, and the door swung shut
behind her.
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