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.
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