Doris, Friends and Pirates
by Harry

Chapter 1

"Get to work you lazy bitch - unless you want some of this on that goodly buxom rump!"

The black-bearded and foul smelling pirate raised his cutlass threateningly. Doris Maloney redoubled her efforts as she scrubbed away at the deck of the "Merry Maid" the inappositely named ship where she had been a slave and captive for nearly a year. She had no wish to feel the flat of that weapon descend forcefully once more over her shapely and exquisite posterior, appetisingly and invitingly raised as she worked away on her knees. That part of her had felt the cutlass's merciless sting too many times! She had no wish for more.

At least she was relatively free, unlike her fellow captive, Marcella, who was at this very moment tied naked to the bow exquisitely filling the role of figurehead. They had made Doris do her stint in this regard many times in the past, but Marcella's fuller and firmer bosom had, unfortunately for her, made her the pirates' favourite ever since she had joined Doris and her friend a few weeks ago. Doris had never liked being a figurehead.

Whenever it negotiated a wave the front of the ship would dip, and the living figurehead would be drenched a thousand times a day. The salt would ruin her lovely golden hair. No - sexy, fun loving Marcella was welcome to it!

She wondered how Marlene was coping, shackled in irons, far below, in the dark and noisome bowels of the vessel. Marlene was a defiant girl who had still not knuckled under to these harsh and brutal buccaneers. No matter how many times she had been flogged, pegged out for hours in the sun or hung, spread-eagled in the rigging, she continually spat defiance at her captors. Funny, really, because Marlene had always been the quiet one before this Caribbean holiday had gone so disastrously wrong.

The cutlass came down hard on Doris' sweating backside, leaving a red mark to mar its glossy smoothness. She got on with her work. It was not yet nine in the morning and a long day lay ahead. Better concentrate on the job in hand and stop daydreaming, she thought. My poor old arse can only take so much of this in a single day!

Marcella, meanwhile, strained to ease her discomfort. She had been tied tightly to the prow of the ship, high up, but not high enough to avoid dipping frequently down into the briny water below. It was a choppy sea today and the up and down motion was doing her delicate stomach no good at all, a state of affairs to which her frequent vomiting gave eloquent testimony. "Not a pretty sight, really - a puking figurehead," she reflected, as she tried vainly to make light of her misery. "If only I'd gone to St. Tropez instead!"

Marlene, deep in the bowels of the ship, was almost ready to break at last. She had been whipped times without number, tied down on the deck and hung up to dry in the rigging, without ever kowtowing to the scum who had abducted them. But the darkness and the rustling sounds around her which she knew to be large black rats scurrying about the hold were doing what her previous sufferings had failed to do. She was many times on the verge of crying out for mercy and promising to be a good girl in future. Two things stopped her.

No one could hear her even if she did cry out for mercy and apart from her isolation; there was a hard residue of defiance, which even this present horror would never overcome. She fought down her fear and her horror and forced herself to think of other things. Damn these bastards!

Meanwhile, up above, the sun was now high in the sky. Doris was still busily engaged in scrubbing the deck clean. This was no easy task, in view of the unhygienic, not to say downright revolting, personal habits of many of the crew. Doris, as a young student, for a dare, had tried chewing tobacco! The extremity of physical discomfort and humiliation to which she had been rapidly reduced after just one brief experiment had convinced her for all time that the wicked weed was not for her! And here she was, removing these loathsome brown stains from the deck of the Merry Maid, being cheerily and stingingly chastised if she failed to do her duty properly.

‘I'll sue that travel agent, if I get the chance,’ she thought, as she redoubled her efforts, having just received yet another painful salutation of cold steel to her suffering naked buttocks. The bearded ruffian disappeared as she was engaged in these thoughts, to be replaced by a colleague. This undersized and even more vermin ridden gentleman did not wield a cutlass. Instead he carried a length of knotted rope, which he swung from side to side as he strode up and down, keeping one corner of his eye fixed on the toiling girl.

Jem Cartwright, for such was this ill-favoured gentleman's name, lusted for Doris. As she worked steadily on, her ripe young breasts swinging to and fro as she scrubbed away, her golden hair for ever falling over her face, he again cursed a Fate that condemned him to never get to do more than look at this lovely and ever naked young woman. Captain Augustus Farr was the one who had the use of this particular gorgeous body as well as those of her two fellow slaves, and any attempt by the rest of the crew to have their lecherous way with them would be harshly punished.

Young Oliver Swain had once made a pass at Marlene, who had scratched his face angrily, leaving a mark he bore to this day. That was nothing compared to what the captain had caused to be done to him. First he had been savagely flogged and then keelhauled. Since then he had been very careful to keep his hands to himself.

Finally, the sight of those sweet young buttocks became too much for Jem to bear any longer. Forbidden to lay his hands on these mellifluous hemispheres, he did the next best thing and "tickled" them with his rope's end, adding to the marks left by black beard's cutlass.

Doris worked on, knowing that any reaction to the blows would only encourage the ruffian to strike again. By this time she had cleaned more than half the deck and her first meal and refreshing drink of water was only an hour away. She tried to ignore her hunger, thirst and increasing weariness. These people showed no mercy to the girls when they perceived them to be slacking, and Doris still recalled with a shudder the three days she had spent stretched out on the deck, day and night with only one cup of water per day and nothing solid to eat whatever.

What had the brochure said? Oh, yes! The holiday of a lifetime! Very funny! She could have them under the Trade Descriptions Act, as well as for kidnapping and assault.

Down in the hold, Marlene heard footsteps approaching. Soon she saw a lantern coming through the darkness. The swarthy sailor placed a bowl of food and a cup of water next to her. This gentleman raised the lantern and inspected the chained prisoner. What he saw pleased him very much. Marlene was, in his humble opinion, easily the prettiest of the three girls. He had always liked redheaded women and this one had the most glorious hair he had ever seen. Even in this loathsome place and covered as she was with filth, she was a splendid sight, with her creamy skin, trim rounded feminine stomach and slender waist.

The light of the lamp showed up the lustre of her red hair, especially that covering the lower abdomen! He got a glimpse of her generous vaginal lips, peeking through the shrubbery, and sighed. What a shame the crew were not permitted to handle the cargo! Not that some of them would wish to, even if they were allowed - bunch of fairies!

The lantern departed together with the sailor. Marlene ate the disgusting food and drank the tepid water. It might be the last nourishment for quite a while. She had lost count of time by now, but guessed she had been here for over a week. (It was actually twelve days). Left by herself in the darkness again she finished eating and drinking, closed her eyes and slept.

"How much longer are they going to keep poor Marlene down there?" Marcella asked Doris. It was evening now and both girls were locked in their tiny and overheated cabin. Marcella was rubbing her ankles and wrists, trying to get her circulation going after her day as a live and very beautiful figurehead. Tomorrow she would be back in her place providing adornment to the prow of the privateer. She hoped the sea would be calmer by then. Her stomach felt as if it would never be the same again and she must have swallowed half the ocean by the time she was finally released by a leering one-eyed mariner.

"I can't even begin to guess, Marcella," replied Doris. "Last time she was punished they kept her lashed to the rigging for five days. Whenever any of the crew were within earshot, she just kept on shouting abuse at them. That's why they put her in the hold. They can't hear her now she's down below. I sometimes wish I had her courage but I do think she will have to stop being so defiant. The treatment they give her will kill her before long, and she is my dearest friend!"

Marcella put her arm around the distressed Doris. She looked at the other girl's backside, still sore after a day being chastised, firstly by the flat of a cutlass, then by a tarred rope's end and finally by the captain's leather belt. The captain had been in a bad mood - again!

There was a loud knock on the door and immediately a villainous scar-faced pirate pushed his way unceremoniously inside. He grasped Marcella roughly by the arm.

"Captain wants you. Come along of me, wench!"

Poor Marcella, thought Doris. All day gazing out to sea and being periodically dunked and now an hour with that bloody pervert! Doris dreaded her sessions with the captain more than she dreaded the sting of a rope's end on her curvaceous bottom. "I wonder what nonsense he has in mind for tonight?" Then her thoughts returned to the wretched Marlene still in her horrible captivity far below the water line, half immersed in the foul smelling bilge and her own bodily waste. She prayed for her to be freed soon and come to realise the futility of resistance. She also prayed for someone to come to their aid and free them all from these murderous thugs.

As Doris continued her prayers for deliverance, Marcella was being ushered into the Captain's well-appointed and luxurious cabin.

"That will be all, Broken-Nose," he said to the glowering pirate, who left, not without a backward glance at Marcella and her breathtakingly lovely rear view.

‘What an arse,’ thought the lustful ruffian.

"What is it to be tonight, Captain?" asked Marcella after Captain Farr had secured the door to prevent his evening's pleasure being interrupted.

"I've been such a naughty boy today," sobbed the Captain. "Keeping nice Marcella tied up all day. Sob, sob!"

Marcella breathed a relieved sigh. This was something she could handle - got to be careful not to go too far, though. She certainly didn't want to join Marlene lying in her own filth for God knows how long. She shuddered at the thought and had to fight down an urge to be sick once again.

Captain Farr pointed to the handsome oak cabinet opposite the fine mirror. Marcella went over to it and removed a long swishy cane. She turned to the Captain. "Who's been a naughty boy, then?"

"I have, Mistress Marcella. What is your will for this sinner?"

"Take off your fine breeches and Calvin Klein undershorts you wicked boy. That bottom needs a spanking. Bad Captain Farr!"

The captain did as she ordered and Marcella swished away at his buttocks for a while, trying to keep her eyes off him as far as possible. It was not a pretty sight! The Captain was well past his sell-by date as a dashing lover and more than a little overweight! Once the chubby cheeks were a pretty shade of pink, she desisted.

"Let that be a lesson to you - wicked, naughty boy!"

The captain straightened up and pulled his pants and breeches back onto his ample posterior. He leered at his slave/mistress in as near a friendly way as this murderous and black-hearted scourge of the Seven Seas was capable. "And now, my dear. I think I need to eat. Lie down on the table."

‘Oh, Shit,’ thought Marcella, ‘not that again!’

The captain went over to the door, opened it and bellowed for the meal to be brought in. When the dishes had been placed on the table, the food was placed, course by course, on Marcella's flat stomach. The captain sat, knife and fork in hand until the first course was ready to eat. Marcella knew that she must not sneeze or in any other way risk disturbing the meal. She prayed that the captain would be a little more careful with the knife and fork than on some previous occasions! It hurt when he accidentally dug them into her skin!

The worst part was between courses, when the disgusting Captain would bend over her and carefully lick off all traces of the previous course. Almost as bad was the sweet, especially if fresh cream was involved. That really turned her stomach!

"I don't suppose you got any leftovers," asked Doris as Marcella was finally thrust

roughly back into the cabin. He stomach was red and bleeding slightly from a few scratches. The drunken oaf of a captain had definitely not been careful with his eating irons!

"Fat chance of that, Doris. That greedy pig never leaves a scrap! I don't think I've met anyone so utterly gross in my life. And I moved once and a few peas fell off me. He looked very upset at that. I just hope he's forgotten about it in the morning! Oh - another thing. He has a guest to dinner tomorrow. I fear you will have to join me! How I hate this life, Doris! During the day a figurehead and in the evening a bloody dinner plate! What a life!"

"At least we get to breathe fresh air and can see the light of day! And we get to use a toilet and wash ourselves once in a while. Just think of poor Marlene in that stinking hell down there and be grateful!"

Doris thought, even as she said this, that Marlene really had only herself to blame. Sooner or later her defiant friend would need to see that their only choice was to come to terms with their situation and try to make the best of it, whilst never losing sight of their ultimate hope of being free again one day.

She told Marcella to lie on the floor and knelt beside her, trying to treat the scratches on her stomach. It was treatment that Marcella liked! She closed her eyes and sighed happily as Doris’ warm moist tongue licked away at the abrasions left by the disgusting Captain. Sometimes, she told herself, this ordeal was almost enjoyable!


Doris spat out another mouthful of seawater. She realised it was a great honour to be the ship's figurehead once again, but after a week of it she was wishing that the Captain would return the shapely and voluptuously bosomed Marcella to this role. But Marcella was being punished. The Captain had not been pleased that she had sneezed and caused some peas to roll off her stomach. When, the next day, she had similarly offended, his patience, ever a commodity in short supply, ran out.

He had decreed a week stretched out on deck to enjoy the sun, as he put it, to be followed by a further week tied to the rigging. He was a nasty bit of work in many ways, but had never been known to go back on his word, especially when it was a promise to do something unpleasant! So Marcella was not coming down for seven more days and that was that.

‘At least I get the cabin to myself at nights,’ she thought. Marcella was tied up day and night and there was no sign that the Captain was in any hurry to bring Marlene up from the Stygian foulness of the hold. He had still not forgiven that girl for her behaviour when on evening cabin duty. He liked to be beaten once in a while by a pretty girl, but not to the extent that Marlene had laid into him. His posterior still bore the marks! And as if that was not enough, she had carefully waited until the main course had been served onto her stomach - his favourite stomach of the three, so flat and broad! Then she had jerked in such a way as to leave much of the repast plastered over the Captain's face. Whenever he thought of this all the rage he had experienced at the time was revived and he cursed the defiant bitch anew.

Happily for Marlene, he still remembered the lovely concavity of that sweet belly and longed to feast off it again. In time his rage would subside and be overcome by his wish to eat off her once again. Until then she would have to stay where she was.

Doris needed every second's sleep she could steal. Not only was she doing duty as figurehead, but also a couple of hours cleaning the decks was added to the end of her day, and then there was still the Captain and his rich variety of weird desires to satisfy. The absence of two other girls with their snoring and chatter and general capacity to keep each other awake all night was a blessing, although she was distressed to think at what a high price this welcome solitude had been bought.

Marlene, meanwhile, was wandering along a country lane in her native Yorkshire Dales. She was on her way home from school and had picked a posy of flowers to give to her darling Mummy, who, next to her father was the most precious person in her life. She loved school. But she loved her happy home in a delightful little village even more. And when she got home, Spot would be waiting for her, anxious to lick her face and be taken for his evening walk, chasing rabbits across the fields. She wondered what Mummy would have prepared for Tea. Something lovely. She knew that. Mummy was such a wonderful cook and always knew what her pretty daughter wanted, even before Marlene knew herself! She was such a happy and lucky little girl!

And then she came out of her daydream and sobbed bitterly at the memory of her lost life in England and her present misery. Still - she knew her father would have applauded her defiance, that hero who had won medal after medal serving Queen and Country. Yes! He would never have caved in to these bastards and neither would she. She saw his face in her mind's eye, smiling at her and heard his voice telling her he was proud of her. Her tears dried up and she tried to sleep. How much longer? She asked.

Marcella had just decided, after two days stretched on the rigging, that she would sooner be a figurehead - at least she got the evening s off! She would never sneeze again as long as she lived! Like Doris, she accepted the futility of resistance and saw that there were things to be grateful for in their predicament. One was that at least they were not being raped day after day by these horrible pirates. The Captain was very determined that his three toys be not soiled by contact with the ruffian, evil smelling and unkempt crew. His desires might be bizarre in the extreme, but penetration was not one of them, thank Heaven! Even so, some of the things he wanted them to do were definitely not at all nice! No matter how dishy any of her future boyfriends might be, she would never find fellatio enjoyable again!

She wriggled in a vain attempt to ease her discomfort and settled down to another night swaying in accord with she ship's motion. She hoped the ropes binding her did not break. It was a long way to fall!

Doris fell asleep in her cabin.

Marlene lay awake in the hold and prayed for death. She would never yield to these people and saw no chance of rescue.

But, several thousand miles away, things were happening.

Chapter 2

"Third Girl Missing - Caribbean Mystery - Latest"

Angela FitzMaurice glanced at the placard as she dashed towards Mansion House Station, hurrying home after another long day at the office. Those six words were sufficient to make her pause in her headlong rush back to Hampstead. She thrust fifty pence into the hand of the eternally amiable newsvendor, telling him to keep the change, then continued on her hurried way to the platform.

As usual, at the highly inconvenient hour she finished work, (much the same time as everyone else) the station was heaving with other commuters, all anxious to be home slumped moronically in front of the television to watch whatever puerile mid-Atlantic trash was on offer this evening. Angela, though, was not about to join the great unwashed in this pursuit of mindless triviality. She was on her way to the "Duke of Hamilton", the "Holly Bush" and last, but not least "The Flask" before flopping down onto her bed for a few hours of much needed slumber. When she finally hit the sack she hoped to be well and truly smashed!

By the time Angela had passed Tottenham Court Road, she had managed to get herself a seat, by dint of making eyes at a vulnerable looking young man. She smiled sweetly at him as he surrendered his and thenceforth ignored him! The disappointed youth resigned himself to the fact that such an un-charismatic fellow as he could never succeed in pulling a delicious girl like that and forgot the incident. It was enough for him that he had, however briefly, made eye contact with such loveliness.

Angela remembered the paper and took a look at it. As usual, the item she was most interested in was on an inside page. She turned the pages and found what she was looking for.

"Fun loving and busty Marcella Forbes-Benson-Hope, elder daughter of the Earl and Countess of Laxtonbury, is still missing, six weeks after leaving for a holiday on the Caribbean island of Rio del Espana. Her inexplicable disappearance has added to the mystery surrounding the fate of two other English girls whose fate is still unknown after nearly a year.

"Marlene Holroyd and Doris Maloney went missing more than eleven months ago in the same island. They had been on a trip organised by "Captain Morgan Tours" the recently dissolved travel company, whose fugitive director has been named by the police as a person who may be able to assist them in their enquiries."

Angela sat back in her seat. Golly! First those two girls in the General Office who had been posted absent without leave! And now a scion of the nobility and darling of the gossip columnists missing in equally strange circumstances…

Why had that company been dissolved? She had a pretty good idea! Just going to ground for a while, only to resurface a little later. That was how these commercial pirates worked!

During the following days she kept a weather eye on the papers, both the company and travel pages. One rainy Saturday her vigilance was rewarded. In the weekend travel supplement she saw an item that rang loads of bells!

"Long John Silver Tours!! The Spanish Main!! Buccaneers - Pirates - Castaways!!!. Live the exciting days of old!!!! OOH aye me hearties!!. Belay there atween decks!! Book now and pay as little as two hundred pounds for ten unforgettable days!"

Angela, an adventurous girl who bitterly regretted resigning her commission in the Royal Navy, was sick and tired of her boring if highly paid job! ‘Shit! Let's go and see what happened to those girls,’ she thought. ‘I feel in my water that something is awfully wrong here! Let's go for it!’

Professor Aloysius Hamley-Benson-Fortescue was not a happy chappie!

"There has been a major breach of security, gentlemen," he said. "I am certain of that."

"I really think you are becoming just a little paranoid, Professor!"

"Maybe, Benson! But this is pretty high security stuff. If anyone gets his/her hands on this, it could be curtains for a lot of people!"

There was silence as the Faculty took this on board.

"We all know we've uncovered something pretty exciting, gentlemen! If it falls into unscrupulous hands, I dread to think what might happen. Vigilance must be our watchword! That fellow we employed as Personnel Director, What was his name?"

"Farr, Professor. Augustus Farr. Fat and lazy. Not only that but very nasty with it. Good job he left, if you ask me!"

"Maybe," replied the Professor, "but my guess is he took a look in our top security safe and copied a lot of documents. I hope not, but that's what I suspect. I hear he set up as a travel agent and then disappeared with the police hot on his trail."

There was an uneasy silence. They had all read of Farr's travel business and the two young women who had booked on one of his tours and gone missing. If they had been abducted by someone who had access to their discovery, the poor girls could be anywhere - not only that, but any time as well!

"Wasn't Farr supposed to be mixed up with some kidnapping in Scotland?" asked Clive Jenkins-Brown, a small worried looking man who had taken little part so far in the discussion.

The Professor nodded. "There was a girl the police found wandering naked and half dead along the coastal path. She was babbling about having been abducted and held in a ruined castle on a small island off the coast. Said she had broken free and swum ashore. No one believed her, but they checked her story out - she did have signs of having been beaten recently - and, sure enough, they found two other young women, both naked like her and both with the same story to tell. For some reason, it never made the national press in a big way - there was a war on at the time, I suppose - or was it Princess Di being killed? Anyway it went largely unnoticed."

The Professor paused for breath and took a sip of water. "The fellow who was holding them answered Farr's description OK and he could have been there at the time. He was on leave of absence. The things they said of his treatment of them fit in with what we know of his character too. He wanted all manner of kinky things from them, but underlying everything was a desire to strip, humiliate and cause pain to young women. I'd say he was one very dangerous and unpleasant man."

"How did he slip away from the island?" asked Jenkins-Brown.

"He had a fast boat," answered the Professor. "He is quite a sailor. I think he was in the RN until his bizarre sexual tastes grew too much for even that organisation to stomach any more."

"And we took on a man like that as Personnel Director! Ye Gods!" muttered Jenkins-Brown.

"Forged references," snapped the Professor. "Sadly we were none to careful how we checked them out. The thing we have to decide is this - what are we going to do about it?"

After further discussion it was agreed that they should keep an eye on the situation and tighten security but not call in the authorities. The last thing any of them wanted was the Government asking awkward questions about their research. They all agreed that any financial benefits accruing from it should be theirs and not a Government all of them despised. So it was decided to do nothing. Poor Jenkins-Brown was not happy, but held his peace.

On the way home he became more concerned than ever. As was his wont he stopped by at his favourite Hampstead pub for an evening unwinding drink. His friend Angela joined him. She saw he was worried and skilfully drew the whole story out of him, almost without his noticing he was being pumped.

On her own way home after this productive chance meeting, her head was spinning with what she had just heard. What a diabolical scheme, if it were true! She knew Farr well enough and had been the prosecuting officer on that loathsome creep's court martial. Being cashiered had been too good for him as far as she had been concerned. Now she knew she simply had to follow this up!

Had she known that one of the three disappeared women was just starting her twelfth week chained in the filthy darkness of a ship's hold, she would have had more of a sense of urgency. Even so, she knew there was little time to lose.

Angela, the Professor and Jenkins-Brown were closeted in the Professor's office. Angela shared the Professor's reluctance to involve the authorities, although not for the same reason. While they were reluctant to have others cash in on their discovery she was afraid that if the kidnappers got wind of a pursuit they might put themselves and their victims out of reach forever.

"So you seriously think you've invented some kind of time-travel device?" she asked the Professor. Her mind had still not entirely come to terms with what her friend Jenkins-Brown had told her the other night.

"We think so - yes. Of course we can't be totally sure. What we do know is that by beaming an impulse from a transmitter to a receiver, the receiver appears to disappear. When the transmitter is turned off the receiver reappears. We're pretty sure the receiver is pushed into a different time, whether past or future we don't know. Since it would be such a risk, no one on my team has even thought about attaching themselves to the receiver. We are at too experimental a stage at present. Whoever has stolen our research details has clearly taken it several stages further than we have if these disappearance in the Caribbean are connected with our work."

The Professor got up and looked out of the window. It was early autumn and the leaves were already beginning to fall. The scene below in the park looked so normal, and yet inside this room the most amazing things were being discussed. He came back to his chair and continued explaining to Angela, who was still not sure she believed him.

"I'll give you a demonstration in a few minutes, my dear. As you will see, the mounting of the receiver also disappears. I think it possible that a very large object indeed could be made apparently to vanish, including people. They would still exist, but either somewhere or some time else. I think our demonstration should be ready; shall we go?"

"I bet he's rigged up one of these devices on a ship!" said Angela as the three of them returned to the office. What she had just seen had settled her doubts once and for all. There was no way that that what she had seen could be an illusion. "Do you think that would be possible?"

The other two nodded. They thought it entirely possible. They thought a lot of things were entirely possible. Angela formed the impression that the implications of their invention had by no means been fully appreciated by them. It was still in many ways just an interesting theory to these people, but a criminal mind would see endless opportunities.

As a condition of her not approaching the police herself about the possible theft of information, she insisted on a fuller investigation, including putting a person at the receiving end of the device. She was determined to see what happened to the disappeared object and volunteered herself for the role of guinea pig.

An appointment was arranged for ten days hence. She was assured that it would take this long to fix everything up and reluctantly agreed. Poor Marlene, meanwhile, continued to languish in the dark and Marcella spent day after day tied to the front of the ship and evening after evening participating in a variety of kinky activities, many of which culminated in fresh punishments for her.

Doris continued to clean the deck and fetch and carry for the crew. She was becoming a very strong young woman by this time but she feared her hands were ruined forever.

While she was waiting for the Professor and company to get their experiment together, Angela visited the parents of the three missing girls. Marcella's parents were not inclined to be too worried as yet. Their daughter was famously independent and both had every confidence in her ability to look after herself. They offered Angela every assistance in her quest.

Doris' parents had divorced many years ago, not long after she had been born. Her mother was a mousy little thing, quite beside herself with grief. She was sure Doris was dead.

"She was a good girl. Miss FitzMaurice," she sobbed, "she'd never have gone off without a word to her poor old mum!"

Doris' father had since remarried twice. His present spouse was a lissom young blonde no older than Doris. His interest in his first offspring was purely perfunctory.

Marlene's father was different kettle of fish altogether. Brigadier Holroyd had been to the island several times trying to find his daughter, whose name he pointed was pronounced the German way, with the terminal 'e' being pronounced.

Angela could see that this was a man who would not rest until he knew his favourite child's fate one way or another. He expressed utter incredulity when Angela told him of the Professor's project, but a meeting with the group and a demonstration soon convinced him. He agreed to accompany Angela to the island as soon as she was ready.

"My idea is to act as a kind of decoy, Brigadier. I think you should keep a discreet eye on me and organise a search for the transmitter. Once we find that and destroy or immobilise it, the whole criminal enterprise will be over, but we must be careful not to alert them to the fact that they are under surveillance. But first we have to investigate this device of theirs more fully."

"You're a brave girl, my dear. If and when you meet Marlene, you'll find you've a lot in common! That girl's afraid of nothing and of nobody." His eyes became moist as he said this and his military moustache could not hide the trembling of his upper lip.

Some weeks after this conversation, while Angela was arranging to fly to the Caribbean on one of the "Long John Silver" tours, Marcella and Doris were on shore helping to load supplies on to a longboat. It was hard work and both of them were exhausted. However tired they might be, they knew they must not ease up in the slightest if they wanted their hides to remain untouched by the broad leather belt that their "minder" was using to beat the air. He would like nothing better than to use it on them!


"What, Marcella?"

"The ship! One second it was there and the next it wasn't. Then it came back again! And I could swear there were loads of other boats around instead of the ship. Weird!"

Doris looked over her naked bronzed shoulder. "Well it's there now, right enough - worse luck for us."

The overseer came over to them and ordered them to get back in the boat. They were soon back on board. Inside their cabin, on her bunk again for the first time in over five months was Marlene! She looked truly terrible, thin and horribly pale. She managed a weak smile at them as they came into the little cabin. Doris was by her side in an instant, tears running down her face.

"They let me out a few hours ago. I thought the light would blind me at first after so long in the dark, but it's getting easier now. They need to clean up down there, so I get a few days or weeks to get my strength back before I go back down again."

"Oh, no! Surely you won't go back to that hell, Marlene! Please try to bend a little!"

"Too late for that!" Marlene said in a voice growing weaker by the minute, " The Captain offered not to put me back there if I was a good girl and I told him to go and play with his pathetic little excuse for a dick! He wasn't happy at that, so back I go in a few days! I've stuck it for so long now, I'm not afraid."

"Marlene, please try and see sense," wept Doris. "We all want to get out of this hell, but if you are stuck down there, the two of us can't leave you behind, so your obstinacy means we're all stuck here. Don't you see that, Marlene my love? Please make your peace with the Captain - we all know what a loathsome bastard he is! You don't think it's easy for us do you, to avoid throwing up every time we go to his cabin for another of his horrible games?"

Even as she spoke she saw the hard look in her friend's bright blue eyes. Pale and haggard she might be, and ready to faint from weakness and exhaustion, but there was nothing but steel in that gaze! "O God, please make her see reason!" Doris prayed.


(Back in England)

"Well! Welcome back, Angela." The other people in the laboratory breathed giant sighs of relief as the receiver and Angela re-appeared. Both would have been a loss!

"How did it feel?" asked the professor.

"Extremely normal," laughed Angela, "considering I was somewhere else in time and space. I don't know where or when I was, but it was definitely not this building. I was in a clearing in a wood and it seemed quite warm. I got off the machine, but did not let go of it. I wonder what would happen if I did? I think we had better try that out next time - how about now?"

The others shook their heads. They would need to examine both transmitter and receiver to see how much wear and tear the day's operation had caused. An increasingly frustrated Miss FitzMaurice reluctantly agreed to yet another delay. She left the University buildings and made her way to the Brigadier's home.

Like her, this gentleman was becoming increasingly frustrated at the continuing delays, but, as Angela pointed out, they needed to know as much as possible about what they were likely to be up against. They sat quietly in Jeremy's spacious lounge for a while, digesting the day's events and growing more and more comfortable with each other’s company.

"Why don't you go out there on your own, while I'm waiting to get these tests over and done with?" asked Angela after half an hour of silence punctuated by inconsequential chat. "You might come up with something before I get out there. I won't be more than a couple of weeks since I am booked to be on the next vacancy - just waiting to get the tickets etc. from the travel agency."

The two had both looked closely into the affairs of Long John Silver Tours and had been in touch with a lot of people who had been out to the island with this company and returned safely; full of praise for the standard of service they had received. It all seemed to be a very above-board agency. The previous owner, Augustus Farr, had sold out shortly before his hurried departure one step ahead of the law. The present concern had its registered office in Liechtenstein! A Liechtenstein HQ was never a good sign, said a financial contact of Angela's "They might well have something to hide."

While the rest of the experiments were being prepared, Angela and Brigadier Jeremy Holroyd made enquiries of many of the former customers of Long John Silver Tours and its predecessor company. Apart from the usual grouses that arise from time to time none of them seemed to have any complaints at all. It seemed to have basically been a hotel holiday, with the hotel staff being dressed as pirates, some very convincingly. One young lady confessed to have been quite intimidated by one of them in particular.

Most of the day seemed to have been spent around the pool and pool bar and the evenings devoted to wining, dining and partying. There had been a number of excursions arranged, with a supposedly piratical theme, including a three day cruise, which all who had taken part in had enjoyed. Only one oddity emerged from all this.

There was one so-called 'special excursion' which a number of the travellers had applied for, only to be told that, sadly, it was overbooked and they would have to be disappointed. The pair did not come across anyone who had been on this particular one-week cruise on a replica pirate ship called the "Merrie Maide".

They did ascertain that Marlene and Doris had applied and been told the same as the others - the tour was fully booked. Marcella had not actually been a customer of Long John Tours, being an independent traveller, but several people had met her at the hotel and verified that she had also applied for this excursion.

Merrie Maide Tours was apparently a local company. Angela determined to apply for a place on the Merry Maid herself. She suspected that the people who had vanished had been singled out because they were obviously lone women, unaccompanied by friends and family. Lady Marcella would have been an even more tempting target, as a totally independent traveller. Another thing these girls had in common was that they were all extremely attractive, compared to the general run of somewhat ageing and/or unattractive ladies who booked for these holidays. They had not merely been young and pretty, but very young and very pretty.

Finally all the preliminaries were completed. Angela felt she knew enough about the device for her purposes. She had tried one or two risky moves, with interesting results. If she were captured, she would know what to do!

The Brigadier had left on his own a few days ago, promising to meet up with Angela as soon as she arrived. The pair had kissed before saying 'au revoir' and Angela had enjoyed the experience! She was very anxious to get out to the island herself and meet up with her new friend. She wanted to find the missing girls and even more so now that one of them was the daughter of a man she was falling in love with.

She finally settled into her seat on the plane, bound for the Caribbean, an area she had last visited as a callow sub-lieutenant four years ago. She knew what she had to do. Just look pretty, innocent and vulnerable - and wait! Sadly, she must not appear to be too friendly with the Brigadier. She was getting to be insanely attracted to this widower by this time - and he to her.

As Angela's plane touched down, Marlene, the Brigadier's daughter, was finally being released from her captivity, if only for a few days. Angela did not know it as she settled into her room at the hotel, but time was fast running out for her and the girls she aimed to rescue!

On her first morning there was the usual tiresome experience of attending a welcome meeting, the better to be filled in on all the delights of the locality, apparently once a nest of the foulest buccaneers who had ever sailed the Spanish Main. She managed to avoid yawning at all this introductory spiel. Had she been a genuine tourist she would have missed out on this waste of time, but she had to go through the motions of appearing to be an innocent abroad.

Finally their host came around to describing the various excursions on offer. At the end of his talk he mentioned the cruise on the Merry Maid, saying how it was almost certainly fully booked, but there might be one or two places left for the cruise leaving in five days' time. He looked at Angela as he spoke. She did not much like the expression on his face as he did so! He seemed to be measuring her up and liking what he saw!

Angela expressed an interest in the cruise and then made her excuses. Outside the hotel, she looked over her shoulder to see if she was being followed. She was! It was not one of the piratically dressed staff who was following her, but she recognised him as having been behind the desk when she checked in. It took her fully an hour before she was able to lose her follower without making it obvious that she was trying to slip him. Finally she met the Brigadier. Her heart leapt and her stomach churned as she saw those military features again!

"No luck in finding any trace of friend Farr, I'm afraid," he said, after planting a chaste kiss on her eagerly open and very moist mouth. ‘Damn the fellow! Can't he see how horny I am,’ she groaned to herself.

"Wherever the transmitter is, we know it must be overlooking the harbour, where this mysterious ship docks," said Angela. "This signal won't penetrate anything too solid. And wherever they go - it can't be too far away or they'd soon get out of range. No more than 50 miles. You need to concentrate on that area there, I'd say." She pointed at the hill which half encircled the harbour. The area was not an easy one to check, being very densely populated with many houses tumbling down the hill to the waterfront. The whole port was a veritable warren.

"Maybe the ship doesn't use this harbour," suggested the Brigadier. "It would be a risk sailing in here with port authorities and harbour masters etc. most likely wanting to inspect the vessel - especially since she's being used for tourism. I've arranged to have dinner with the Chief of Police tonight - we have mutual connections from the old Army days and I met him before when over here looking for Marlene. I'll see what he knows about this outfit."

The conversation turned to other matters. The brigadier talked of his Army days and then got on to the loss of his wife a few years ago. Angela spoke of her love for the Navy and regret at leaving it for a life of well-paid boredom. When Jeremy suggested they take their drinks up to his room for an hour or so before Angela went back to her hotel, he went red. Angela knew what he was thinking and reached across the table, quickly squeezing his large hairy knuckled hand.

"That would be nice, Jeremy! Nicer than anything that's ever happened to me! But we'd best make this a one-off. I think it'd be better for me not to seem too close to anyone."

They went upstairs, making reasonably certain that they had not been observed. Angela was a brisk and business-like young woman. She saw no reason to indulge in too many preliminaries!

"Sorry to seem forward, darling!" she laughed as she slid out of her light summer dress and pulled off her lacy knickers. She was not wearing a bra, having a firm figure still. Her stomach was contracting and expanding with the rapidly mounting passion she was feeling for this man now that he had finally made a move! She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and wondered why the guy was not showing more excitement at this splendidly bared body of hers!

"Well, come on! This IS what you wanted - I hope. It's certainly what I want!"

Jeremy was a shade more bashful than Angela, but he was soon out of his shirt and shorts, standing before her in his underpants. Angela had not expected to be disappointed by the sight of Jeremy's body. He believed in keeping fit and was in very good shape for a man in his late forties! She knelt in front of him and pulled down his one remaining garment, taking the brigadier's penis in her hand and massaging it, gently at first and then roughly and hungrily. She slid her eager mouth around the rigid column and licked its tip, causing Jeremy to groan.

Before he was ready to ejaculate she drew away.

"That's enough of that! Let's go to bed! Make it short, darling and make it good. Something tells me I'll need to have this to look back on in the days ahead. Every time I feel like giving up I'll remember this!"

Angela had been made love to a few times and she was forced to admit, as her lover roughly penetrated her, that the Brigadier was technically less proficient than her last bed mate, but he was obviously very much in love with her and this more than made up for the odd clumsiness. As she dressed she knew she had met the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

"Sorry about this in a way, darling. Normally I'd have wanted to wait, but I feel great danger in this place. It may be our one and only chance to make love. I'll never forget what just happened. It was so beautiful!"

"Yes, Angela! We'd best not meet again for a bit. Good luck! And be careful. I don't want to lose you as well as my daughter."

Angela agreed and arranged that they should meet again in a few days. There was plenty of time - the cruise was not scheduled to start until five day's time!

She only hoped none of the gang had seen her with the Brigadier! That would really throw a spanner in the works. She appreciated for the first time just how small a place this island was. Most likely everybody knew everybody around here! A dozen people must have seen them talking in the coffee lounge of his hotel, before going upstairs. She decided, with desperate regret, that their next meeting must be the last.

If she had known, on her way back to her own hotel, that there would be no next meeting, she would not have slept as well that night as she did!

Chapter 3

"They don't do an awful lot of pirating, these goons. In all the time we've been their prisoners I haven't seen them board a single ship! Come to that - we never seem to see another ship of any kind," observed Doris to Marcella a day or two after Marlene's release.

"No. I should think they must all be bored to tears with their life here. I bet they're all on the run from various kinds of legitimate pursuit. Why else would they spend their lives cooped up on this crummy ship and with a bastard like Farr as their boss! I'm not complaining, but it must break their hearts to be told we're off limits. He must have something on them all - that's for sure. I wonder what, exactly?"

"Do you believe his story about having left our own time behind, Doris?" asked Marcella.

"Well, as I just said, we never seem to meet any other ships, which is odd. But it does seem a pretty unlikely claim. What did they say to you when you were offered a place on the Merry Maid Adventure Cruise?"

Marcella smiled sadly. "Oh. Just that it would be a trip back to a time when hearty buccaneers sailed the Spanish Main, freebooting, living the life of Riley and generally raising Hell. I thought it sounded fun! At least I've met you, Doris! That's been really nice!"

Doris went red at this last comment and paused in her polishing the deck. Then she said, "I don't think any of these guys are from any century but our own. They might now and again try to talk like seventeenth century ruffians but I'm not fooled. As you say, they're all on the run and have hit on the perfect way of disappearing, but they keep coming back to the harbour, Marcella. They might only be around for a day or so when they do, but they don't seem able to stay away for too long at a time.

"And when they do make their periodic calls they must always be at risk... That could be our chance, if only they weren't so damned careful to keep us chained up below decks."

Marcella was released from her post as figurehead for the time being and the recovering Marlene had been dragged feebly kicking and still protesting obscenely to be tied to the ship's prow. There she breathed in the healthy sea air and contemplated the vastness of the empty ocean, now and then filling her mouth with a quantity of it as the boat dipped from time to time. In a few days she was due to go back down into the Stygian depths of the ship and she gloried in this comparative freedom while it lasted. Despite her refusal to apologise to the repulsive Farr, she dreaded going back into that stinking pit and knew she would not survive another five months down there.

Meanwhile, back in the present and on the mystery island, Angela spent her second full day in the resort town, doing all the normal things, lounging by the hotel pool for a few hours and propping up the bar for a few hours more. All the while she kept her eyes and ears open. In the evening she buttonholed the tour company rep and booked a visit to a place called Pirates' bay, as well as three days on the short cruise. She was told that the excursion on the Merry Maid had been cancelled for technical reasons - whatever that meant!

The Brigadier had not been in touch and she was not anxious to see him, despite the steamy time they had had together. Much as she had grown to love him these last weeks, some instinct told her that it was wiser for them to work independently from now on. In a small place such as this anybody could be an enemy. She knew how much corruption there could be in countries like this and decided to trust nobody from now on. For all she knew, even the Brigadier's friend the Chief of Police might be in Farr's pocket. Certainly the fat bastard must be relying on some pretty influential person or persons to hide all the equipment and to have brought it undetected on to the island in the first place.

She looked at herself in the mirror before going out for the evening. Her hair was much, much longer than when she had been at Farr's Court Martial. And her dress was very different from the smart naval uniform, which was all he had ever seen her wearing. And in those disciplined days she had neither worn earrings, nor had her navel pierced! Even the naughty tattoo on her left buttock was a post Naval addition to her appearance! It was pretty unlikely that he would recognise her - she had been a very minor player at the time in any case. Angela hoped she was right. If she were captured, as she intended to risk being, and the no doubt vengeful Farr recognised her, then Heaven help her!

She spent a few minutes studying the drawings of the transmitter and receiver, taking into account the possible improvements and modifications that might have been made. It would not be hard to hide the receiver on a ship, but it would need to be very near or even on the deck. The tests they had done had definitely established that the impulses would not penetrate too much solid matter. Once she was sure that the details were well and truly committed to memory, she tore the papers up and flushed them down the loo. Maybe she was becoming paranoid, but she was beginning to trust no one, not even the police - and certainly not the phoney-pirate staff in this hotel who were quite likely in on the conspiracy.

She was invited to join a group of people. They had obviously taken pity on her as a lone traveller. They all decided to try a restaurant on the harbour front, which had been recommended to one of the group before leaving home. After a very delicious meal and a quantity of excellent wine, Angela was beginning to relax and enjoy herself, almost forgetting the serious purpose of her visit.

Mr and Mrs Wellings suggested they round off the evening with a visit to a club some other guest had enthused about after visiting it the night before. "A superb belly dancer is the main attraction Very racy!" Mr Wellings said.

"I'm sure Angela doesn't want to look at that kind of thing - acres of naked female flesh! Why don't you go along on your own if you must and we girls will do our own thing for a couple of hours. Off with you, Phil - you pervert! See you back at the hotel!"

Left to themselves, they had another highly coloured and highly inebriating cocktail.

"What do they call this drink?" asked Angela.

"Sex on the Beach," replied Mrs Wellings. Both women found this very funny and it was several minutes before their giggles subsided.

"I prefer the other drink we had before that one!" gasped Angela as soon as she had got back her breath. "I preferred the "Orgasm" to "Sex on the Beach". More hysterical laughter followed and soon both women were walking arm in arm, more than a little tipsy, back to the hotel.

Angela giggled a few more times and tried to shake away the cobwebs - or worse - which were clouding her brain. She could hold her drink - or so she had thought before tonight! But the cocktails she had just consumed were hitting like no booze had ever hit her before.

"Shall I see you in the morning?" she asked Mrs Wellings in a slurred voice, feeling the world becoming more and more a blur.

"No, my dear! You won't be seeing me again - ever!" said Mrs Wellings, her face becoming larger by the second and covered with a sneering smile. That was all Angela saw until she woke up with a very bad headache and in a room she did not recognise.


(Back on the Ship)

"That's nice!" murmured Doris dreamily. Since Marcella had made that comment a few weeks ago the pair had become more and more crazy about each other. It was not that Doris was normally drawn to women, but in this situation, there was no way she could resist the voracious Marcella for long. It was not for nothing that the tabloid report on her disappearance had described her as either "fun loving" or "Busty"! Even in her present terrible predicament she was determined to have a little fun and Doris was a sweet looking girl.

Doris soon got to love the sight and feel of those glorious breasts. Marcella needed no encouragement and pushed herself more and more on the other girl. By this time the besotted Doris loved nothing more than to hungrily fondle, kiss and suck those firm globes and hard nipples. It was almost, although she hated herself for thinking it, a pleasure to have Marlene out of the way so often!

For the wretched Marlene was being punished again, although she was still not being sent back to the hold, and the pair were alone for the day. Yesterday, they had been employed scrubbing the decks and been whacked on the backside with even greater ferocity and frequency than usual.

The mad Captain Farr had watched their reddening backsides with more than his usual glee. He had also been eyeing Doris' firm stomach with appreciation. Hard work was keeping it in fine trim. He looked forward to the next meal he would eat off it!

After three hours they had almost envied the recumbent Marlene, staked out on Captain Farr's quarterdeck, her legs stretched as far apart as they would go (further - much further- than was comfortable). After eight hours they would have given anything to swap places with her, and there were still four more hours to go! It seemed an age before work was over and they were alone in their cabin. This morning, though, they had been told to stay in the cabin. They guessed that they were calling into port again.

"Poor Marlene!" said Doris, trying to think of something other than all the nice things Marcella was doing to her and had been doing all day.

Marcella took her face away from Doris’ pretty foot, whose toes she had been sucking appreciatively to the satisfaction of both girls.

"Forget her, darling! She's resting while we slave. And there's nothing we can do for her or ourselves. Let's make the most of this awful situation and enjoy each other while we can. I don't want to hear another word about Marlene!"

With this, Marcella returned to Doris’ metatarsals, cupping the heel and stroking the ankle bone with one hand while drawing the little foot close to her ripe red mouth which soon closed over it again. For the first minutes of their resumed love-making, she paid particular attention to the little toe, gently licking at it with her warm pink and wet tongue. Doris felt the roughness against her toe and squirmed delightedly. With her free hand she massaged the insides of Doris’ thighs, every now and again darting a finger to rub against the already aroused clitoris, feeling the love juices flow ever more freely as Doris surrendered to Marcella's attentions. She groaned again. Finally Marcella took her mouth away from Doris’ foot and positioned herself so that both could sink their tongues in the other's steaming, juicy vaginas.

They did not notice the cabin door open until the pirate had had a long good look at the splendid exhibition they were unwittingly providing.

"Having fun, girls?" laughed the villain, feeling once again that he would not be able to keep his hands off these beauties for very much longer. "I've got a new shipmate for you!"

A tall, fair-haired girl was propelled into the cabin, flying all the way across the small room and crashing against the wall. The door slammed shut.

Marcella and Doris disengaged themselves, not without reluctance, and went to help the newcomer.

"Are you badly hurt?" asked Marcella.

"Just a few bruises to add to those they've already given me, the bastards! Nice to meet you, Doris and Marcella! Where is Marlene? Is she the one on the deck? "

"Gosh! It's Miss FitzMaurice!" Doris could hardly believe it. "How did they get you, Miss?"

"Call me Angela, Doris. I imagine we'll all be getting to know each other pretty well before too long. You two certainly seem to be happy together! Do carry on with what you are doing! I need to sleep for a week! We'll talk when I wake up!"

In seconds Angela was fast asleep. The two were back at each other in a trice! But first, Marcella had to satisfy her curiosity. She spoke, her tongue poised to resume its busy work on Doris’ hungrily awakened clit.

"Do you know her, Doris?"

"Like you said earlier, darling, let's get back to it and cut the talk." With this they returned to licking out each other's cunts. Soon the newcomer was forgotten and the pair experienced one massive orgasm after another until they, too, were fast asleep lying on their sides with their mouths still level with each other’s pussies. As soon as they were asleep, Angela opened her eyes and looked at them.

She was not pleased by what she had seen so far! It was hardly unnatural that something like this would happen, but this was no way to go about escaping. She let them sleep on for a few hours and went over the unpleasant events of the last couple of days.

It seemed an age since she had woken after her night out on the town with the Wellings and wished she hadn't! Never in her life had she had such a hangover - and she was a big girl who could take her drink. The drinks must have been spiked. There was no way she could be in this condition, not even after a heavy session, and last night had been mild compared to some of the almighty binges she had had!

It was obviously daytime by the time she wakened. She could hear the traffic outside in the street and light was coming through a filthy window high up on the wall of the small room. On the opposite side to the window was a door - a very solid looking metal door. She realised the door was impossible to open even without trying to - you only had to look at it to see how strong it was! She rose shakily and was unsuccessful in fighting down the nausea. For some minutes she heaved and retched. From the state of the floor it seemed that she had been vomiting on and off all night. In the tropical heat and with the poor ventilation, the room stank.

Looking down at herself, she saw that all her clothes had been removed by person or persons unknown. Much of the filth in the room had transferred itself to her during her disturbed sleep on the bare and dirty bed. She realised, despite the absence of a mirror, that she was not looking her best this morning!

Wherever they had taken her, it was still in the town. To spirit her away as the others had been, they would have to conceal her. She determined that she must not make it too hard for them. She must allow them, whoever they were, to convey her to wherever they had taken the others. Once on the other end of the beam and in another time and place she would know what to look for. Awful though it was to contemplate she must let matters take their course. Her nausea subsiding a little, she sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

It was not until after three hours, as she guessed without her watch, that the door was opened to admit two large bearded ruffians. The room might stink of Angela's body and vomit, but so did they of their own particular vileness! Angela started to heave again and they left after putting a tray on the floor for her. As soon as she was able she ate the disgusting meal. By degrees she began to feel a little better and around midday the pair returned.

"Time to be moving my lovely," said the larger and uglier of the large and ugly pair.

"Make a noise and it'll be the worse for you."

"Do I get my clothes back?" asked Angela, her head still throbbing. The pair laughed unpleasantly and she became fully aware of her nakedness and their eyes on her for the first time. She went red and tried to cover herself, putting one hand over her crotch and another over her breasts. A blow to the face and a snarled command to keep her hands by her sides caused her to cease trying to hide her goodies from view. She continued to blush and they continued to look.

"She's a real beauty and no mistake! The Boss'll love this one," said the larger and more malodorous of the pair. His companion indicated assent by leering unpleasantly in the general direction of Angela's ample breasts, with a downwards glance at her golden bush and at her juicy pudendum which peeked pinkly at them through the undergrowth. Angela had never been alone and naked in the presence of men before and the experience was already proving to be worryingly pleasing in some ways, although horrifically unpleasant in others. The couple must have noticed this ambivalence.

"She knows she's a prick-teaser, this one! Maybe she'd like a taste of ours up that sweet young flue of hers," said the smaller.

"Let's get her packaged and you shut your stupid mouth," replied the larger. Angela was relieved. It was not totally unpleasant to witness the effect her body was having on the pair, but the thought of being penetrated by either of these two ugly and brutish bastards, let alone both, was quite horrible.

She made a show of resisting and was knocked out for her pains, coming round in the back of some rackety old vehicle as it bumped its way over the island's rut filled roads. She was blindfolded by this time and only the smell of the salt air and the sound of waves against the shore as she was finally hauled out of the van told her she was by the sea.

They did not take off her blindfold until she was finally on the ship "The Merry Maid" on which she had unsuccessfully applied for a trip only the other day! The blindfold was removed and as she stood blinking in the bright glare a blow struck her on the face. She saw that she was surrounded by a group of five ugly-looking cutthroats, none of whom looked particularly friendly. The one who seemed to be the leader turned to the pair she had first seen in the little room.

"Has she been a good girl so far?" he asked.

"She tried to get away, Mr Bridges. Bit my hand, the bitch."

Mr Bridges turned his attention to Angela. "You will soon learn to do as you are told, woman. I think your education in obedience can start now!" He addressed the other four.

"Give her a few lessons, men. The Boss is away for a day or two, so as long as the bruises are gone when he gets back, you can do as you like. No sex, though. You know the rules!"

Mr Bridges strolled off to get on with being temporary Captain, determined to make the most of his acting promotion. Angela looked at the men around her and saw them purposefully wrapping cloths around their hands. They clearly didn't want to hurt those far from delicate appendages as they slammed them ferociously into the unfortunate Angela! She was still feeling pretty sick and the thought of the roughing-up she was about to get didn't make her feel a whole lot better! To think she had been bored with her comfortable and well-paid job, with her pleasant circle of friends and her well-endowed, if complacent, lover! To think she had been anxious for a bit of adventure. Somehow the idea that "adventure" might possibly include being beaten by four large and very thugs had not figured in her calculations. This helplessness as she steeled herself to endure a very painful few minutes was the worst part of it. Up till now she had been setting the agenda - now she was in the grip of a situation she could not control. Then she realised that her hands were still free and that she had been trained to look after herself. She would go down OK, after being beaten to a pulp, but she could give one or more of these ugly brutes a bruise or two in exchange for the many they were about to give her.

She easily dodged the first blow and kicked back hard towards the smallest of the four, getting a thrill of exhilaration as she felt her heel come into contact with his nose and heard a yelp of pain. Her exhilaration was tempered a moment later when her midriff was hit by an explosive punch which took her breath away and almost doubled her up.

She was still a very fit young woman, though, and shrugged off the agony as she aimed another flying kick at the leader of the four - a man she had come to dislike very much indeed. This ruffian was aware by now that Angela was no pushover and he managed to avoid most of the force of her kick, which was as well for him as Angela had very powerful legs indeed and knew how to use them - as the broken nosed recipient of her first kick was all too well aware!

"Grab the bitch one of you!" snarled Ruffian One. "Keep her still."

It took them several attempts before the lithe and nimble Angela could be secured but it was inevitable that she would not evade their hands for long. She still had her feet free and got in a few more kicks before she was finally bound hand and foot and made helpless to avoid any of the blows that began to rain down upon her, coming from all angles. She had never known such pain and helpless fury in her life. Under the impact of the beating she began to slip into unconsciousness. All she wanted to do was lie down and not get up for a very long time - if ever.

"Stay on your feet, you bitch!" snarled Ruffian One, as he saw Angela sinking to the ground. "We'll decide when you go down! It'll be the worse for you if you don't stay up and let us have our fun."

Angela knew that he meant what he said. She had lost count by now of the times that his cloth-protected fists had thudded into her body, working his way from face down to gut and back again, as another of them worked on her back and yet another kicked at her shins. She guessed that she would be passing blood in her urine for days to come and prayed that no permanent harm would be done to her. Her body was just a crucible of pain. Finally they decided that enough was enough and a mighty blow to her jaw from the thug who had brought her breakfast sent her crashing senseless to the deck, her last sensation being a colourful display of stars before a merciful blackness descended...

She woke up. She realised, by the position of the sinking sun that it must be hours later. A combination of concussion and exhaustion had made her sleep all afternoon. She moved and at once regretted it! There could not be a square millimetre of her body that those vicious swine had not hit a dozen times or more. The merest movement was agony and she passed out again. The next thing she knew was being shoved into the cabin to see two girls making the most disgusting exhibition. To think she had come to try and help these two! But then she thought of Marlene and realised that she had, in the midst of her pain-filled beating, seen that young lady stretched out on the deck, her slender frame stretched so tightly it had made even the pain-racked Angela feel sorry for her. At least the Brigadier's daughter was made of sterner stuff than this pair!