Pacific Penal Colony
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2013 by Midsummerman

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 12 - 'Lifers' and reprobates of various kinds are sent to a remote Pacific penal colony when they have embarrassed their government too many times by escaping other prisons etc. No death penalty existing. The island is made up of two halves; little or nothing is known about the other half, and as there is very little supervision in what is basically an open prison, meaning many prisoners simply depart at will for the unknown; the female Governor turns a blind eye to this: aware they won't return.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Coercion   Slavery   Fiction   BDSM   DomSub   FemaleDom   Spanking   Rough   Humiliation   Sadistic   Torture   Snuff   Black Female   White Male   White Female   Oriental Female   Oral Sex   Masturbation  

Rico met with little distraction as he made haste to the incinerator, he kissed the feet of two women dutifully, and felt a strange pang of regret as he thought of the magnificent red-headed Astra; she may have been his captor and owner in this brutal civilisation, but his cock swelled with a strange regret at the thought of never licking that delicious ginger cunt again. He came to his rational senses as he approached the incinerator and the two slender whip bearing guards who leaned against its wall, indulging in women's talk. It was busy today, several forlorn slaves passed each other, the two guards who were preoccupied with their chat, simply waving them in and out. Rico made his presence known to them; one of the guards was fully visible as she rested her shapely hips against the wall, she gave him a contemptuous look as he announced himself, and the other, who relaxed in a recess in the wall, popped her head round and gave him a similar gesture. One other trustee pet was within the darkness of the furnace room when he entered; he said nothing to Rico, who watched with interest as he left. On leaving, the slave made his exit known and the guard simply lifted her arm without turning. Rico dumped his rubbish into the furnace with all haste and moved out into the light again.

"Done here mistress!" Rico edged forward a pace and watched the rear of the guard; she lifted her arm and continued to discuss her day with her unseen colleague and did not turn, Rico dodged quickly back into the dark hot room. He went straight to the panel at the end and skinned his knuckles as he prised it away, squeezing into the narrow void beyond, before pulling the panel back behind him. The heat from the furnace wall scorched his back as he stumbled crab-like up the fallen brick-work toward the daylight which shone through the cracked rendering of the exterior wall. He fought for breath in the withering heat as he peered through the cracks; there was the cover of brush growing against the wall outside, and the cool air of the beckoning ocean breezed through the cracks. He put his knee to the rendering and groaned as his back went flat against the hot furnace wall; his anus tingled with fear at the noise as the rendering fell away. He held his breath, then clambered through the hole it left, his scorched back stinging with pain. He was momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight as he crouched down in the cover of the brush, fearful at being caught now that he had made it beyond the compound. The sound of waves breaking were as music to his ears; he must find that boat.

Rico kept flat against the wall as he made his way cautiously round the exterior, peering into the distance for any movement before darting from the cover of undergrowth past stretches of bare wall where none grew. After traversing about six hundred yards of the curved wall, his heart pounded as he spied the tall mast of the familiar boat at the end of a short wooden quay. It had been evening when he left, and though he welcomed the arrival of twilight and the accompanying darkness as he waited hidden in the brush for his opportunity, he was concsious of the time he'd been absent; someone would soon realise that he would not return from his duty.

Astra caned articles of furniture as she strutted impatiently about the villa, her whole body tensing as she fought with her red-headed temperement; her feelings were mixed, had he intended to run? Had he been delayed by an encounter with a woman whereby he had not shown humility? Worst of all, had he been executed by opportunist females, hanged or beheaded by them whilst in a drunken stupour or their wicked sexual lust having taken control of them? It would not be the first time a recognised pet had been disposed of that way. Either way, Astra was livid; he had seemed completely under her control, she picked up her favourite whip and stormed out to the stable. Moments later the furious redhead spurred her stallion on, scattering slaves and other females alike, as her charger galloped in a bee-line across the dusty compound as the sun set, heading for the incinerator.

Rico made a quick surveillance then darted from the wall to the cover of some palms; looking back to the wall, he could see a gated entrance and a watchtower on the wall above it; no sign of any guards or movement. He rushed to the ocean at the foot of the quay and dived into the cold surf. There was still a little light left as he swam beneath the quay from post to post, then clambered cautiously up to the decking when he reached the small boat. He squatted for a couple of minutes listening intently before boarding it, confident no-one was aboard the small vessel, he scuttled onto it. There was no way he could sail the boat himself; he had not a clue as to how, it was alien to him. He dodged about the small open cabin in a state of near panic; there must be somewhere he could hide? He began to sweat and thought about making back to the incinerator, when a board in the decking caught his eye. With bloodied torn fingernails he eventually lifted the board and was greeted by the putrid smell of stagnant water; no-one had lifted this in some time, there was just enough room to squeeze into the void between hull and decking, the fetid oily water lapping about his back as he eased the board back over him, lying still and panting in the darkness.

Astra fumed as she questioned the guards by the furnace; yes he had been there and yes he had left again. Astra went into the darkness and heat of the furnace room; whipping two pets who were in there, neither expecting her presence within the filthy refuge, and failing to sink to their knees quick enough. The cocks rose erect from their naked bodies as they tasted the whip from this supreme woman, exquisitely dominant in her present feminine fury. She stepped past their writhing prostate bodies and glanced to every corner; there was no sign of Rico and no apparent way out. The fuming redhead strutted out into the sunlight, raging; a passing line of newly captured males would know her wrath, their captors aware of the redhead's high status, they simply let go of the train of leashes on which they kept their naked and bound males, stepping back with half-smiles as she made her rage apparent. She unleashed her whip upon three of them, pushing them to the floor as they cried out under the sting that the whip left, suirming naked on the dusty ground. Now at her complete mercy, she cut them with her whip using every ounce of her venomous rage; the males knew their time had come, their captors smiling indifferently as they watched with a growing crowd of pleased females, Astra's whip tearing at their flesh as they grimaced across the compound and witnessed the fate of other males on the scaffolds nearby. Astra sighed with pleasure as one male convulsed in a mixture of pain and ecstasy, shooting his defeated tribute to her into the dust. As the three males writhed, cut and bleeding beyond any further use, she strutted over to one of their captors and took a scimitar from her; her cunt aroused with a mixture of blind rage and dominant spite, she swiftly beheaded all three, their heads rolling back past them down to the incinerator entrance. Now tearful, she mounted her horse and galloped off across the compound in search of Rico.

He had spent thirty-six hours in the discomfort of the bilge, at one point waking from a disturbed sleep wracked with cramp, the hot sun on the boat in daylight hours stifling him; he froze with fear as he heard footsteps above him and the thud of cargo being tossed on board, some scrotum filled sacks no doubt. He heard two women talking as the banging of a small outboard motor being placed reverberated throughout the boat. One pair of footsteps padded across the boat, making it rock as their owner jumped back to the quay; he felt the boat rock sideways as it was pushed clear, and the outboard barked into life, vibrating through his head as it rested on the boat's keel. The stinking bilge water lapped about Rico's body as the small boat bounced through the waves to deeper water, and after about ten minutes the outboard fell silent as the unfurled sails took over. Rico sighed with relief as the boat creaked in the Pacific wind, and slept peacefully for the first time in several days. He was awoken by the screech of woodwork against the buffers on the prison jetty. Footsteps padded about and the boat rocked as objects were removed from the deck; the footsteps disappeared and Rico waited, counting several minutes before he chanced his departure; though there were no terrors here as per the female captivity he had experienced, he was anxious to keep his escape secret until he'd seen that bitch Harriet Hawking. Rico was blinded by the bright daylight as he pushed the board clear, but the cool fresh air was more than welcome; he squeezed his naked body out from the stench and carefully replaced the board. He smiled victoriously as he looked out upon the open penal colony beyond, men tramping aimlessly about, and wrestled with the collar about his neck, unbuckling it and tossing it into the ocean. Without further hesitation, he dived into the surf to cleanse himself of the bilge, and swam to the cover of some palms on the beach. He squatted, dripping in the trees, awaiting the opportunity to make for the buildings he knew so well. The coast clear he headed for bunk room 15 and moved quickly in, closing the door behind him. There alone, sat old Jarvis who nearly swallowed the pipe he was smoking.

"Rico! You're back!" He began to laugh as he studied Rico's naked form.

 
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