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's 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 day dreaming, 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 keel-hauled. 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.