Chapter 10

The fires were burning brightly on the island of the headhunters. The families were in a quandary because of Nikki's defection to follow her sister to the island of the civilized intruders. Her brother was so incensed that he vowed to bring back not only the heads of the nine Western castaways but also Nikki and her sister as well. It was a blood debt now and not just a vendetta against outsiders.

Back on Gallagher's Island, the band of sex-obsessed castaways coupled in stunning ignorance of their impending doom. Mrs. Candleford had become enthralled with Scotty's impressive cock to the point that she was following him around like a puppy on a leash. Poor Gallagher was trying his best to stay faithful to his pregnant headhunter spouse but the new arrival of more pussy made him aroused beyond his ability to control his genital urges.

While the headhunters were sweating with the struggle to keep up with the beat of the drum marking their paddle's rhythm, the coconut brandy soaked residents of Gallagher's Island were copulating like bunny rabbits on the pristine white sands of the little lagoon. Mr. Candleford ceased to make any attempt at all at pretending spousal fidelity and moved from female to female like a butterfly searching for the perfect landing spot.

Strangely, it was Gallagher's wife who brought them to their senses. She was much attuned to the way of the headhunters and she knew that retribution would be both swift and merciless. It was her recommendation that they all crowd onboard Scotty's black cruiser that saved their lives. Scotty weighed anchor and they drifted without engaging the engine to a distance about two kilometers from the beach and waited in the dark to see if the native girl was correct in her assessment.

The sight of the silent party of well-armed headhunters moving along the white sands in the light of the full moon made Doris Candleford swoon right down to the deck without saying a single word. Scotty let the current take them further out to sea and they circled around to the other side of the island after they were a safe distance away. The Skipper and Mr. Candleford got into a heated argument about the feasibility of staying close to the island for a recovery of their equipment and food supplies.

Gallagher and Scotty stayed out of the argument even though they both felt it would be better for them to get as far away as possible. The Professor was not even listening because he was so distracted by his joyful groping of Tricia's heart-shaped hind-quarters.

It was the sound of angry drums drifting out over the dark waters that decided their argument. The cruiser sped away from Gallagher's Island at full speed burning valuable fuel but putting them a safe distance from the wrath of the headhunters.

Gallagher noticed in the early morning darkness that the boat was headed more on a southerly course and not Northeast as he would have expected for a return to the waters around Miami. The Skipper noticed it as well and they both confronted Scotty about the strange course he had set for a return to civilization.

Mr. Candleford was busy trying to hump poor Essie and Lovey at the same time on the wheel-house deck and seemed totally unconcerned with the three-way conversation. Everyone else was sound asleep.

"Scotty my lad, please tell us where are we laying a course to? We can see it is obviously not to the mainland because Florida is in the other direction."

Scotty put his finger to his lips warning them to keep their voices lower. Apparently, he did not want anyone else to witness the conversation despite the fact everyone was sleeping except for the ass-focused Mr. Candleford and Essie and Lovey, the blonde and brunette bookends on all fours beneath him. They all moved out onto the windswept deck that muffled their voices and allowed them to converse in private.

"I wanted to let you lads in on the deal but things happened so fast I didn't have a chance to fill you in on the details."

The Skipper and Gallagher moved closer showing their keen interest in Scotty's story.

"Tricia and I were putting in some provisions down at the "Pirate's Den" near old Tortuga Key when she overheard some dodgy sailors talking nonsense about a "Treasure" near the Venezuelan coastline. She told me that she would get up tight with them and find out all she could about where it was located."

Now the other two crew members were really interested and pumped Scotty for more information.

"She is a good girl like that and managed to get them to open up to her with all the juicy details. One of them even drew a map with the location on the island where it is located. She had to give up her tight little brown eye to get the leader to admit to her that the treasure was protected by the Venezuelan secret police that were safeguarding it for the Supreme leader. Now that the great one is no more, they are inclined to steal it for themselves, but are afraid to make a move at such an unstable time."

The Skipper was so excited at the prospect of finding a fortune that he discounted any mention of danger and persuaded Gallagher to go along on the promise of an equal share.

They were running low on fuel when they came up on an artificial island in the ocean. Actually, not an artificial island but a manned giant oil rig with several small craft tied up to the steel girders rising out of the water like some alien spacecraft.

Gallagher was surprised to see several females hopping from boat to boat like little grasshoppers looking for a snack to eat. The Skipper laughed and informed him,

"Those little cunts are bait for the workers to spend their wages. Some of those guys drop their cash into those pussies like they were playing a slot machine at a Caracas casino. The poor girls belong to the head honcho on the rig and it is his way of keeping the men happy and making money at the same time."

The Skipper scampered up the ladder like a much younger man and after a quick conversation with the assistant rig manager he managed to effect a trade for a re-fueling of their tanks for a combination of cash and the use of two female pussies for the upper management males who had tired of the sluts being transported from the Caracas brothels.