between my legs and a pair of tits. But, tell me, when you had me before why didn’t you whip me into submission then? You could have. You put me in that rotten little brig with handcuffs on my wrists and wondered why I didn’t love you. Then, just to put me in the right frame of mind, you toss me on Kyrexos.'
'You were an infuriating puritan. A little prig.'
'I wasn’t,' she flashed. Then looked at him, scared. 'Was I? Was that what I was?'
'You better believe it, honey.' He became earnest again. 'Tell me what happened. You can leave out the bits where you got fucked or liked the youngster’s clit. We’ll take’, for granted. Come on, tell me. If you don’t, I’ll whip you good. That’s a fair offer.'
Dorinda told him. Not all, but the substance of her enslavement. She found herself wanting to study it in perspective. What she told was no betrayal of anything that lay between herself and Mark. To Mark she was just an interesting slave girl in training. She supposed, now, she would always wondered what might have happened…
The owner of The Quest gave her his full attention. She had his interest. When she fell silent for lack of more to say, he remained deep in thought. Rousing himself he looked at his captive with glittering eyes.
'You know this guy’s method and theory. If I gave you a girl, could you train her?'
'Yes, I think so.' She was surprised how easily the affirmative had come to her lips.
'Okay. It’s a deal. I get the girls. You train ‘em. I’ll cut you in for twenty percent.'
Dorinda knew a strange excitement in her loins and fresh horror in her mind. 'Twenty percent of what?'
'Their selling price, sugar. It’ll be plenty.'
'Sell girls!' Evidently the rumours held truth.
'Come off it. Don’t play naive.'
'But where do you get them?' She was frankly curious.
'Got you, didn’t I? Got young Terry. Got Mabel but let her go.' He sat up amused and laughed. 'Good gosh. We’ll have to go back and pick Mabel up. She’d fetch a fidy sum.'
'But the police? Their families…?'
'So what? All of you I just named have disappeared. Might be an inquiry or two. Nothing serious. Girls are always disappearing. The police are sick to death of hunting little bitches with hot pants. As far as I can see it’s the favourite teen-age female ambition: hunting cock. They call it falling in love. I’ve come to hate the little sluts.'
'They chase you?'
'Honey, this ship’s had more teen-age poon tang on it than it’s had diesel fuel. I think some would pay to get aboard if you sold tickets.'
'Why bother with girls like me and Terry?'
'Because you are at least girls. Those horny little minxes are just one big sopping wet cunt. Their holes are so damn dig they are not even a good piece of tail!!' Mike grinned at a private thought. 'Sure be a treat to watch you whip their little arses. Wouldn’t bother my conscience none.'
Dorinda felt guilty at an exciting prospect. How did these things creep up on a girl? A delectable vision of rows and rows of naked moppets, and herself with a lovely limber cane, rose before her eyes. 'All right,' she agreed. 'Let Terry go and I’ll do it.'
Mike sighed. 'Bend over the chair, honey. Good place as any. I warned you…'
Dorinda sighed too. He had warned her. She had asked for it. Dutifully, but not happily, she draped herself over the furniture.
'Six if you behave. Twelve if you don’t.' From somewhere he had produced a quite frightening cane.
It taxed all of her fortitude to take the six cuts. She deliberately gave him the expected vocals and the sensual motions. The end result was to be expected. She serviced him to the best of her ability in that capacity too. She felt inordinately proud of his response.
'You are quite something, honey.' He sat back in his chair, studying her as she shook her hair back in place and resumed her seat and attentive mien. It was obvious that her bottom hurt. 'You get me riled on purpose.'
'No! Oh, honestly I didn’t! I don’t know why we girls have to be the way we are. To see what we can get away with I suppose. I can almost agree, we have to be whipped to keep us in line. Under the circumstances I think I should say thank you.'
'Maybe you like it?'
'No I don’t. I could have curled up and howled.'
'The little trick you’re in love with: she loves it.'
How did he know? Mabel of course. 'Yes, she gets a sensual thrill out of having her bottom caned. Perhaps even what you just gave me. Beyond that, she suffers like the rest of us.'
'So the day on the deck with the boys having a slash at her won’t deliver her horny to my bed?'
'Probably the reverse. The poor kid will be exhausted. You sure have some quaint ideas.'
'Want to bend over the chair again?'
'I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I don’t like being whipped. But if we are to get anywhere together I have to be able to talk.' She gave him a wry grin. 'Maybe I won’t pick up more than a dozen strokes a day.'
'There was a question before the house, honey?'
'I’d love to, Mike. But please! Take Terry off the hook. Let her be my helper. Don’t make either of us receptacles for your crew’s sperm.'
'Bend over the chair, honey.'
Dorinda obeyed mutely. Implacable Mike. He gave her three brutal cuts. She gave him all the expressions of her distress. She wept. It was all hopeless.
'Never asked you up here in the first place,' he said testily. 'Go and tell your little honeypot about her wonderful future.'
His name was Cuthbert. They called him Cuth. He was too young, too pimply and minus a chin. Terry was quite sure he must practise self abuse and eat the wrong food.
He look at her with lust.
'You are very pretty.'
'Thank you.' She almost added ‘kind Sir’.
'I’d like to fuck you. But you belong to the captain.'
'So I understand.'
He examined her with interest. 'I’ve never seen a girl’s cunt before. Just fancy, all heart shaped.'
'That’s the hair.'
'Lots of stories about them things.'
'I’m sure there are.'
'That true that they reach out and grab a chap’s cock?'
'Mine doesn’t. Haven’t you ever been inside?'
'You mean had a piece of tail? Can’t say I have.'
Terry now felt certain about the self abuse. 'Aren’t you going to sample the girl on call today?'
'Oh, I think I might all right. But I don’t like to.'
'You don’t have to ask. Just do it.' Terry felt guilty but safe.
He wrinkled his nose. 'Something inside there that… you know.'
'No, I don’t know.'
'Well, takes hold of a feller. Heard tell of a chap couldn’t pull it out.'
'Are you this cautious in everything?'
'No sense looking for trouble.' Cuth sounded hurt. 'Maybe I should whip you.'
'Dare you take the risk?'
'I think you are pulling my leg. Anyway, I’ve never whipped a girl.'
'Aren’t you afraid of catching something?'
Her whipped her twice. Very hard, as though to assert the manhood she doubted. He watched her tug against the cords and heard her gasp. 'I got a great big hard on,' he said, surprised.
'I’m sure there will be a knot hole around somewhere,' suggested Terry helpfully.
Cuth went away, walking awkwardly.
Dorinda was not sure whether she found the sight of land reassuring or ominous. She felt better than the day before. She had slept holding a sobbing girl within the haven of her arms. Make had not retained his perquisite beyond evening. The collars round their necks had a familiar feel. Thus all things become comparative. ‘The Quest’
