Chapter 3
A Tree, a Beach, and a Chained Girl
"You're beautifully predictable, Celie. I wondered how long it would take you to show up." Marjory wrinkled her nose with amusement. "Come on, girl, let's have it. You think Elsie's going to die in that box, or maybe you're going to offer to take her place. I've heard it all before, you know, so make it good."
It was a bad beginning. I wiggled my nakedness and blushed in embarrassment. "I couldn't bear it," I said as forcible as I could. What you're doing to Elsie is indecent and obscene. It's terrible and not to be done to a girl. Not the kind of thing I would have expected of you. Please release her, she's had enough."
"How do you know she's had enough?"
"I've been down there watching. Some of it was horrible. She can't move and that dog does what he likes with her."
"Yes, that's the punishment. I'm sure Elsie will extract some pleasure."
I knew myself against a brick wall. Once again the whole business of captive girls and whips and punishments got the best of me. "You make me hate it here," I blurted out in anger. "This island's a beautiful place but you make it ugly with girls in cages, and whippings, and horrible punishments like that box! Please, Marjory, I don't belong here, let me go!"
"You're being silly, Celie, you belong here just as much as any other girl. If you're really all that unhappy, I can arrange to sell you to a brothel. Would you be happier there?"
"You know I wouldn't. Don't you see that. I've only been here a couple days and what I can see of my future scares me. Please release Elsie from that box."
"Would you care to take her place?" If I had wiggled before, I wiggled twice as much now.
Marjory held all the cards and all any of us girls could do was to get used to defeat. I wailed, "Of course I don't want to be put in that box. I think it's awful and horrible and shouldn't happen to any girl. Please forgive poor Elsie."
Marjory was enjoying herself. I really did think that she had heard all this before. With a sweetness that governed most of her speech, she slyly suggested, "I expect I could offer you other ways to buy Elsie's release. How about another whipping? Or that lovely skin still unmarked. There's you back, you know. And that hurts worse than your bottom."
I was curling up inside in pure fear, my mind a tumult of emotions. With the instinct of a child, I threw myself at Marjory's legs and thrust my head hard into her lap, trying to get my face out of sight. I had no hands, they were safely chained where I could not use them and spent my anger as best I could by wetting her dress with tears and offending her ears with sobs I could not control. Her fingers began a play with my hair until their tender touch brought me back. Her voice was soft and infinitely warm.
"You silly goose, I should have known better than to let you go down there and watch. You're new and take everything so seriously. But I'll let you get away with something just this once."
Marjory pressed a buzzer and when Allie appeared, issued a crisp command, "Allie, my pet, go and get that ridiculous girl out of that box, and put the dog back where it belongs. And give Elsie the whipping she claims she wants. You know Elsie so giver as many strokes as you think she deserves. I really don't care if it's six or sixty. Then let her go completely free. That will make a nice contrast and show the silly girl we have a heart."
I had listened and learned. Marjory pushed down my flood of thanks. "You should be happy now, Celie. But don't think you can cozen me again. In some ways you're a sweet child who easily wiggled herself into my heart. Try to keep it that way. Here, I'll release your hands so you'll have a bit of freedom, too. But I suggest you don't go down and watch Elsie's whipping. I don't want you running up here and complaining about that, too."
I could have kissed Marjory's feet. I scrambled erect, turned my back, and, when my hands were free, I said with a terrible sincerity, "Thanks don't seem enough, Marjory. Is there anything I can say or do?"
"The only thing I want of you, darling, is that you be happy. Never champion naughty girls, and never be naughty yourself. I expect Allie will want you to sleep with you tonight and you can tell her you don't have to be chained. Tomorrow is another day and I'll put you through a series of discomforts and restraints until you become like one of my girls. It really does get into your blood and you become one of us. It shouldn't take all that long."
After breakfast the following day, it was to Allie who took my arm but Gloria who was as naked as me. When we got out of the house she laughed at my bewilderment, explaining that the girls are often made to punish each other. And that even everyone's favorite, young Allie was not immune. She told me Allie often got herself into trouble. We were all one happy family.
I was happy and suddenly knew I was happy. Elsie had served her sentence, breakfast was a delight, and Gloria's hand was not clutching my arm but held one of mine in the manner of two girls out for a walk.
"Am I supposed to do something to you, or are you going to do something to me?" I asked doubtfully. "Surely we haven't been given this freedom just to have a walk?"
"I'm going to do something to you, Celie. You probably won't like it much because it's shockingly frustrating, but it's in pleasant surrounds and could be a lot worse. You'll do what you're told?"
"Oh, sure, I've been all over and over that. I can't get off this island and it isn't worth it to try and hide in the bushes. I'll let you tie me."
The clearing had two young saplings. From each a rope was hang and at its end a noose. My day of discomfort was now predictable.
"I'll show you how it works," Gloria said reasonably as she grabbed one of the ropes, planted her foot against the slender trunk. The tree bend. When she let go the rope, the tree straightened back up to send the noose dancing.
I got the drift and gazed at my companion in woeful resignation.
"It's even worse than you're thinking," she laughed. "Stand in between there and give me one of your hands."
"You mean you're not going to tie my wrist but just leave it in a noose? A common old slip knot?" I asked as she raised my arm to the circlet. She had to bend the tree over once more. When it sprang back my hand and arm went with it. I was then dragged to one side and the process repeated with my other hand and the other tree, to leave me in the middle with both saplings bent and pulling on my arms. The pull wasn't painful but it was enough to keep the slip knot tight. If I pulled the tree the tree came. I could even do this both hands at once. But when I let go each tree sprang back.
"You see, darling, it's always taut so your wrists don't have to be tied. You can tug at the noose all you like but you'll never get your hand free. These two trees are like springs. Do you want to chat a while or should I leave you to it?"
"Don't leave me like this, Gloria. Gee, I can't do a damned thing. I'm expected to stand her with my arms up in the air all day? Jeepers, this is no way to spend a day!"
"Don't fuss, darling, I said you probably wouldn't like it. I've had this one done to me and it's frustrating as all get out. Why don't you try and get loose? I know you can't but you still have to find that out for yourself."
I needed no encouragement. I twisted and tugged and squirmed, but could never achieve enough slack to get the rope off my wrist. Abjectly, I agreed, "So, okay, Gloria, I have to stand and put up with it. But won't the tug of these trees begin to hurt after a while?"
"Sure they will, but that's part of your Palm Island day. You can bet Marjory's up in the house and laughing. Would you like me to make you come? If I go about it slowly, we can kill maybe half an hour of your day."
I looked into Gloria's eager eyes and knew how easy it would be to say yes. In fact, I would have welcomed her playful fingers for the full term of my sentence, the whole day. But I was pretty sure I'd feel worse afterwards to be thus shamed. Dismally I expressed my thanks and regrets, then watched Gloria's lovely bottom wiggled as she walked back to the house. I was alone.
Whenever I felt like it, I pulled and then the tree pulled back. Try as I would I could get no slack and therefore not free myself. Once in a while I gave myself the luxury of a scream, which didn't help much beyond relieving some frustration. Slowly the hours passed.
I was overjoyed when Marjory walked into view to make a routine inspection of a girl in training to be a slave. Everything was now predictable, and my greeting was not very original, "Please untie me, Marjory! There's no way I can get out of these ropes. Please set me free."
Marjory had heard it before. She put her finger on my lips and said, "Naughty, naughty! You're not supposed to demand freedom when you know fully well your sentence is not yet over. Would you like me to play with your pussy and those lovely tits?"
"No, please don't! I'd only feel worse afterward. I've been standing like this for hours, surely you wouldn't be breaking any rules by setting me free?"
"Aren't you enjoying it, darling?" The question hit me like a blow because when I came to think of it, I'd been having fun. Every time I pulled, the tree pulled back. And every time I jumped around, it achieved nothing more than to stoke the fire burning in my loins. The heat was now very much a part of me and ceased to be remarkable. But in my silly contest with two trees, it made my inevitable defeat bearable in a way that once would not have happened. In surly fashion, I retorted, "So I've become infected, I'm getting pleasure in this sort of thing, just like your other girls. But I still would hate to be whipped. Yes, I had some fun, but I but I still wish you'd let me loose."
"You haven't been with us long enough, dear," Marjory said softly as she took possession of the area between my legs and bent here head to reach my nipples with her lips. Her free hand amused itself with my other breasts. It was a powerful stimulus against which I had no defense other than to kick and I knew better than to do that. Soon I was gasping and moaning as girls do when granted orgasm. I will admit her fingers and tongue were very good. Very good indeed! But whenever my gasping told her I was close to that orgasm, she withdrew her palm from my sex and took to kissing my lips instead. I'm ashamed to tell of how hungrily I kissed her back. Taking her time, Marjory eventually brought me to the promised orgasm into which I exploded with all the force she desired. Panting and fighting chaffed wrists, I was left alone to serve out the balance of my day.
The little trees played with me as children might play with dolls. No matter how I pulled, they always won the contest because I would tire out but they would not. In defeat I simply stood between the slender trunks to hope for nothing more than release. I was eager to return to the big house and Marjory's tenderness.
When Allie finally set me free, I could have cried aloud with joy I had gotten to where I could now really enjoy our formal dinner. Marjory was a fine hostess and Allie could be relied upon for giggles. Casually that evening there was inserted into our conversation one more shock.
"Allie has a favor she wants to ask of you," informed Marjory as she eyed my handcuffs with approval. "Allie, go ahead and tell her your good news."
Allie blushed but managed her standard giggle as she said, demurely, "I've been a bad girl and I have to be whipped, Celie. Marjory thinks it would be a nice idea if it were you who gives me my punishment. Please say you will, I'd like that so much."
They were laughing at me but I was not certain why. Probably it was the expression on my face for I was once more confused. "I couldn't possibly whip you, Allie," I said. "I wouldn't know how. And, anyway, I couldn't possibly bring myself to be that unkind to you. Tell me you're joking."
Allie's blush deepened. "Honest, Celie, we're not joking. I called Marjory a four letter word and said a few other things I should have kept quiet about. I really do deserve to be whipped and you mustn't let it bother you."
"The other girls have whipped each other at one time or another. I made certain of this because it's part of your training," Marjory explained. "After your first embarrassment wears off, you'll enjoy whipping the little so and so. Allie enjoys being whipped so you don't have to feel guilty about that."
"I absolutely love the first few stripes across where I sit down," Allie interrupted. "When you're doing it to me, you can tell. Marjory's being awful sweet about it."
It was crazy. My first instinct was to refuse, but they were both looking at me so lovingly that I could not have said no to anything they wanted. Absurdly there flashed through my mind the memory of the afternoon spent standing between two little trees and my body very much available. In my loneliness I had considered the idea of Allie mischievously cutting a few switches and using them to whip my pussy. I had dismissed the erotic vision as just a fantasy generated by overheated sex. And now, as I envisioned the vibrant teenager looking at me with such sparkling eyes, I knew that, for better or worse, I was stuck with a job I would have once deemed impossible. My sex burned brightly.
"I am not going to the bedroom because I want you two girls to do the job together. You won't need me, Celie, because Allie can tell you anything you want to know. It's a lovely idea and she's such a sweetheart. If I didn't punish her once in a while, she'd just become too much."
"Well, if you don't mind me making a fool of myself ... "
"Before we talk," Marjory sparkled at us, "I want to tell you, Celie, that you absolutely must whip Allie between her legs. She doesn't like that so it's highly beneficial. Isn't that right, Allie?"
The teenager sniffed and wrinkled her nose in distaste but said nothing. Marjory had evidently touched a nerve and we now switched the conversation to fresh subjects with Allie beaming at my embarrassment and me unable to think of much else. I wondered if I would be able to go through with it, but in the light of Marjory's assurance that if my strokes lacked vigor, I would receive the same punishment myself.
I didn't enjoy the coffee all that much. It was the first time I had seen Allie without her pretty handcuffs, but she carried them in her hand as we climbed the stairs to Marjory's bedroom. "You have to put them on me the first moment it's all over," she explained as she put them on the dresser. "I didn't want Marjory to take them off, it feels so funny. Celie, darling, I'm so grateful you're not being silly about this."
I was instructed on using the controls and with a little practice managed the up or down movements of the cylinder of memory. Now I was going to strap Allie's wrists were mine had once been. It was all beautiful and at the same time terribly cruel. The girl I was going to have to whip threw her arms around me before sedately standing on the fatal spot and fitting the young, slender wrists within the straps. Both of us were breathing heavily.
While I tugged at the straps we were standing close. I was flooded with vibrations while the teenager stuck out her slender wrists. And perhaps she felt my own vibes in return. Both of us were smelling strongly of girl scent in wave after wave. When I pressed the button to raise the darling's arms, I knew I had never seen anything more beautiful.
"Your courage holding up okay?" my victim inquired. "We mustn't let Marjory down so I'll have to have some fairly good marks to show when we go back downstairs."
"Who said anything about going downstairs?" Allie was suddenly afire.
"Oh, darling, you are catching on! You mean you'll keep me strapped up like this and whip me until bedtime!"
I felt a tingle race over my spine and my sex grew warmer. "Is that what you want, you little silly thing?"
"Of course it is, darling. I'd lover the first half and hate the second. It's a beautiful contrast. But I really would like to save that whipping up between my legs for the second half, if you don't mind. It belongs there for sure. I hate it!"
There was a fine array of instruments for the marking of a girl's skin. I was in a dither of apprehension along with a natural distaste for hurting this vibrant young creature I had strapped up. I chose the slenderest of the riding crops and, without a pause for thought, slashed it as hard as I could across the young bottom. The line of impact was first white, then red, and then crimson. I stared in horror at what I had done. The girl I had cropped tensed as though thrusting at an invisible barrier. She was suddenly panting and emitting small sounds I could not name. But while I stood transfixed, she looked back over an arm to show eyes bright with mischief and to whisper, "That was gorgeous, darling. Give me another."
My second blow was less panic stricken than the first but under an impulse I could not control, it was every bit as severe. With a gasp of pain, Allie accused, "You've done this before, Celie. You're so good at it, this can't possibly be your first time."
I was suddenly very much in charge. I did not have to answer questions. And, to tell the truth, I was very much on fire from the two wicked lines I had placed on her tender skin. With a force I'm ashamed of, I struck again to leave a third imprint. The result was the same, a scarlet line formed. I paused to meet this amazing child face to face, to say without thinking, "I've used a whip before in my life. There must be something wrong with me. I'm terrible ashamed but I loved it! Each of those terrible strokes was wonderful!"
I took the panting girl in my arms to whisper in her ear, "Nobody's told me how many strokes I'm suppose to give you. Tell me the number."
"There isn't any number, Celie, dear, just so long as you put enough marks on me to show that I've been properly whipped. Just think of it, I'm all yours!"
I realized the lovely teenager was infected like all the rest. And I must be infected because of the joy I felt in punishing this girl. I was almost panting as I envisioned how I could make her scream and leap in agony. Between us there was a force I could not understand.
Perhaps to ease my conscious, I demanded, "Do you really want me to go on whipping you like this? Tell me the truth."
"Of course I do!" Allie's tone was enthusiastic. "If this is really your first time, you'd better give me a stroke or two with everything in the collections. Don't ignore the straps, they give a quite different kind of pain. Get going, darling, follow the urge."
In some sort of carnal orgy I can't explain, I cut at the pretty young bottom with one wicked thing after another and found myself intrigued with the truly wicked crack with which the leather straps kissed the tender young bottom. Allie's tolerance was hard to understand, but her sounds and motions were pure beauty. And if I slowed, she always gave me encouragement to continue. She assured me she deserved her punishment. Dazed in disbelief, I did as I was told while the glow spread hot and heavy in my loins.
I could tell when Allie wasn't enjoying it anymore. Especially when a sad, young voice told me it was time to stop thrashing her bottom and find another target. I walked around in front and this time beheld a young woman desperately holding on to courage. My judgment was instant. "You've had enough, Allie. Why can't we leave it at that?"
"Because Marjory said you were to put some of the strokes up between my legs."
I shuttered, remembering my own pain. "Does that hurt you?" I asked, wondering if it was the same terrible pain for all girls.
"Oh, yes! It's the most terrible thing in the world! But, Celie, please don't quite on me now."
I stood there with legs wide spread and panting almost as much as poor Allie. There was a narrow leather strap in my hand. Something told me that it would be a better whip to use on her pussy than one of those thin thongs that would cut the flesh. But that narrow strap would hurt, I just knew it.
"Is this the best whip to use between your legs, Allie?" I asked.
"Use whatever you think best," was her reply. I saw fear in her eyes, but heard not a word of protest or instructions to use some other instrument.
Taping her thighs with the strap, I ordered, "Open your legs."
The teenager spread her legs wide as she could, which wasn't too wide considering that her wrists were high over her head and wouldn't come down. When she reached the maximum width, I took my stance before her and let the strap's end fall loosely to the floor. Our eyes met and riveted together. There was an exchange of messages, although later I couldn't put into words what we said. She knew she was going to suffer pain, pain beyond those earlier strokes which had brought her some sort of pleasure. This would be real pain and she would hurt. My eyes told her that I understood but would never think of holding my hand or easing the strength of my stroke. If a girl is to be whipped on her sex, it should be as hard as my arm could make it.
I swung the strap upward. It cracked and Allie screamed. For a few seconds she danced on air, feet wildly jerking around with no real purpose, just a reaction to incredible pain. I wondered if I had looked like that when my pussy was whipped. I just stood there, stunned, as I watched her contort.
When her dance calmed down, she turned her tear-filled eyes towards me and calmly said, "Thank you. I deserved that."
I gasped as shivers ran along my spine. I had never in my life expected there could be such intense emotions and feelings.
"Are you going to hit me there again," a meek, frightened little voice asked me.
By way of reply the leather strap in my hand ascended and the teenager again danced on air, her cry of agony echoing off the bare walls. I sucked in air and wanted to throw myself on the floor to grab my own sex with both hands. I don't think I had ever been so sexually excited in my life.
Twice more my strap cracked into her soft flesh, bring agony to the teenage nudity, and incredible pleasure to me. Finally, I did throw down the whip and went to the floor to lay on my back with legs wide spread and up in the air, knees bend. I quickly thrust a finger into my pussy and began a rapid, hard thrusting that quickly brought me to a mind-blowing climax.
Both Allie and I calmed down at the same time, two panting, moaning girls, lost in their own worlds of pleasure. At the time I hadn't cared whether the whole world was watching, but as I came down from the sexual high, I was ashamed to act this way in front of Allie. But if Allie had seen me do that shameful act of masturbation, she did not say so, neither than nor later. Her eyes were closed and her breathing heavy, whether from the agony of her burning sex or some kind of high of her own, I could not say. Perhaps both. Probably both.
I crawled over to the strapped girl and looked closely at her sex. The flesh was red and swollen and looked terribly sensitive and painful. It was beautiful in its own, strange way.
I was strangely proud of my work and told myself that Marjory could not possibly fault my work. I wrapped my arms around her legs and held the sweating girl tight against my own body. We shared something I could to words to. Perhaps it was love.
It felt right to leave her hanging there after I finished hugging her body to mine. I backed off to look at her body hanging limply from the straps around wrists. She wearily looked up and said casually, "Marjory will be pleased. I wasn't enjoying that last bit at all. You can do what you like with me this evening. I want you to do whatever pleases you the most. But, please, no more of the whip. Right now, I don't care if I never see another whip again."
I reached down and clasp her handful of her mound, hot from the impact of leather. When I massaged that part of her, she threw her head back and moaned loudly, while thrusting her hips forward to push against my hand. I quickly brought this teenage girl to a climax. I suspected she had been very close because it had taken only a few seconds to make her cry out with ecstasy and arch her body against my hand. I pressed back and squeezed to make her pleasure as real and intense as I could. Somehow doing that for her made me feel better about having whipped the poor girl.
I left Allie strapped tight for only long enough to let her loveliness seep into my consciousness, feasting my eyes on the youthfulness of her, and the strapped wrists on which she tugged from time to time as if to assure herself she was still prisoner. My sense of power vanished when I unbuckled the straps, and clicked snug the pretty handcuffs on Allie's pretty wrists. Everything was now back to normal and the bracelets confining her hands were a badge of office. I felt myself humbled and ashamed and in a mood to offer my own skin that she might be avenged. But Allie laughed away my silly notion and contented herself my using my handcuffs to lock my ankles tight together. It was thus we slept.
Whipping Marjory's young sister affected me far more than it affected her. Allie was her usual self the next day despite the purple lines and swollen puss. I was facing a face that on Palm Island there was a force, some terrible power, which entered a girl's blood to generate the heat which made us all long for the bite of the lash, or the opportunity to inflict it on another girl. I asked Marjory about it and she simply smiled.
I felt sorry for Allie at breakfast where she was forced to sit on her whipped bottom and do her best to avoid gasps and winces. After the meal, Natalie showed up, beautifully naked and totally without restraint. I was passed into her care. She was carrying handcuffs and I offered my wrists without being told to. Natalie wore a necklace of small gold links including a small handcuff key. She squeezed my bare arm in reassurance and led me from the house while I wondered what sort of "mild discomfort" I was going to have to endure for the day. Natalie was bubbling over with gossip as we walked towards the trees.
"You got the job of whipping young Allie, didn't you?" She chuckled as though the subject was amusing. "Did you enjoy it? Was slashing that cane across that pretty little bottom a lot of fun?"
"Yes, I did, and I don't know why," I admitted. "There's some awful influence at work on this island which makes girls want to whip or be whipped. What in the world is wrong with us?"
"None of us know but after you've been here for a while, you get grateful we get whipped and punished often. What you call "the influence" makes it bearable. And I suppose if we're honest about, our sex is constantly warm so we're looking forward to the next time. I'm glad it's affected you the same way."
"Why on earth would Marjory have her young sister whipped? Neither of them want to talk about it."
"Because young Allie has hot pants, just the same as the rest of us. She doesn't wear any pants but the heat is there just the same. Marjory wasn't angry, she was being kind."
"The poor kid hated being whipped up between her legs, she admitted it."
"I think that's done for contrast, and it's done to all of us. Otherwise it wouldn't really be punishment, would it?" Natalie laughed in rueful admission. "If I knew I was going to be whipped when I get back to the house after looking after you, I wouldn't feel all that bad. I would probably be pleasantly excited. I know that doesn't make sense but let's not worry about it."
It was a twisted old tree that had survived the sea and the wind a long, long time. It was only about ten feet high, but had many branches, none of them large, escaping its trunk as though searching for a kinder place in which to grow. In front of it was the ocean and the pounding surf, behind it was the forest. Natalie picked up a rock and used it to demonstrate how hard and solid the ancient tree had become. And giving me a suspicion how my day would be spent.
"It's a different beach from where you came ashore, Celie, but it's a pretty place, I've always liked it. I suppose you know what comes next."
"I can guess." My left hand was freed and the empty cuff snapped tight around a twisted branches at the level of my head. Natalie stepped back with an air of accomplishment.
"That's all there is to it, darling," she told me simply. "If you can get out of that handcuff, you're free to go back to the house."
"You know that's impossible!"
"I'd stay and talk, Celie, dear, but I've been told to go right back and just leave you alone to enjoy the view." She kissed me and turned away.
"Natalie, don't go! Don't you realize I can't sit down?"
"That's the frustration bit, Celie. Sorry!" It seems the lot of captive maidens to forever be watching their captor walking away. I longed to once more scream outrage as the forest swallowed the girl who had put me here. I stamped a bare foot against hot sand and hurt my wrists with a tug against cold steel. When I first fury diminished to a wry acceptance of my lot, I examined the ancient tree and the handcuff. I found no sympathy or weakness in either one. I experimented with sitting down but that was impossible. I couldn't even kneel. And, as if to mock my plight, the handcuff with my wrist was very much in evidence whichever way I looked. It was a situation in which a girl longs to scream.
The sun and sound of surf was soothing. I leaned back against a couple of branches and admitted to myself things could be a lot worse. I had not been promised the whip, the dungeon, or anything else in the line of what Palm Island described training. In the evening when I was freed, I'd have a lovely dinner with Marjory and the girls. And no doubt sometime during the day I would be visited by one or more of the girls. I was certain I would be brought lunch. Starvation wasn't one of the punishment on Palm Island.
I felt pretty comfortable and even chuckled at the thought that one hand had been left free just in case I felt the need to play with myself. Just to help the time pass, you understand. Maybe I had it good!
In the reverie taking possession of me I felt guilt over how little I thought of my previous life in the outer world. Memory of friends and relatives and the city where I had worked and lived were somehow fainter than they should be. Perhaps that "influence" that changed girls on Palm Island also changed their memories, softening the images and making the outside world seem less real than this island in the sun. Somehow I knew I would never see any of my friends or even my over-priced, small apartment again. Palm Island rapidly becomes a girl's home.
If someone tells you it's impossible to sleep while standing up, tell them they're wrong. Leaning against branches and the support of my shackled wrist held me up and I dozed. When I came awake it was to fine my first inkling of disaster — a faint dot on the ocean's horizon. It grew slowly and I felt fear gulch my heart.
I was wide awake now. I cannot tell why I felt only fear at the steady approach of a ship which might, after all, be able to rescue myself and all the others. But, prompted by apprehension, I called for help, screaming into the trees which absorbed my pitiful cries.
In pure panic I tugged in a frenzy against the handcuff on my wrist, bracing my foot against the tree and pulling with all I had. But the handcuff laughed and hurt my wrist until I had to concede defeat.
The ocean's rim is twenty miles distant. I gave up trying to stand and wait, and reverted to a frightened maiden struggling against her bonds in emotional rather than logical attempts to escape. But freedom was not allowed me. I would not be running back to the house to warn Marjory of this approaching ship.
I even worked a sizable rock free from the sand with my foot and used it to try and smash the handcuff from the tree. It was all useless. The rock crumbled but the steel did not. At the end I was as firmly attached to the ancient tree as when Natalie said goodbye.
Every time I looked at the ship, it was closer, seemingly directed to the place where I stood in frustration. By the time the approaching ship had begun to take shape, it seemed an arrow pointed at my heart.
It was not long before the ship stopped not far off shore, dropping its anchor, and launching a small power boat. I could make out three men as the small craft bounced over the waves straight at me. No doubt they knew I was there. I ceased to struggle. The small craft was pulled high on the beach and three amused males walked over. Rankin Teller was as sardonic as ever as he removed his cap to tender me a courtly bow. He inquired politely, "Miss Celie Collins, I presume?"
"You know damned well I'm not Doctor Livingston!" I retorted sharply, unmindful of the effect. "Please go away, please leave me alone."
Rankin cocked an amused eyebrow. "You wish to stay attached to that tree? I would have thought you would be grateful for a spot of male attention."
"Yes, I would. But not you. Look, Rankin, you damn near sent me to my death in that little dingy. Don't pretend to be concerned about me now."
"Oh, but I am, dear girl. You were never in danger. That little dingy brought you to Palm Island as surely as if it had been Rankin's Pride itself. I'm sure you got a kindly welcome. Or did you discover a key and attach yourself to this tree?"
"It's none of your business. Go away."
"You know I won't." I didn't like the way he was looking at my breasts. "I know all about Palm Island. Including all about Marjory Magnus, and her pretty little sister, who I'm waiting impatiently to grow up. Would you like to be released?"
"No, go away." It was one of the crewmen who observed jauntily,
"She's still got those lovely tits and breasts, boss. And I think her pussy is half as big again as when she was on the ship."
"She's been whipped something fierce," said another. "I'll bet you she thinks twice before saying no."
No one was in a hurry to do anything. Rankin seemed content to stare at my nudity and I couldn't hide a thing and didn't try. When he told me to turn around so he could judge how well I'd been whipped, I shrugged at him and did as I was told. I was scared to death.
"Shall we leave this one as she is while we go and collect the others?" Rankin waved the suggestion aside. "We'll take her with us, I want her to see what goes. But you can fix her hands, you've got a key."
My wrist was released from the tree, I was turned around, and both wrists locked snug behind my back. For a girl this is agony because everything she had is open for view, she can shield nothing. I stood there, naked and helpless and humble, awaiting the pleasure of the Male. My new captors were evidently familiar with the path. I longed to cry but did not want to show the weakness before these men. Remembering the treatment I had received on board his ship, I had no desire either to cross this man. He may say that I was safe in that dingy but I remembered some pretty large sharks for whom I would have been but a snack. If the boat had been tipped by a wave ... Or by one of those huge sharks itself ...
My worst fears were confirmed. Rankin was familiar with everything. We found Marjory in her office without hindrance from either staff or the girls. She looked up from what she was doing to stare in dismay. "Haven't I given you enough, Rankin? What do you want now?"
"You've got four girls and this one here. By the way, her name's Celie, in case you don't know. I've got a sale for all five. You can kiss them goodbye."
It was all slow motion. Marjory was breathing heavily and marshaling her thoughts. Bitterly, she said, "I'll give you one girl as a gift. Isn't that enough?"
"You know damned well it isn't enough. The market's booming and you've got a quality product. I'll cut you in for half of whatever I get but I want the girls."
I was very much just an observer, my main function seeming to be standing with my arms behind my back so the two crewmen could enjoy my nudity. But my concern was with what Marjory would do.
"You've been sensible before, Rankin," she said. "But you're being unreasonable now. I don't have to agree to what you offer. I refuse."
"Then I'll use force. Those two middle aged old assholes you use as a butler and gardener will be no problem. If they resist, I'll kill them. Smarten up girl, the deal I'm offering isn't all that bad. And I happen to know you've got another consignment on the way."
"I'm entitled to more than half."
"You've got no choice, woman. I'll just take what I want. Including that young sister of yours. Your little sister would be worth a fortune, she's probably still virgin."
Rankin was hitting Marjory with one broadside after another. I saw her flinch when Allie was mentioned and I'm sure Rankin saw it, too. Marjory still tried to reason. "If you do this to me now, it's the end of our relationship. You can't be expecting any more girls from me."
"I won't. I'll quit while I'm winning. You've been useful but you get yourself too emotionally involved with your girls. Are you going to be reasonable?"
"Not if you steal my sister and Celie. You steal them and I'll fight you with everything I've got."
"Don't be a horse's ass, Marjory. You don't have a hope. We can tie you and gag you right now, here in this office, then go about the job of rounding up all the girls. I'm sure I'll find most of them firmly and securely bound or chained in some manner. That is your custom, isn't it? You really laid on our welcome with little trixie here with one hand to that tree. You couldn't have been expecting visitors."
Marjory's breasts were heaving and I could see defeat in her eyes. One of the crew took handcuffs from his pocket and dangled them before her. I cursed my impotence and those male eyes which constantly every female feature I possessed. It was Marjory who broke the silence, "I'll buy Celie and Allie from you. We both have an idea of what they'll fetch on your market. I'll write you a check."
"No go, but keep trying."
"There's only one other thing I have to offer, myself. Is it me you want?"
"You're offering to spread your legs for these two pretty broads." Rankin laughed delightedly. "There's more to you than I ever figured, Marjory."
"Do you accept?"
"Hell, no. You're forgetting I'm not the least bit short of tail. But you give me an idea."
"What is it?" Marjory voice was toneless.
"Do a strip for us then ask me to give you a good thrashing. I expect you've still got that gimmick up in your bedroom?"
I could tell Marjory hadn't been expecting the demand but she evidently knew Rankin better than I. Her reply was instant, "I could say yes, but how can I trust you?"
"A deal's a deal, girlie. There's no way I've going to leave this little girl behind. You can keep your little sister, but I'll take Celie. After I've given you the thrashing of your life."
"I've never been thrashed."
"Then it will be a real novelty for you."
"Why do you insist upon taking Celie?"
"Hell, the girl was mine in the first place. I put her in that dingy to teach her a lesson. I'm taking her back to the ship to see how well she learned it." Rankin leered pleasurably at Marjory's tight, thin lips and stony eyes. "It makes the deal simple, you bitch. You keep little sister and I get to whip your ass. I figure you get the best of the deal."
Three men stared at two females until Marjory stood up behind her desk to say, without a tremor, "Very well, I accept your terms." She turned to me to say, "I'm sorry, Celie, I did the best I could."
My mind was a turmoil of emotions as we went up the stairs from the office to her bedroom. Rankin evidently knew his way around. But his men were so preoccupied with my breasts and bottom that, had I gone off in another direction, they would have followed. But I could have cared less. My mind was filled with disbelief as we mounted the stairs to meet with a frightful fate.
Miss Marjory was going to be whipped.