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With a plan forming slowly, she glanced down at her cotton panties and pursed her lips. She quickly bent and discarded the flimsy garment. She pulled on her cutoffs and was satisfied. Twin crescents of pale skin showed. Her young buttocks overflowed the pants nicely. She pulled the sleeveless sweatshirt over her head and grinned at her reflection in the mirror.

The old sweatshirt billowed loosely around her waist, but had shrunk short enough to bare two inches of midriff above the jeans. The faded blue denim cut into her crotch, outlining the twin swellings of her vulva. A peek through the armholes of her sloppy top almost showed the nipples that poked like fingertips through the well-worn fabric.

Peggy left the ketch, looking carefully around. No one was aboard the Green's big motorsailer, and the white runabout was gone. She was a little bit disappointed. Peggy had hoped to drive Bill Green mad with lust for her jailbait body, but now she didn't have the chance.

The white motorboat hadn't been there all day, she recalled. In fact, Peggy had only seen it in the channel, never tied up at the marina. She stopped, one foot on the edge of the yacht's deck. The runabout was a very common-looking craft, but there were none like it anywhere at the club. She and Tom had looked in every slip.

Peggy stepped aboard and tapped on the hatch leading into the motorsailer's cabin. "Hello? Is anybody here? Bill? Mrs. Green?" The little brunette peered around at the neighboring boats. No one was watching her. She tugged at the hatch.

It was open. Peggy slid the plywood panel forward along the top, then lifted the latch and stepped inside. She looked around.

Peggy's lip curled. This was the first boat she'd seen where everything was left lying about. All the others used intricate stowage neatly, keeping the confines uncluttered under sail or tied up at a dock. Towels and underwear lay on the countertop. Plastic plates jumbled in a messy pile in the stainless-steel sink. A huge revolver, a.41 Magnum, hung in a brown leather holster over the dinette. An open tacklebox spilled lures next to the table.

Peggy picked her way along the aisle. The door forward moved as the boat rocked in the slip. The slender brunette looked into the head as she passed by, then stalked into the main stateroom.

A yellow handle, the same color as the hex key ring, caught her eye. Peggy reached across the tangled sheets of the bed and picked it up. She turned the tool over in her hands and deciphered the peeling gold leaf etched into the handle of the screwdriver. Windsome.

That bastard! He greeted us nice as you please, and then he stole every one of Dad's power tools! A cold flame danced in Peggy's narrowed brown eyes. She looked around the floating bedroom, photographing every slovenly detail.

Peggy dropped the screwdriver. Heavy footsteps thudded down the ladder from the cockpit. She saw a booted foot past the half-open door of the main cabin. Her eyes widened in terror and she backed against the forward door.

Bill Green kicked the mahogany door against the wall. He glared at her, but Peggy's eyes saw nothing but the gaping pit of the Magnum's barrel.

"What is it, Bill?" Sherry's high, clear voice called. "Who's in there?"

"It's the kid from old Wood's boat. Come on down here, Sis." Bill lowered the menacing blind eye of the hand cannon. He looked the terrified girl over. He saw the yellow-handled screwdriver on the deck at Peggy's feet and his face hardened.

The huge-breasted blonde looked over Bill's shoulder. "What's she doing here?"

"Snooping, hon, and finding out too goddamn much. Should we teach her a little lesson?" Bill asked with a coarse leer. "Couldn't hurt anything. If we can keep her out of sight for two days, we'll be clear to hell away from here."

"What are you gonna do with me?" Peggy asked. Her voice trembled. "I haven't done anything. I don't know what you're talking about. I-I just came over to ask if I could have a ride in your little motorboat, and…" The little brunette stopped.

"How many other people have seen that goddamn runabout?" Bill hissed. His tall, blonde sister tightened her lips and shook her head. "I knew we should have stayed on shore. Between you and Janet, this whole deal is getting fucked up."

Peggy wondered what deal Bill was talking about. She glanced back and forth from brother to sister. "Using the runabout wasn't my idea," Sherry began.

"Ripping off this kid's folks was!" Bill snapped. "Now tie her up and we'll put her in the forepeak." Sherry squeezed past him, and Bill Green added, "Don't forget to gag her. Her folks will be back any time and we don't want her making any noise."

Sherry said, "Cross your arms in front of you. That's right." The voluptuous blonde moved Peggy away from the door and reached through for a coil of hemp rope. Her left breast brushed against Peggy's bare arm. It was hot and solid beneath the striped tank top Sherry wore, and her bell-shaped nipples were standing out, hard as pine cones.

Peggy watched wide-eyed as the blonde lashed her wrists together. Sherry's china-blue eyes gleamed. She licked her wide, sensuous lips and showed even white teeth in a lecherous smile.

"Those little tittiebumps are growing some, aren't they, honey?" Sherry asked, tweaking one of Peggy's nipples. "I bet you're scared to death some man will notice them and try to kiss one, hey?"

The blonde woman wadded a handkerchief and stuffed it into Peggy's mouth. "Anybody kiss those titties for you yet, honey?" she asked as she tied the gag in place. "Little girls your age are just ripe for sucking and fucking, even if you don't know it yet."

Peggy was frightened and very uncomfortable. Bill Green smiled as he watched his sister tie Peggy, and the little brunette watched the lump in his crotch grow longer and thicker.

Sherry's long blonde hair swept over Peggy's bare feet when the busty woman knelt to tie her ankles. Peggy looked down at the twin hemispheres of Sherry's butt. The tight shorts outlined her voluptuous moons, and Bill grinned at the cunty bulge showing beneath.

"That's good enough, Sis," Bill growled. "She won't be going anywhere." He put the long barreled pistol down on the bed. "You go get Janet and have her bring the truck. I'll put this little cunt in the forepeak and get all the gear we're taking along ready."

"Save some of her for me, Bill. I haven't had a pretty little thing like her for years." She pulled Peggy's sweatshirt up to her armpits. Peggy's firm little breasts bounced. Her nipples had crinkled with fear, standing in sharp, hard points. Peggy ducked her head, trying to hide, when Sherry slurped her long pink tongue over the brown pebbles.

Sherry yielded to Bill. The buxom blonde looked back over her shoulder as she left. She opened her sensuous lips wide and made a pussy-licking swirl with her tongue. Peggy blushed and squeezed her eyes shut.

Bill bent over and picked Peggy's eighty-four pounds up. He kneed the door open and carried her through two other compartments before setting her down.

The forepeak was a small triangular space at the bow of the boat. It was filled waist-high with sail bags and coils of thick rope. It was musty, the bulkheads close and painted a mildewed white. Peggy landed on her back. A two-foot-square hatch was sealed tight above her. The only light came from the portholes in the compartments further aft.

The coarse canvas of the sail bag she'd landed on rasped her back. Peggy was grateful for the brief decency the toss had given, pulling her sweatshirt down to cover her titties. Water slapped at the hull. It sounded as if she lay below the waterline.

The air was damp and cool. Bill stood over her, looking at the helpless child. Peggy tried her best to be defiant, but there was no way the trussed-up little girl could pull it off. The man was surveying her slender form coolly.

Peggy was glad she couldn't see his face. She had felt the snap of her shorts give when she'd landed. Half of her buttocks felt naked, with the clammy coarseness of the canvas chilling her tender skin.