"Told you I’d treat you like a slave," Terry chuckled. A nice cord tether I’ll lead you around by. But that’s all. Except for the long thin crop. I’ll carry that."
Dorinda was amused. It would be fun. The youngster was going to make amends for her previous failure. She would set herself right in her brother’s eyes.
"You’re remembering those orders, aren’t you?" she teased. "Put some marks on Dorinda where I can count them and make sure her wrists are chafed. Right?"
"Clever, clever," Terry laughed. "Sorry about the marks though. Sort of a closed season on marks lately for both of us. But don’t forget, dear. Amity attended to our backs and sides. She left our nice fronts quite virgin. Which bit of your front would you like me to whip, darling?"
Dorinda pretended to consider. "Could I have my tummy whipped, dear? Above and below is sort of holy ground for us girls."
"Can’t I whip your cunny?"
"Of course, mistress. Please whip my cunny," Dorinda laughed. "See, darling. I’m the perfect slave. Greater love hath no girl than that she offer her slit to the switch."
"You asked for it, sweetheart. But I’ll make you wait an hour. Keep you quivering while we take our walk."
Terry tugged the leash. The two girls walked side by side down the part through the trees.
They came upon a boat suddenly and without warning. It was in a tiny cove. Everything about it spoke of speed. It was sleek and beautiful and wicked. Sight of it stopped them in their tracks.
"Who the hell would that be?" Terry demanded of no one in particular.
"Just me, love."
The male voice was sardonically amused. It came from the rear. Dorinda was shocked. She swung round against her tether. "Mike!!"
He stood leering at their nakedness. Enjoyment vivid on his heavy features. Beside him a hefty member of his crew who Dorinda remembered all too well. He advanced with hearty bonhomie, hand outstretched to a bewildered Terry. "Mike Sandos, miss Esmond. Glad to meet you." His eyes roved her breasts and sex. He added hearty: "And how."
"You’re trespassing," Terry accused.
"Go away, Mike," Dorinda said without hope. She guessed.
Mike turned his attention to Dorinda. "What a neat package," he admired. "Even more convenient than the one I left." He took the leash from Terry’s nerveless hand. "Allow me, miss Esmond." He passed the cord to his henchmen. "Hold on to the lady, Sam." Dorinda watched, stricken, bereft, utterly helpless.
Mike produced a pair of handcuffs. "I’m sure you’ll wear these willingly?" The smile of invitation he offered Terry was the ultimate in benevolence.
Terry fought. How she fought! The helpless slave girl who watched her battle curled up in agony. The darling child had no chance. Mike handled her as he might have done a kitten. A minute later Terry stood panting and dishevelled, her wrists tightly locked behind her back. Dorinda wondered, irrelevantly, if the child had ever known the bite of bonds other than those she had sought in love.
Dorinda had wondered about Mike’s boat. It spelt money. The light craft that had delivered them into a new captivity was picked up by a crane and stowed away. Engines, already warm, throbbed. Kyrexos diminished over the horizon.
"Welcome to the ‘Quest’," Mike said with tremendous flair.
‘Quest?’ It was as good a name as any, Dorinda reflected bitterly. Mike was always looking. Now he had found her again. And he had found Terry. It was a good day for Mike.
Their host removed no bonds, They sat round the table on which drinks were served. The girls helpless, their host in full command. He lifted glasses to their lips. They sipped grudgingly. Dorinda almost felt like getting drunk to blot out the nightmare.
"You’ll be wondering about Mabel," Mike suggested pleasantly. "Bit of a bore is Mabel. After she had given me the gen’ on things on Kyrexos I decided the poor girl needed a change, so I put her shore on an island that I’m certain is inhibited only by gulls and goats. Mabel will make out. She’s that kind." He looked at a squirming Dorinda. "Didn’t think I’d forget you, honey?"
"Put Terry ashore. I’ll do what you want," Dorinda said flatly.
Mike laughed delightedly and slapped his leg. "True to form, honey. Virtue triumphant. You’re quite a girl. This charming child who leads you around on a leash is going to be tied to the rigging and whipped before the ship’s crew." He turned to Terry. "You won’t mind, will you, miss Edmond? Poor chaps don’t get much diversion outside port."
Dorinda was frantic. The cords that Terry had lovingly cinched upon her wrists hurt. They told her she was captive. Thrall to Mike’s wishes. She still bore the leash upon her neck. She knew he was glorying his importance.
"I know you lick each others cunts," he said affably as though it was a matter best disposed of.
"Let her go," Dorinda said hopelessly. "I’ll obey you now."
"Too late, honey," Mike guffawed. "You had your chance. But thanks for bringing me this little turtle dove." He looked at her bleakly. "You know what I’m gonna do to her, don’t you?"
Dorinda was silent. But she knew.
"I’m going to whip her and I’m going to fuck her to a fare thee well. When she starts to bore me I’ll hand her over to the boys." He laughed in genuine pleasure at the dismay on the faces of his captives. "Do you both good you prissy bitches. Thought you had your cute little cunts locked up in a safety deposit, didn’t you? You’ll find different." He winked at Dorinda. "You go to the boys right away. But first I’m going to toss you both in the brig to think about what lies ahead. At the end of the fun time I’ve got something really special planned."
Dorinda had seen the brig before. It made the dungeon on Kyrexos seem a commodious stadium. Terry cringed and clung to the older girl in horror. It was a small iron box with a narrow bench. It’s only decoration were the heads of rivets. One wall was curved to the contour of the hull. Each girl was chained to that wall from a steel collar round her neck. There was no porthole. The garish light bulb starkly accentuated the claustrophobic intent. They clutched and wept, their chains a metallic accompaniment to their tears.
"Will.. will he…?" The irrepressible Terry was gone. The frightened girl who had taken her place could not bring herself to name her fear.
"Yes, they will." Dorinda knew it useless to lie or hold false hope. Terry caught the plural. "You mean… all of them?"
"There’s four men aboard. They’ll use us."
"This thing about me and the rigging? Will he…?"
"I expect he will, darling." Dorinda was desolate that she could offer neither hope or succour to the darling child. "If it wasn’t that it would be something else. Mike’s inventive. All we can do is be nice and not rile him. If he gets angry he’s brutal."
"Can’t we offer… or do something…?"
"Darling, you see what slavery is like. We have nothing to offer. The man who holds you owns every bit of your flesh. A girl can’t bargain with his possessions.. We can’t even make an offer to be nice, or good, or behave. He can make you behave." Dorinda’s fingers explored the metal on her neck. "He can even influence the way you think." She laughed ruefully. "Mark was teaching me that and he’s absolutely right. His theory is valid. I didn’t believe it at first, but there is a slave mentality. It’s not that you have everything knocked out of you. It’s imply that you think as a slave. You stop having double standards. You do your thinking and your responses from within a slave’s limited viewpoint. Oh darling. I don’t want that for you."
"We did it to you, didn’t we?" Terry was seeing very clearly
"Don’t compare your brother with Mike."
"A sort of poetic justice. I’m going to get royally screwed. Little Terry gets her just desserts." She lovingly kissed Dorinda’s eyes, her fingers, fingers the nipples so close to her own. "Not to worry, darling. I’m no virgin. I ‘specs I’ll survive. Promise you won’t keep yourself in agony over me. We’re in this together."
They made love awkwardly, but with desperate intensity, upon the narrow metal shelf.