Today, no sight-seeing, no chlorinated pool, no cocktails just a long lazy sail around the island. Amy had decided to make the most of this last full day of the vacation. Tomorrow, Sunday would be tedious flights, and work on Monday morning.
Nice to be almost alone, just the skipper of the boat. Amy enjoyed the sunshine and the rhythmic slap of the sails as she relaxed to the backdrop of passing islands. Amy had grown up on the Maine coast, and this boat was a beauty, functional but tidy and trim. Her Captain something quite special as well - calm, knowing, bronze flecks in eyes of rich dark chocolate, cinnamon skin showing a trace of blush, a few wisps of grey in her finely platted and coiled hair, in all someone laughing with the sea, but never at it.
The warmth of the sun eased Amy's aches, the rocking of the boat soothed tired muscles, a sea shanty gently hummed, Amy rested her eyes just for a moment, but never quite opened them again, just enjoying the peace and ease.
The captain nodded thoughtfully and turned the helm for home, toward an island not found on any chart, a spot on the ocean that man's navies would sail over and never notice, just water. But when She commanded the island was there, only this sailboat could land, only this Captain could even find the Island, but real it was.
Amy slept on, the sea shanty had worked its magic, left her deep asleep.
Dropping the sail She coasted the yacht to scarcely bump as it came alongside. So gently not even a baby would wake. She picked up the sleeping Amy, slung her atop a muscled shoulder and walked up the gentle slope. The sleeping spell was powerful, Amy would not wake until commanded.
Some words Amy could not quite hear, could not understand propelled her into full wakefulness.
"Do not be scared, we mean you no harm, She who we obey, She who takes pleasure for all of us commands it so. But we will prepare you for the feast."
Their backs turned Amy bolted for the door, three steps she came crashing to the ground, a maid had snagged her ankle. The maids took her back to the room, no chances taken now. Stripped naked, handcuffs around her wrists Amy was shackled to the wall, showered.
"You can't do this to me, you can't keep me here, I demand..."
Amy's demands were muffled as the gag was pushed into her mouth.
Despite the brutal start the two maids were both efficient and kindly as they bathed her. Nervous when the razor appeared, but they evidently knew their trade and Amy's mound was baby smooth in a trice without a single scratch. They oiled her body top to toe, styled her hair and helped her dress. Despite the prison, despite the strangeness Amy enjoyed the pampering. A simple white linen dress, flat sandals, a good job Amy's breasts were firm and pert.
Finally satisfied the maids bid Amy stand, just as a deep bell started to sound. Nudged forward Amy stumbled slightly, adjusting her walk with hands cuffed behind her. The Maids were not taking chances after the last outburst, alert. Stepping from the dungeons she saw other women heading towards a Great Hall. Waiting together were a small group, six women in black cloaks, hoods raised, Amy could not see faces.
Brush lights flickered on the wall, long tables down either side were gathering women. Across the far end on a raised dais was a small table, one fancy chair and beside it a simple three-legged stool.
A moment's silence as everyone stood and faced the top table, from a concealed arch appeared a woman, the ship's captain. Standing proud in emerald green silk contrasting cinnamon flesh. A gold circlet, the single emerald centred on Her forehead.
Amy stumbled half a pace as one of the maids pushed her down into a clumsy curtsey, the gathering curtsied deeply before this woman.
"Please ladies, be seated. Bring Amy here beside me."
The maids escorted Amy to the plain stool at the top table, freed her restraints then stood back, wary and ready to act.
Food arrived, several maids were still on duty then, it looked fabulous, but then Amy had not eaten since breakfast.
"Eat, time for talking afterwards."
The Captain? Queen? Ruler? She was not to be diverted from the meal, pointedly ignored Amy's questions. Amy realised how hungry she was. Barbecued vegetables in a piquant sauce, fresh baked bread suffused with herbs, almond nut butter, bowls of ripe fruit. Amy was not scared, despite the abduction, the restraint, she felt no fear, no sense of malice targeted at her.
Sated, but curious Amy had loads of questions, she scarcely knew where to start, but just as she plucked up courage a drum started to sound.
Space was cleared away as the six cloaked and hooded figures glided to the middle, stationary and then a gentle sway to the music. Swaying gave way to purposeful gyrations, as the beat sped up, they caused the cloaks to lift, a glimpse of bright silks, metals and beads.
The pulse of the music upped, Amy, snatched from her admiration of the dancers, was grabbed, half dragged, half carried to the middle of the floor where they promptly fastened her to the supporting pillar. Now the dancers were around her. They were very good, cloaks gone revealing layers of sheer tantalising veils. More flesh was showing, the pace increasing. A pulsating rhythmic striptease with elements of belly dancing and blatant sexual coupling. Despite her predicament Amy could not help but lust and become wet.
