Idnapped and Defiled

Deep Blue

With apologies, and homage, to John D. MacDonald

The handcuffs were looped over a pipe that traversed the ceiling of the boat's main cabin. It was a sizable space, the ceiling high enough to oblige Lois Atkinson - recent divorcee, migrant from the East Coast, modest trust fund recipient - to stand slightly on tiptoe to ease the pull of the metal bands on her narrow, fine boned wrists. Her long, tapering back, slender limbs, flawless pale skin, and round buttocks that were in some contrast to her general slight build made a pretty picture; especially since she was completely naked. The cabin was warm; the small cove where Junior Allen had anchored the cruiser was anchored in a remote cove not far from Bimini, and the sea breeze compensated only slightly for the tropical humidity. The temperature, however, was the least of Lois' concerns; instead, twisting against the handcuffs' confines, she looked apprehensively over her shoulder, at the stocky figure behind her, equally naked but unfettered.

Her long dark hair accented her white skin; her unusually large dark eyes were opened wide with a fearful anticipation. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry; Fancha had rolled her panties into a ball and stuffed them into her mouth, sealing it with a wide strip of duct tape. The white skin of her perfect buttocks was marred only by the reddened outline of a large hand print; a sheen of sweat moistened the graceful hollow of her back. As the other approached, Lois began to shake her head violently and attempt to speak through the gag; but only a series of muffled sounds emerged. Fancha - a stocky, brown skinned Haitian harlot, possessed of a surface attractiveness, with swollen lips and a provocative pair of breasts - approached the helpless Lois and looked her up and down. As she did so, she gently switched the lithe cane she held through the air.

"Don't you look pretty there, lil baby. You's a sweet little ass, that's for sure. But you haven been actin friendly; not friendly at all. You need to love Fancha; give me some of that sweet white pussy. Junior says you still acting all high an mighty; he says I has to 'struct you in how you ought behave. An' you know we has to do what Junior says.

I'm lookin forward to teachin you how to act; when I'm done with you you going to give me anything I want, and be glad to. You bin a rich, hoity toity lady; but not no more. You our little bitch now; Junior say so. It's going to be fun teachin you; an I got the feeling I won't be done till long after you wish I was. You be beggin me to let you love me. No more" - and here she mimicked Mrs. Atkinson's East Coast tone - "I will not do that. You be doin everything, for sure."

Lois instinctively flinched from the menacing figure; but her bonds limited her movements to a couple of steps. Sensing the piercing gaze of the other woman on her unprotected behind, she attempted to turn away. Fancha giggled at her helpless attempts at evasion; swung her powerful arm back, and the cane cracked across the precise center of Lois Atkinson's soft , naked, beautifully rounded buttocks, driving a strangled scream from the unfortunate victim and causing a pink weal to spring up immediately across the tender flesh, while the young woman danced in a frenzy from toe to toe in a hopeless effort to calm the sharp agony that seared her ass.

As her victim slowed her writhing, Fancha stepped forward and grasped her buttock cheek. Pressing her coarse haired bush against the girl's yielding flesh, and wetting her powerful fingers in her mouth, she explored Lois' soft pink anal entrance. She slid first one finger, then another, into her rectum, explaining with pleasure at the close velvety smoothness that her rough touch encountered. Lois squealed in pain and indignation through her gag; but her desperate squirming could not dislodge the invading digits. Fancha began a slow, deliberate caressing of the bound girl's most secret place; as Lois struggled a soft squelching noise was heard. Humiliated, Lois ceased her attempts to free herself of the intrusion; Fancha leaned forward and nipped her victim's pale shoulder with her strong, stained teeth, then thrust a wet tongue into Lois' soft, shell-like ear. Dropping her cane, she grasped and fondled the girl's breast; in spite of herself Lois' nipple grew hard under the rough caress.

"Does that feel good...peut-etre a lil bit? Junior said he broke you in good back here; maybe you a little sore. I 'member the first time they did it to me, in the House in Port-au-Prince...didn't like it one bit th' first time, but now it's my favorite...except for havin a pretty young white girl use her mouth on me. You going to learn to do that the ways I like. You going to put your tongue up my ass, too, you. But maybe I decide to just whup you till you no use for anything, and Junior leave you back in the swamp for the gators. That's fun too."

Grinning with pleasure, Fancha brushed her fingers down the soft, cringing stomach in front of her, then slipped them into Lois' soft pussy, where a steady, skilled stroking commenced, coordinated with the in and out motion in the girl's anus. Lois began to moan and squirm, and Fancha felt a sudden wetness in front. Laughing mockingly, she stroked the girl's clitoris, which began to stand up For a few moments more she probed her victim both front and back; then stepped back, released her grip, picked up her cane, and swung her muscled arm back.

"No, not yet, missy. You going to come, all right, but not yet. First, we got your lesson."

The cane struck Lois hard, at the exact point where her buttocks met her thighs. Lois screamed through her gag, and a new stripe joined the original bar across the soft pale flesh.

Mrs. Lois Atkinson had fled Connecticut to the tile-and-glass new house in Candle Key after her very short-lived marriage fizzled. Sensitive and lonely, she had hoped for a new start. Her now ex-husband had seemed a good match: handsome, well educated, from the same social background of upscale East Coast suburbs and private schooling. They had dated for only a few months before he proposed; Lois accepted, though she reflected ruefully that it was the idea of marriage that swayed her more than her fiancé.

After a lacklustre honeymoon, where neither party seemed able to overcome their shyness, it was a very short time before Lois - in a moment of startling revelation - was idly observing her partner at a Christmas cocktail party when she witnessed him delivering an unmistakable caress to another male guest of their mutual acquaintance. Confronting him that night, he acknowledged nonchalantly that he did indeed have a romantic relationship with the other man; that he had always known he was in part, if not entirely, queer; and that while he regretted misleading her, his principal reason for marrying her had been in response to pressure from his family. They agreed to file for divorce; a shell-shocked Lois fled the state, carrying with her at least a suspicion that the marriage had failed because she was a bad wife.

Candle Key was unpleasantly hot and she felt isolated in her shiny new home. It had been while getting her car serviced that she first encountered Junior Allen; a deeply tanned, smiling, very confident Southerner - from near Biloxi - whose pleasant manner created an opening in Lois' fragile reserve. It was as if Allen - quick, formidable, of immense physical strength - had identified her vulnerability and targeted her as a lion looks for wounded zebras. Her formal manners were no match for his outwardly civil assertiveness; desperate for a friend, she yielded to his importuning.

They met for a cocktail in a dark lounge near the beach; striving for a confident manner, perhaps sensing her peril, she had one martini too many on an empty stomach. Solicitously he insisted on taking her "to lie down" and drew her out into the deserted, palm-lined road; she staggered along, supported by his muscular arm, too sick to do anything but keep her balance, stopping twice on the way to throw up. Junior did not appear in the least perturbed; he coaxed her along, muttering small endearments, until she focused enough to register that she was now on his boat. Where did a gas station mechanic obtain such a large cruiser, she wondered momentarily.

Smiling and chuckling, he drew her into the darkened cabin. There, brushing aside her fluttering attempts to resist, ignoring her pleading, he deftly peeled her out of her light, now stained summer dress, snapped her bra, stripped off her panties and lifted her as though she were weightless onto the large bed that dominated the cabin. Events became blurred.

She woke later in a daze, amid damp and tousled sheets, her head pounding. Disoriented, she collected her thoughts and slowly remembered where she was. The memories of the night crashed down on her. Stripped naked, she had been placed on her back, while a happy Junior arranged her long, slender legs on top of his very broad shoulders so that she was helplessly presented to him. He immediately entered her and drew a strangled gasp as he plunged his rigid cock to the hilt. He plundered her thus for what seemed an eternity; flipped her over as if she were a child's doll and fucked her doggy style before returning her to her original position. It had been so long that her body did make some response; she became wet and gasped as his cock thrust deeply, withdrew, then thundered back. But she must have passed out shortly thereafter; she did remember his exultant, snarling cry as he spurted his seed into her.

Looking over, she saw his broad chest moving slowly. His face seemed curiously expressionless as he slept. Slipping as quietly as she could off the bed, wobbling slightly, she looked around for her clothes. A trickle of liquid ran down her thigh; appalled, she wiped it away. Her rear ached; she recalled that Junior had repeatedly fondled her secret opening while he fucked her, so that she had weakly struggled to lift herself off the intruding fingers. Naked, she wobbled across the deck. Before realizing she was being watched. She turned and attempted to cover her breasts and neatly trimmed pubis with her hands; an alert Junior, immensely muscled, fresh as a daisy, grinned at her.

"Good mornin'. Don't be in such a hurry. I want you to come back here for a little while. Then you can make us some coffee."

Lacking the will to deny him, still queasy and weak, she reluctantly turned her steps. Cat-like, he swung his legs over and sat on the edge of the bed. His naked body, broad and strong, was deeply tanned and bore a number of crude, aged tattoos. She noticed fearfully that his cock - of average size - was tumescent and shiny with what she realized must be her secretions.

"Kneel down there. Take me in your mouth and suck."

The request took a moment to register in her not-fully awake mind. As it sank in, she realized its import. Increasingly frightened, she could only shake her head violently. While she had heard of this act, and even attempted a fumbling attempt on her honeymoon - which met with little enthusiasm - the prospect of performing such an intimate attention on this powerful, intimidating, impenetrable figure was unimaginable. Shaking her head in a mute appeal, she stuttered "But I can't do that."

Still smiling, he came instantly to his feet and seized her tangled, but still lustrous hair tightly. Protesting, crying out, she was pulled onto his lap where he placed her face down, her long legs trapped vice-like between his powerful thighs. Brushing aside her feeble resistance, he effortlessly secured both her slender wrists in one shovel-sized hand. "Now little lady, here's your first lesson."

Her pale, beautifully rounded buttocks were presented to his gaze; she was utterly helpless in his grip. Terrified, she craned her neck back and beseeched him to let her go. Instead - still smiling pleasantly - he raised one broad palm and brought it down with appalling force on her bared bottom, so that she screamed piercingly, in shock, pain and humiliation, transported back suddenly to an early memory when she had been punished for some childhood offence.

His hand burned like fire, and she writhed in the relentless grip of his iron legs. He began to spank her steadily and methodically, rhythmically delivering stinging slaps, now on the side of her buttock, now straddling both cheeks, sometimes repeating on the same spot, which quickly became violently sensitive. Her shrieks of pain and indignation served only to bring a smile to his face; he held her effortlessly and punished her wherever he chose. The agony of her tormented flesh washed over her in waves; her furious shrieks and threats of official retribution soon changed to pleas for mercy. Both were equally ineffectual in stemming the relentless spanking, for which Junior's large hands and thick, coarse skin were admirably adapted.

The smacks echoed around the cabin; her pale skin glowed a bright pink as she twisted and cried out. Finally, as the steady punishment continued without let up, she was reduced to hopelessly weeping like a baby, her finely molded features beslobbered with tears;. Even so, the powerful blows continued to resound off her flesh, until with one final mighty smack, which left the outline of his hand on her flesh, he ceased the punishment. He was not even out of breath, while Lois shook and shuddered, her gasps and sobs only gradually lessening.

He let her slip from the grip of his thighs, and she slid to the ground, her naked body curled in a fetal position. He allowed her a moment to catch her breath; then, gripping her hair again, he drew her to her knees. "You all could have avoided all that, little lady. Now do as you were told...unless you want some more." Kneeling submissively before him, she observed through her tears that he was fully tumescent. Gingerly she gave a quick kiss to the tip of the cock that touched her wet face; a cruel yank of her hair advised her to open her mouth and accept him.

Admitting him, she attempted a clumsy oral caress; when she inadvertently scraped his shaft with her small white teeth, he tugged her hair back, then suddenly yanked it violently up, sending a stab of pain across her scalp. "Cover your teeth with your lips, and use your tongue." She followed his orders and began to suck him, licking the length of his cock, then taking it deeper. She recoiled when she encountered the sticky residues coating it; but by then he was holding the back of her head and steadily fucking her face, penetrating further into her with each stroke.

She began to gag, but he simply continued his intrusion; she regurgitated slightly, and he pressed deeper until he was at the entrance to her throat. Violently tossing her head, she gasped for air, pleading through the gag of his cock for a moment's respite.

This apparently only stimulated him to greater efforts; he pushed forward into her throat and held himself there, chuckling at her wordless pleas. Her head was pressed against him; he had penetrated her mouth her so deeply that the base of his phallus now pressed against her lips. She was helpless, choking; desperately she fellated him with her lips and tongue, his iron grip holding her cock in place, until with great relief she sensed him swelling and felt his ejaculation approach.

His come splashed against the back of her throat and she retched, but desperately swallowed it; he finally finished, and the suffocating, tormenting bar of flesh began to soften. He did not withdraw until she had swallowed every drop of his come. Then he allowed her to collapse, sobbing, onto the deck, her bottom burning, her mouth aching, and her face smeared with tears and semen.

The day passed in a haze of pain and misery. He allowed her to take a shower, and don a pair of panties. Thus scantily clad, she set about preparing coffee and breakfast for him. He required a good slug of bourbon in his coffee, and made her drink as well; in spite of the previous night's alcoholic oblivion she welcomed the dulling of her sensitivities that the drink provided. In the afternoon he demanded another bout of oral attention; lying back on the bed he directed her efforts.

She was acquiring greater skill with practice; as before, he came in her mouth and made sure she consumed each drop, collecting the residue from her chin with a stubby finger and putting it between her soft, slackened lips. When she tried to close her eyes and hide, he insisted she look at him throughout the sucking. She cringed as, nearly naked, she cleaned the cabin and performed a variety of chores. At all times she felt his fierce gaze on her slender, almost nude body. She had stolen a look at her bottom in the head mirror; it remained bright pink, with one darker hand print, and it was only with difficulty that she was able to sit down. Her only recourse was to please him; a recurrence of the endless, agonizing, humiliating spanking must be avoided at all costs. And she had no doubt that would be her fate if she resisted or displeased him in any way.

She cooked supper - the boat was surprisingly well supplied with provisions - on the galley stove and served him humbly, wincing when he caressed her bottom and gave her breast a squeeze. She waited at the counter to refresh his drink; he ate with a good appetite, smiling and chucking her under the chin. Belching, he stood up, shucked off his jeans and lay back on the bed. His cock began to stiffen and rise, and he made a small gesture to her.

Obediently she took off her panties and naked, knelt alongside him, kissing his penis and licking it, then taking it into her mouth to suck submissively. He groaned in pleasure and began to stroke her buttocks; she stiffened in pain and fear. Suddenly, he lept to life, took her and pushed her face down onto the bed. Taken aback, in a moment she was helpless beneath him as he lept on top of her, straddled her waist and trapped her frail arms under his knees. Her face was pressed into the pillows; his great weight on her back held her almost motionless.

Junior looked appreciatively at the pink, entirely vulnerable cheeks in front of him. Reaching to the bedside table, he opened a jar of Vaseline and scooped out a quantity. Leaning forward and pulling aside one of the unfortunate girl's soft buttocks, he exposed her pink, shy anal opening and commenced to rub the lubricant well in, entering her narrow passage with first one, then two, and finally three thick fingers. Lois screamed repeatedly, but her cries were muffled; it made no difference anyway to her captor, who continued with his intrusive caressing, until the young woman's opening glistened with grease and was gaping open beneath his ministrations.

Like a cat Junior reversed his position on top of her; placing his rigid member against her parted entrance, he thrust forward. Then Mrs. Lois Atkinson, member of the Junior League, product of a top girl's boarding school, was forcibly and deeply sodomized by a laughing, chortling Junior Allen, who took his pleasure at length in her most secret place, Added to her pain and utter humiliation was the terrible feeling that she would be forced to evacuate her bowels; then he would thrust deeper still, so that she would squeal and cry out. It was not until Lois was limp underneath him that he finished, spurting an ocean of hot fluid into her deepest being. Even then he would not leave her be, but forced her to suck him clean, submissively licking away the brown streaks from her rectum that decorated his cock. She complied, and collapsed.