Author: Connard Wellingham Title: The Voyage Part: complete Summary: Aboard a yacht, Amanda undertakes a voyage of discovery. Keywords: Mf, bdsm The Voyage By: Connard Wellingham (c) Connard Wellingham 2003 This story contains what is known as 'adult content', ie sex. Why one should be allowed to read about murder, torture, violence and killing but not sex is a mystery to me - but there you go, that's the way it is. So if it is not legal for you to read about sex where you are, or you are deemed too young to read about sex or, you find stories about sex offensive - DO NOT READ THIS STORY. This story is fiction. This story is FANTASY. It is intended solely for your amusement and enjoyment. The author would not like to mislead the more gullible among you that the world really is as depicted here. Whether the world would be a better place if people did behave as they do in the story is a moot point. The author welcomes helpful comments and can be contacted at cwellingham@SoftHome.net. Author's Note: A kind reader suggested a boat journey for the residents of Greenwood Academy. I suspect he had an image of young girls being tied to the mast and ravished - and that story may yet get written. In the meantime this is what emerged.. . ----- The boat sliced through the calm blue waters, its prow making comforting gurgling sounds. Amanda lay on the foredeck letting the sun soak into her skin. 'How on earth,' she wondered idly, 'did I get into this?' Her bottom ached, her arms ached and her cunt ached after last night's session. She shifted her position and winced as more muscles protested at the abuse they had received. 'Still,' she thought with a contented sigh, 'it isn't all bad.' She most definitely had that being well-fucked feeling - and the spanking had added a certain spice to the proceedings. And, she was forced to add, although she'd been hurt, she hadn't actually been harmed. In the time she had been on board, she had received no cuts, only minor bruises, suffered no broken bones and had not been forced to wear or do anything that could or would mar her looks. And, really, the life was quite relaxing. Certainly there were periods of intense activity; when the yacht came about, or the winds were unfavourable, for example. Then everyone except Devlin would be frantically winding handles, pulling ropes and grappling with flapping canvas. There had been many sore bottoms and not a few tears the first few days as Devlin and the other men taught the girls the rudiments of sailing by the simple means of applying a whip if they got it wrong. Painful - but it had worked for they were now at least a moderately competent crew. And there were the domestic duties; cooking, cleaning and so on. But, other than these, a modern yacht practically sailed itself. And, of course, there was the sex but, she smiled to herself, she couldn't really complain about that. Why, she must have cum three times last night alone. There were noises behind her and she lazily turned her head to see John, the mate, pulling a girl up the aft companionway. Poor Jenny, she really did seem to have a problem. She seemed to get more than her fair share of spankings. There always seemed to be some misdemeanour for which she had to bend over and expose her bottom to receive the whip or the paddle. Perhaps it was because she had such a deliciously spankable bottom. And she always wailed so sexily. 'If I was a man," she thought idly, 'I'd want to spank and fuck Jenny all day long, too. In fact, even though I'm not a man, I'd rather like to take a paddle to these full, round cheeks of hers and then, afterwards, kiss away the tears.' The thought gave her a little inner glow and butterflies in her tummy. Jenny was dragged to a short boom attached to the mast. No sails were hoisted on this boom, it was reserved for recalcitrant girls. Amanda, herself, had been suspended from it more than once. Jenny's wrists were tied to the boom, a spreader bar was attached to her ankles and she was hoisted up until she was a good foot off the deck. A hooter gave three short toots. Amanda clambered to her feet. Three toots meant 'all hands on deck'. Jenny must have really done something wrong. She noticed that John did not have the large bulge in his shorts that he normally had when conducting a beating of this sort. This must be very serious. The girls tumbled out of various hatchways and Gerry, the third man in the crew, sauntered up from the rear cabin. Devlin was, as usual, at the helm. "Where's Tracy?" asked John when they had all assembled. "Cooking lunch," said Georgette. "She's excused then." He looked around at the assembled crew, his face serious. "I'm sorry to say we have a problem. Just now I discovered Jenny trying to send a message on the radio. You all know the radio is completely out-of-bounds. And you know the penalty for tampering with it. Jenny, I'm sorry to say, refuses to say what she was doing or who she was trying to contact. This is a most serious breach of discipline and I'm afraid it can't go unpunished." 'He looks genuinely upset about it,' thought Amanda in astonishment. Up till now she had always thought the men were relatively indifferent to the effect their games had on the girls. "Jenny will receive 20 lashes across her body. There will be no restrictions except the face and the feet." This drew a gasp from the assembled crew. Amanda felt herself blanch. Normally beatings were just to the bottom or, occasionally, the breasts. She glanced up at the girl suspended above her. Although the colour had drained from her face it remained set and defiant. "Normal rules will otherwise apply," John continued. "No blood will be drawn, except accidentally, and no permanent damage will be inflicted. Jenny, you know why you are here?" The girl nodded. "Will you tell me why you were using the radio?" A variety of emotions chased across the young girl's face; anger, fear, stubbornness. "I... I can't, sir." "It will be less severe if you tell me, you know." John's voice was surprisingly gentle. "I know. It's just that... I can't tell you. I can't," she finished with a wail. John sighed. "In which case I have no options but to give you the full 20 lashes. Gerry will you keep count?" His partner nodded, equally grim. John picked up the short-handled whip with its three long strands. Raising his arm he brought the strands whistling round. They curled round the girl's body like thin black snakes and when they fell away, there were three red weals on her side and up one breast. Time seemed to have stopped. Even the wind and the waves seemed to have paused their ceaseless murmur. In the sudden silence Jenny screamed and Gerry's flat voice said, "One." His face a mask, John continued his awful task. With grave deliberation, ritual almost, he moved around the suspended girl, lashing her with the whip. A rag doll in the wind, she danced to his tune of pain. Her screams became continuous until she could scream no more and were all the more terrible for being silent. And through it all came Gerry's flat voice, counting the deadly strokes. The audience watched, caught up in the spell of this dire ritual. Afraid, almost, to breath in case they upset some deadly balance. There was a thump beside Amanda. Suzie, the youngest of them, had fainted. Amanda made to help her. "Leave her." The last stroke fell. Jenny's body, from shoulder to knees was criss-crossed with angry red weals. A drop of blood trickled slowly, almost apologetically, from one of them. John dropped the whip on the deck and strode off without a backward glance. "Amanda. Georgette. Help me with Jenny. Rachel attend to Suzie," Gerry ordered. Slowly and tenderly, they freed Jenny from her bonds and carried her limp form down to the sick bay. Gerry opened the medicine cabinet and the three applied salves and dressings to the girl's damaged skin. "Stay with her," Gerry ordered. ----- Throughout the long day Amanda and Georgette stayed with the suffering girl. They held her hands and bathed her brow as she slipped in and out of a feverish, fitful sleep. At one point she sat bolt upright, eyes wide and gripped Amanda's hand tightly. "Oh, Amanda, I hate it. I've got to get out. I've got to. Promise me you'll help me. Promise." "It's all right, darling. I'll help you, I promise," said Amanda soothingly, knowing she was lying and hating herself for it. Inside she knew there is no possible escape from a small boat in the middle of the ocean - except the ultimate one. Jenny searched her face with desperate eyes. Amanda tied to meet her gaze calmly. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, Jenny fell back and slept again. Several hours - a lifetime - later, Gerry appeared. "How is she?" "Sleeping more peacefully," Georgette said. "Good." Taking care to disturb the sleeping girl as little as possible, he examined her wounds, applied more salve and pronounced himself satisfied. "You've done well," he said. "Send Tracy and Rachel along then get something to eat." As if on cue, the pair suddenly realised that they were tired and hungry, their muscles cramped from sitting in the same position for so long. "Yes, sir," they chorused and gratefully slipped away. ------- Utterly exhausted and emotionally drained, Amanda took to her bunk immediately after eating. Despite her exhaustion, sleep would not come. Images passed through her mind in a continuous cycle - Jenny's face as the first blow fell, John's haunted gaze, the red weals that sprung up on Jenny's skin wherever the lash landed, Jenny's plea for help. Round and round they went like demented rats until, to get some peace from them, she rose and crept to the galley to make some cocoa. For a long time she sat, the cocoa slowly cooling, untouched, in the mug. To an observer, she would have appeared to be sitting quietly but inside the thoughts tumbled and roiled like a maelstrom. At last she came to a decision and rose to her feet. She noted the cup of cold cocoa with surprise, not even having been aware of making it. Down the narrow corridor towards the stern she stole on faltering feet. There was a faint strip of light showing under the door. Very carefully, she pressed her ear to the panelling and listened. Faint noises came from within. Summoning up every ounce of courage she possessed, she tapped on the door. A chair scraped and the door opened. "Amanda," Devlin said with surprise. "I'm really sorry to disturb you, sir. I know it's very late but I must speak to you." "You'd better come in then." He stood aside to let her slip into the cabin. She stood, blinking in the light as he seated himself. Leaning back he steepled his finger over his chest and regarded her. "Now, what's so important that you need to speak to me in the middle of the night." "It's Jenny, sir. I'm very worried about her." He frowned so she hurried on. "I don't think she's at all happy here, sir." He sat forward abruptly. "Did she tell you that?" "Yes, sir." "Is that why she was trying to use the radio." "I guess so." "And did she say who she was trying to contact?" "No, sir, but she was sort of delirious after... after... anyway she was sort of muttering and mumbling and then, all of a sudden, she said quite clearly that she had to get off the boat. That she wasn't coping with it all." He regarded her directly, frowning thoughtfully and tapping the tips of his fingers together. "Hmmm. This is serious. You did right in coming to see me. Did she say how she plans to escape?" "No, sir. She wasn't really... together if you know what I mean." "We can't have a discontented member of the crew. Did she say why she was unhappy? Has she given any indication in the past of how she felt?" "No, sir, nothing." Taking a deep breath, Amanda plunged ahead. "But, if you'll forgive me for saying so, sir, you do tend to pick on her. She does seem to get more than her fair share of attention." "What do you mean?" "I may be speaking out of turn, sir, but it appears to us, the other girls that is, that Jenny gets more beatings than us and more, er, fucking." "So are you suggesting that you should get more beatings or Jenny less?" Amanda was stung. "Neither, sir. It's not my place to decide who gets whipped and when. I was merely trying to give a possible reason for Jenny's unhappiness." He gave her a little nod of acknowledgement. "So you think we pick on Jenny more than you. Perhaps she deserves more than you." Amanda shrugged. "Possibly, sir. But there may be other reasons." "Careful, Amanda. You are verging on insolence." His tone was sharp. "What other reason could there be?" "I don't know, sir." Then a little imp made her add. "Perhaps it's because she has a very attractive bottom." He gave a shout of sudden laughter. "You've noticed, have you?" Amanda blushed and studied the floor. "Yes, sir. I have to say I've sometimes thought about it myself." "About spanking her bottom?" "Yes, sir." "Well, well. You're full of surprises Amanda." He sat back and regarded her downcast head thoughtfully for a long moment. His chair creaked as he stood and she looked up quickly. He tilted her chin so she was looking directly into his eyes. "You've given me much to think about. You have done your duty well in telling me about Jenny. But..." his hand was caressing her shoulder, his eyes gazing hypnotically into hers. "...suggesting that I might be favouring Jenny in preference to you - that is going to far." He was stroking her arm now. Amanda found she was trembling. "Jenny does, indeed, have a bottom that begs to be spanked but so, for that matter, do you. For your insolence I think a paddling is required." "Oh, sir," Amanda gasped. "Please..." But even she wasn't certain if she meant 'please, no' or 'please, yes'. "Take off your clothes and bend over the desk like a good girl." Her heart beating frantically, Amanda did as she was bid. She felt his hands at her bottom, caressing and squeezing. They felt cool against her flaming skin. He prised her cheeks apart and ran a gentle, probing finger up and down the crack. She was embarrassed that he would find her so wet. The hands left her bottom. She braced herself for what was to come. The pain was intense - the pain from the first blow always was. No matter that she knew it was coming and knew it would hurt, it always took her by surprise. Her breath hissed and she bit her lower lip to stop herself from calling out. She clenched her buttocks tightly in a vain attempt to ease the pain. "Such a delightful bottom," he murmured. There was a long pause and the pain began to subside. For one fleeting, fantastic moment, she hoped against hope that that one blow was it, although she knew really that it wasn't. There would be more. The second blow fell. If anything this was worse than the first for she had started to relax and it caught her unawares. She was unable to prevent a small cry escaping her lips and she wiggled her bottom, possibly more than the pain warranted for she knew that, once it had gone, the heat would remain - the heat that could only be satisfied by having a stiff cock buried deep inside her. The blows went on. The gap between each seemed arbitrary but each lasted an aeon. So much so that by the time he had completed four or five, the heat had arrived in unbearable intensity. Her bottom burned, her cunt burned. She could feel moisture leaking from her cunt. She wriggled her hips frantically, squeezing her cheeks together in a futile attempt to relieve both the pain and the heat. "Well," he said at last. "I think that's enough." She waited. Waited for the sound of his zip being undone. Waited for the feel of his hard cock nudging the entrance to her cunt. She waited in her need for him to take her. The waiting seemed endless. There was silence in the cabin except for his breathing and the pounding of her heart. The slight creaking of the boat's timbers and the gentle slapping of waves against the hull she did not hear. They were part of familiar everyday and below the level of awareness. She did not dare look round. But the inner fire would not be denied. "Please." Her voice was barely audible - a mere whisper of sound. "Yes, Amanda?" Was there amusement in his tone? "Please... put your cock in me. Fuck me. Please?" The words were wrenched from her throat. How she hated this burning need. How she needed his cock. He chuckled. "Seeing as you ask so nicely..." His hands gripped her flaming bottom, the fingers digging into her flesh. Pain flared and she cried out. And then he was there, his cock forcing its way gently but insistently between her inner folds and into her vagina. "Yesss," she gasped. "Oh, yesss." He began to move. He filled her completely, her insides being replaced by cock. And when he pulled back he left a void as large as the space between the stars. She gripped the desk tightly and thrust back at him. The pain was ignored, overwhelmed by her need to feel him rhythmically plunder her depths. She felt a trembling start deep in her belly. 'Oh, God, yes,' she screamed inside. 'I'm going to cum.' She felt her juices flow, her belly spasm and her vagina clamp round his cock. A feeling of bliss spread through her body from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. She wanted to suspend time and sail on this euphoric tide forever. But the cock in her cunt was still moving. Like the pendulum of a clock it shuttled back and forth. Like time itself it would not be denied. She was very sensitive. The pain in her bottom, his hands on her hips, his pubic hair scratching her tender skin, his balls slapping against her thighs were almost intolerable. She felt his hand slide round her front and his finger probing her cunt lips. It found her clitoris and she almost hit the roof. She jerked and twisted as he tweaked the responsive nubbin and waves of pleasure crashed through her. She clenched her vaginal muscles, trying to draw him even more tightly to her, keep him bound inside her. "Oh, yes, Amanda. I'm going to cum." His voice in her ear was hoarse with lust. Then he was jabbing at her, forcing his cock right against her cervix. She felt it swell - and then his cum spewed out, seeming to shoot right up to her throat. She came again, the pleasure coming in huge rollers that broke against the rocks of her desire. He fell forward, catching his weight on the desk. "You really as a delightful fuck, Amanda," he murmured. He stood, withdrawing his shrinking cock and helped her to stand. Suddenly, the reality - or maybe the unreality - of whole situation overtook her. The events of the day came crashing in on her. She burst into tears and threw herself against the hard muscles of his chest sobbing wildly. Taken aback he stiffened then, almost against his will, his arms came up rather awkwardly and held her. "Oh, what will happen now?" she wailed. "Don't worry." He patted her on the shoulder. "We'll take care of Jenny. She'll be okay." He did not - could not - know that wasn't what she meant at all. ------ Jenny was much better when Amanda went to see her next day. She was sitting up in bed looking almost her old self. She was still stiff and sore but the cut had healed and the welts were fading fast. John stopped by while Amanda was there. "How are you, Jenny?" he asked in a quiet, serious voice. Jenny paled. "Recovering," she said in a tight, hard voice. "Good. I want to say I'm sorry I had to punish you like that. If it's any consolation it was the hardest thing I've ever done and I hope I never have to do it again." "My heat bleeds for you." There was hurt in John's eyes. 'My, God,' thought Amanda. 'He really means it and Jenny can't see it.' There was a long and awkward silence. John cleared his throat. "Right. As long as your okay." "I'm just peachy," said Jenny sarcastically. "Okay?" she screamed when he'd gone. "Okay!. Of course I'm not bloody well okay. The bastard whipped me. He nearly killed me. And the sadistic son-of-a- bitch comes to gloat and ask if I'm okay." Her voice had risen to a screech. "You were there, Amanda. You saw. You saw how he whipped me - like an unwanted dog. You saw it, didn't you?" Poor Amanda was in a quandary. She desperately wanted to support her friend who, she believed, had been badly treated. But Jenny had broken one of the ship's rules. The consequences of tampering with the radio had been clearly explained to them when they boarded. And Jenny must have know what would happen if she was caught. "I saw it, Jenny, but I'm not sure John enjoyed it. He looked very upset. And, besides, you did try to use the radio." "So what. I have to get of this god-forsaken fucking boat. I can't take any more. I really can't. So what if I touched his stinking radio." "But, Jenny, you knew what would happen..." Jenny rounded on her. "So you're against me as well. They've turned you against me. They all hate me. Every day they take me and beat me and screw me. Why? Why do they hate me? What have I ever done to them? And now you hate me too." She slumped back, defeated and broken, buried her face in her hands and cried - great, heaving sobs wracking her body, With a hasty, "I'll be back," Amanda fled. What was she to do? Jenny sounded as if she was on the verge of a breakdown. Who could she turn to? There was only one person. There was no alternative. Even if she ended up getting a whipping like Jenny, something had to be done. Devlin was at his usual place behind the wheel. His keen, blue eyes gazed out at the horizon from under the wide brim of his favourite battered bush hat. He seemed to be staring at nothing - at one with the inner rhythms of the wind, the sea and the boat. "Excuse me," she said firmly. His head whipped round to find the source of the intrusion. He blinked as his attention came back from the far horizon to register her presence. Thunderclouds gathered on his brow. "I know you mustn't be disturbed at the wheel and I know you will probably beat me for it but you have to know you have a major problem." She could see him bite back the instinctive angry retort and regard her quizzically. "You know these things and still you do it?" his voice held a hint of amusement. "Yes. I know and I do. You have a major problem." He sighed. "Okay. You're not given to hysterics, Amanda. You have my attention. What major problem do I have?" "Jenny. She's almost hysterical and I think she's having a breakdown." Beneath his tan, Devlin paled. "A breakdown? I'll get John to look at her." "No," said Amanda firmly, although she was shaking inside. "She hates John. He thinks John whipped her out of spite - for pleasure. She wouldn't let him near her." "I suppose it'll have to be Gerry, then." "Can't you just take my word or it?" She was close to tears. "I am taking your word for it, Amanda. But if Jenny is having a mental breakdown, she need medical attention." "Oh. I see. I'm sorry." "Quite all right." He fixed her with a penetrating look. "Do you think John did it for fun?" "Jenny knew the rules," she said carefully. He said nothing but his eyes never left her face. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. 'Oh, well, here goes,' she thought. "He was rather hard on her." "But she knew the rules." "Yes, she knew the rules." "You haven't answered my question. Do you think John took pleasure in whipping Jenny?" She looked away over the expanse of deck with it's white trim and out over the blue expanse of the sea. "No," she said returned her eyes to his face. "I don't think he did." He was silent for a long while. "Are you going to beat me?" she asked at last. "What? No, of course not." "But I broke the rules. I spoke to you at the wheel." "It's okay. No-one's going to beat you." "But you whipped Jenny." "That's different. You had a reason for breaking the rules." "Jenny thinks she had as well." "What? What did you say?" She was walking on water here, one slip and she would drown. "Jenny broke the rules because she had a reason to and you whipped her. I broke the rules because I had a reason and you're not going to whip me." He frowned. "Amanda, you really are a most provoking girl." He grinned. "I could whip you, too, if you wanted. If that would satisfy your sense of fair play." Amanda shuddered. "I'd rather not, sir." He turned and stood in the stern watching the yacht's wake ripple out and away, the wavelets gradually fading back into the ocean as if the boat had never been. "The difference is," he said at last, turning back, "that you broke the rules to tell me of a problem. Jenny had a problem but, instead of bringing it to me, she took matters into her own hands." "But you are the source of her problem, sir." "I see that now." He sighed. "Okay, Amanda. I'll deal with this from now on. Off you go." He was obviously going to say no more and Amanda left, not entirely sure what she had accomplished, if anything. ------ That evening they dropped the sea anchor. After days of movement over the sea, the stillness was odd, even oppressive. The girls sat around the messroom. Rachel had a book but never turned a page, Tracy painted her toenails, Georgette played patience and Susie just sat. There was some desultory conversation but the mood was subdued. No-one spoke of yesterday's events - they loomed too large in the mind to be properly judged. Everything had changed and they faced an apprehensive and uncertain future. Jenny had eventually been persuaded to let Gerry examine her. He had spent a long time with her and there had been tears and shouting. He emerged, grim- faced, saying he had given her a sedative and she was sleeping and immediately disappeared into Devlin's cabin with John. They had remained there ever since, Devlin only appearing to demand that their meal be brought to them. Amanda tried to analyse her feelings. It was clear the voyage was at an end and she wasn't sure if she was pleased about it or not. It had certainly been eventful and she had learned things about herself that she would never even have dreamt about. She had grown to like her companions, although they were very different to her, and would miss them. They had shared the spankings and the fucking, the hard work and the fun times and had drawn close together. She was less certain about the men. None of them had been cruel or vicious. They had cared for the girls - fed them, clothed them, looked after them - but it was all done in a sort of casual, off-hand way. There had been no 'coming together' in any sense but the physical - and there certainly had been plenty of that. She smiled. She would definitely miss the sex. Oh, yes, she would miss the sex. The men remained in Devlin's cabin and it was clear nothing more would happen tonight. The girls gradually drifted off to early beds. ----- There was no sign of the men in the morning either and it was several hours before Gerry appeared and demanded breakfast. There would be a meeting, he said, at mid-day. They gathered on desk at twelve. Devlin emerged looking tired and dishevelled, as if he had slept in his clothes. 'Poor thing.' Amanda thought. 'He really does look poorly.' They gathered round as he seated himself on a hatchway, in itself an unusual occurrence. "Sit down, girls," he said, with a tired grin. "This isn't a formal occasion." They sat on the deck or perched on bollards. The sun shone brightly down from a cloudless blue sky, indifferent to the small drama being enacted on the little boat sailing on the large ocean. "You probably know," he began, "that Jenny is not happy. So unhappy, in fact, that she tried to radio for help in getting off the boat. We can't have that. This is a small boat and all must share and be treated equally. So Jenny must leave. But we have a problem. In fact we have a number of problems. "We could put Jenny ashore at the nearest port and carry on with our little voyage - the five of you and the three of us. However, Jenny is very upset. It is quite possible she will say something. I don't believe she has any right to do that but she believes she has. So, if she speaks - goes to the police or whatever and persuades them that her story is true, we'll have the police, the coastguards, possibly even the navy, chasing after us. In a number of countries, a number of you are technically under the age of consent, considerably so in one case." He smiled at Suzie. "So if we get caught we're in a lot of trouble. "Now you may be aware that I never asked you why you were willing to come with us, whether you had permission - that sort of thing. So, just as it would be, er, inconvenient to have the police chasing us, it may equally not suit you to have to answer a lot of questions from narrow minded officials with fixed ideas about families. Mind you," he attempted a grin, "you could always say you were kidnapped and drop us completely in the shit. "We can't just drop Jenny off and carry on. So we've decided that the voyage is over. We will be heading for the nearest port." Although it was expected, the announcement brought gasps from the girls. "I'm sorry. It's our only option. Now what we're going to do is this. We'll speak to each of you individually and give you some choices. You can name a destination and we'll buy you a plane ticket, or you can make your own arrangements. We'll get you to the airport or train station or whatever and give you money to get wherever you want to go. We'll also give you enough money for things like clothes, food and accommodation. Okay? I'll give you half an hour to think about it ." He got up abruptly leaving the girls buzzing. Amanda stayed aloof from the whirl of conversations going on around her. She was still uncertain about how she felt. It wasn't supposed to happen like this - this sudden severance of the voyage. She had a sense of incompleteness, of things left undone, half finished. It was all very unsatisfactory. She wandered off to the bow and stared out, unseeing, over an indifferent blue sea. When her name was called, she went to Devlin's cabin with some misgivings. "So, Amanda, my little raven, what's it to be?" "I don't know." "That's not like you. Is there nowhere you'd like to go?" "Not really." "Do you have any family... friends? "No." "So you'd like the money and make your own choice?" "I suppose so." She felt detached, as if this was happening to someone else. Or perhaps it was a dream and she would wake up with a dull pain in her bottom, an ache in her cunt and the lingering memory of vigorous fucking. She became aware that he was looking at her. "I must say I've enjoyed having you Amanda. Having you aboard has been a real pleasure. In a way..." he trailed off. "Well, good luck." "Thank you." She turned away and left. ----- The remaining few days of the voyage passed in a sort of dream. The coastline slowly changed from a line on the horizon to a smudge to cliffs and bays and rocks and sand. To Amanda, the pleasant coast, so popular with holidaymakers, marked the edge of purgatory. She had no idea what she would do when they landed and was looking forward to it with an emotion that approached fear. Her brain seemed frozen, sluggish. She found she could hardly even picture towns and cities and people and buildings - never mind make plans Jenny had no such doubts. The news that they were heading for shore filled her with joy. She spent much of each day in the bow, watching the land grow slowly closer and cursing the slow progress of the boat despite the fact that, with a following wind, they were making good speed. She also made no secret of her plans - she was off on a plane to stay with relatives. They reached port and eased their way between the boats in the crowded marina to the berth they had been allocated. They waited while Devlin went ashore to arrange for the tickets and money. Amanda packed her few belongings into her rucksack and looked around for the last time at the small space that had been hers over the eventful few weeks. It didn't seem much but it had been hers - her refuge, her nest, her private place. At the gangplank, Devlin handed each of them a brown envelope. She took hers in indifferent fingers. The three men watched as the girls made their way up the jetty and were lost in the crowd. Amanda glanced back once. They stood, still and silent, unreadable expressions on their faces. Once they were out of the marina, Jenny tore open her envelope and waved her ticket triumphantly. "Yes," she cried. "I'm out of here. First stop the airport." "We'll come with you," said Tracy. "Let's go and see Jenny off." There was general assent and Amanda, with nothing better to do, tagged along. On the train to the airport, the girls were abuzz. Even a few weeks at sea with nothing to look at but water and sky and the occasional seagull had made them see the humdrum world with fresh eyes. They gawked and chattered like tourists. Amanda sat quietly, gazing apathetically out at the hustle and bustle. To Jenny's delight, there was a plane scheduled in a few hours and a seat was available. They spent the intervening time trailing her around as she spent the generous allowance on clothes and makeup and trinkets. At the departure gate there were tearful farewells and many good luck hugs. Finally Jenny ran off down the tunnel with a cheery wave. "Well," said Georgette. "What now." "I'll buy us a coffee," said Tracy, "and we can make plans." They found a relatively quiet corner of the cafeteria. "So what's everybody doing?" asked Rachel. "Susie and I are sticking together. Aren't we Suze?" said Tracy. The younger girl smiled up at her and nodded. "I've got no particular plans," said Georgette. "How about you, Amanda?" "Oh, I don't know. Nothing special." "At least they were generous." That reminded Amanda about the envelope. She pulled it out and slit it open. Inside was a cheque for a goodly sum of money and a hand-written note. She glanced at it and then read it again with growing incredulity. She became aware that Tracy was speaking. "Susie and I were sort of thinking of heading up the coast a bit. Perhaps as far as San Marco. Maybe spend a few days there." "That's funny," said Rachel, "I was sort of thinking the same thing, you know. It's supposed to be nice there." "Well," said Georgette with studied casualness. "If you guys are all going that way, I don't have any particular plans. Mind if I tag along." Amanda looked at each of them in turn. Inside her a chorus began. It swelled into a mighty crescendo. A thousand trumpets, choirs of multitudes, a hundred organs sang in her heart. "Ha," she said. "Ha, ha. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha." And she burst into uncontrollable laughter. San Marco. 'If you would like to continue our little adventure,' her note had said, 'meet us in San Marco next Sunday.' San Marco! She was going home!