Author: Charles De Ville

About: On a ship.

Excerpt:

“This time,” said the tall blonde, “I should recommend you for the birch, Giselle. And, since Madame almost invariably takes my advice in these matters, I have no doubt you would get it. Good and strong!”

Giselle, with dread in her heart, had already begun scrubbing the deck again. She seemed to have renewed strength. By no means for the first time she was inwardly aware of the remarkable stimulus to effort that pain... and the threat of pain... could give. Under it, one could achieve wonders. Wonders beyond one's own belief.

“Kneel erect,” ordered the blonde vixen. Her name was Judith and she was one of several slave-mistresses who assisted Madame Vesta aboard the stem-yacht which was rather cruelly named S.S. Paradise.

Giselle obeyed the order at once. The firm, apple-round breasts danced nakedly in the sunlight with her sudden movement. She was a most attractive, dark-haired, sloe-eyed girl of twenty two. Judith regarded her with cool satisfaction.

All this time, Melissa had continued zealously scrubbing her way up the deck, disregarding what was going on within a few feet of herself. That was sensible of her. She knew the form better than Giselle, having been aboard the Paradise considerably longer.

“You'll finish your morning stint the hard way, Giselle,” said Judith, smiling down at her victim. Only the mouth smiled. She had lovely strong white teeth. The eyes remained icy-cold. “Give me that brush. And open your mouth.”

With sinking heart, Giselle extended the brush. She knew what was coming. Had she not seen if before with others? Judith...or Miss Judith as she was thought of and addressed by those in her charge... now forced the back of the scrubbing brush into Giselle's mouth. There was a strap at each end of the brush, one with a buckle. These straps were now around to the back of Giselle's head and secured firmly. “Now get back to work, you Goddamn lazy bitch,” said Judith.

There was scarcely a pause before Giselle plunged the brush...and, of course, her face...into the sudsy water in the bucket beside her. Then she bent, crouching even further down, and began to scrub the planks with the brush now clenched between her teeth. It was indeed the hard way to do it... and the most degrading!

“And don't forget what I said about putting you on report, if there's any more nonsense,” said Miss Judith. She implemented her remark by swinging the strap a third time and thwacking it hard across Giselle's upthrust bottom. Snorting the suds from her nostrils, the wretched girl sprawled forward across the deck, hindquarters squirming and juddering. Fortunately for her, she had sufficient resolve to recover quickly and continue with her arduous task. If she had not done so, she would certainly have felt Miss Judith's leathern thong again.

The tall, blonde, leather-clad figure remained a little longer, looking down at Giselle's sweating nakedness. Her lips curled faintly with cruel pleasure each time the girl plunged her face back into the bucket and came out gasping and snorting. Most satisfying. Most pleasing. An excellent form of corrective discipline. Briefly her eyes turned to Melissa, who was now a yard or two ahead of Giselle. She could detect no fault.

“Melissa,” she said, “when you have completed your task here, you will report to me. I have an extra duty for you.”

“Yes, Miss,” answered the girl breathlessly, not pausing in her task.

Miss Judith turned away and moved a few paces down the deck. Then she leaned over the rail of the yacht. The sea was very smooth, very blue. But, by Christ, it is hot, she thought as she re-fastened the handle of the strap about her belt. Perfect weather for deck-scrubbing, she grinned inwardly. It certainly couldn't be very funny. No wonder Giselle had damned nearly passed out. She was pretty new to the regime, after all. It would be nice to have a plunge in the pool. Naked. And then a long, ice-cold drink. Well, why not?

She glanced up towards the gaily colored canopy on the upper deck. No doubt Madame Vesta and her gusts were already enjoying their morning aperitifs. She moved from the rail and strode down the deck. Behind her the ceaseless sound of scrubbing continued, fading slowly as she went down the companion-way.