BH-7342  Pleasures Of A Nurse
(Peter Kevin)


CHAPTER ONE 

Zelda Grader's hand moved lightly over the hot, dry flesh of the boy's body. 
He was thin, not quite having reached his full growth. But Zelda didn't care 
about his physical fitness at that moment. She was interested only in the 
way his heart seemed to pound in his chest, that tantalizingly beautiful way 
that young men seemed to anticipate her knowing hand. And she knew that he 
was hot and dry from the expectancy of her touch. When she suddenly grasped 
his rigid penis with her cool fingers, she wasn't surprised at the gasp that 
the boy made, a shudder of delight that shook his body, wracked him from 
head to foot, and sent shivers of a more mature variety slithering moistly 
through her own body. 

Her dark hair fell over his slight chest and her mouth found the center of 
one of his boyish nipples. She pressed her wet lips over it, sucking gently 
until her tongue could sense its growing firmness and only then did she part 
her lips and rake her teeth over the sensitive nerves. Her arm rested 
authoritatively over his shoulders, holding him down against the involuntary 
way he wanted to push her away. Once again she felt herself flooded with the 
sweet warmth of excitement. She squeezed his cock at its base and moved her 
head down, her mouth wetly open and eager to take the young plum knob of his 
cock into hot cavity of her head. 

He was as large as any man she had ever sucked, and she was somewhat 
surprised that for a boy of sixteen who was so slim he was built like a 
stag. She opened her mouth wider and almost lunged at the pulsing head of 
his cock, hot and purple with the anticipation of something that he had 
never felt before. It was large and it filled her mouth thickly. Her lips 
were stretched until the corners were white, but the jaw-aching thrill of 
taking the boy's cock into her mouth overrode all sense of discomfort. 

Zelda lowered her head, sucking the head of his dick into the wet cavern. 
Her cheeks collapsed around his screaming pole while her tongue lashed 
mercilessly over the throbbing head. His body jerked with the wild spasms of 
pleasure that he had never felt before and with each twitch of his slim 
body, Zelda felt herself growing more and more aroused, burning between her 
legs as only her wildest fantasies had given her. She moved her hand from 
the base of his cock and sunk her head lower, engulfing the young penis down 
to her tonsils almost. Her hand slid between his legs, cupping his 
passion-tightened scrotum and the swollen testicles inside. The boy was 
fairly shivering with the excitement that her mouth was giving him, 
pleasures that he had never understood could be so wonderful. Without 
knowing what he was doing, he suddenly began thrusting his hips upward, 
sinking his cock deeper into the older woman's mouth. 

Quickly Zelda rested her other arm over his pubic area, limiting the amount 
of thrust that he could make and sending still more frantic quivering of 
passion racing through his body. It was coming soon, she felt, and with that 
knowledge her mouth went to work more furiously, sucking and licking the 
shrieking nerves of his cock. 

Yet, despite the boys' passion, Zelda felt herself slightly removed from the 
scene of which she was the main actress. Her mouth salivated around the head 
of the boy's cock and dripped down through his pubic hair until it curled 
over her fingers. And she knew that this was the way to make him come, make 
his boyish semen rush chokingly into the hot recesses of her mouth. She 
would have cried with the expectancy of it had her mouth been otherwise 
occupied, but the moisture from it dripping onto his balls and her fingers 
still sent new shivers of pleasure through her body. She hesitated a moment 
and then slowly pushed one soaking finger down under his scrotum and into 
the sensitive ring of his ass. His buttocks tightened and Zelda heard him 
moan as her finger slid moistly into his rectum and his body jerked 
uncontrollably. 

The hot thick liquid filled her mouth instantly, but Zelda didn't gag or let 
go of the boy's penis. It was all that she wanted from him and she sucked 
him until she could feel the muscle of his manhood grow limp. When he had 
come, she had rammed her finger deep into his rectum, but as he pumped his 
last drop of come into her mouth she had slipped her finger from his ass and 
dropped her hand down to her own hot, wet crotch, angrily and hurriedly 
rubbing her clit until her soft, well-rounded thighs closed around her hand 
and the boy's cock slid softly from her mouth. 

Zelda dropped her head down on the boy's abdomen, her eyes closed and her 
mouth still swallowing the semen and saliva, but her body was basking in the 
glow of her self-induced orgasm, her breath coming deeply as she struggled 
to regain her composure. Oh, damn, she sighed, how wonderful it was to have 
him come inside her mouth, how very powerful it made her feel that he was, 
for the moments of his lust at least, so helplessly in her clutches. 

A smile crept across her mouth even as she licked the last drops of his come 
from her lips. A moment more, she thought, and she would put on her shorts 
and blouse and send him back to his place with the other boys, humbled and 
frightened, perhaps, at what she had done to him, but hers in the total way 
that sex can dominate the young. He would be hers from now on and not from 
him would there be any complaining about when the rescue boat would come. He 
was trapped in the way that even the strongest of adult males are trapped, 
in the hot confines of a woman's cunt or her mouth, trapped by the weakness 
of their flesh. 

When Zelda stirred finally, getting up from his bedside, Ronnie still held 
his eyes tightly closed. His arm covered his forehead as if it could become 
a barrier between his inner self and the woman who did such things to him, 
things that he had never dreamed possible, not even in the wildness of his 
sexual fantasies while he stroked his cock to ejaculation. 

He remained quietly on the bed as Zelda moved about the room, dressing and 
shuffling things. He wanted her to go away, to die, to leave him and the 
others alone. But he knew that the thing would come back and his cock would 
become hard again and he knew even as he thought about it that no longer 
would his hand be enough to bring about the relief that surged at the 
dam-locks of his groin. Right now he wanted her to die, but tomorrow, he 
knew, he would want to be right back where he was this evening. 

"Get up, Ronnie," Zelda said. Her voice cut through the boy's reverie icily. 
It was the old Zelda Gruder speaking, commandingly and with the complete 
assurance that every word she uttered would be obeyed immediately. "Get up, 
young stud. And I don't want to hear any more nonsense talk about what a 
terrible condition we're in. We're lucky to be alive, young man." 

Ronnie could make out her silhouette against the dim glow of the turned-down 
lantern. She had her back to him, fixing her brassiere or something, he 
thought, and then she turned completely away and turned up the lantern, 
sending its soft yet penetrating illumination all over the small room. The 
light startled him and he almost jumped from the bed and hurriedly pulled 
his shorts on. 

Miss Grader, as Ronnie called her, gave him an embarrassingly familiar look 
as she lit a cigarette. He stood on the other side of her bed and tried to 
look back into her dark, knowing eyes, but she was too strong for him and 
his gaze dropped immediately down to the floor. 

"And I need hardly tell you that you must not say a thing about what 
happened here tonight, Ronnie," she said, her voice still cool but with an 
overtone of conspiracy that Ronnie did not fail to catch. "And there will be 
other times," she added, this time almost coyly and very suggestively. 
Indeed, she thought, there would be a many more times with this kid. 
Involuntarily, she pressed her thighs together as she thought of his thick 
cock crammed into her cunt. "But now you had better get back to your own 
quarters. Good night." 

The boy looked up once at Zelda Grader and mumbled his farewell. His face 
was still flushed when he finally reached the door of his sleeping quarters. 
He started to go in, but then turned and ran, barefoot across the sand and 
down to the beach. 

Zelda watched him from the open doorway of her room, watched his hesitancy 
at his own quarters and smiled to herself when she saw him turn and go to 
the beach. That he might have been troubled by what she had done to him was 
just what she had intended to have happen. From experience she knew that he 
would take his frightened and much thrilled psyche down along the lonely 
shore and try to figure out what it was that had happened to him, and by the 
time he would be coming close to some sort of truth fatigue would overtake 
him and he would head back to sleep and forget and yet still remember all 
the fleshy delights that she had given him this night. 

"You like what you do to small boys?" 

The voice startled her for a split second before she regained her composure 
and turned to the speaker. It was Antonio, of course, the only other adult 
on the island beside herself. He would not have noticed that he had caught 
her by surprise. Antonio was much too engrossed in himself and what he could 
offer a woman of her passionate nature. She knew that because Antonio had 
told her. Another smile crossed her face and she turned to the darkly 
handsome face at the window. 

"You like watching?" 

Antonio laughed, showing his mouthful of white teeth, and walked around the 
outside of the hut. "May I come in for a treatment, Mees Gruder?" He said it 
with the same tone of irony that she had given him for his earlier question. 
He was at the door and close enough to Zelda for her to see his dark eyes, 
luminous even in the blackness of the tropical night. 

She nodded and continued smoking her cigarette as he came in and went 
directly for the bottle of brandy. He had been there before and he knew the 
way. Zelda watched his lithe animal-like movement across the room. He oozed 
around, she thought, like a snake and, like a snake, he held her fascinated. 
Under the ripple of his dark flesh, she hungered more than once for the feel 
of his muscles crushing her in wild embrace, and when he had finally put his 
enormous cock between her legs and fucked her until she wanted to cry she 
knew that she had been right about him all during the trip. He was all 
animal and just as stupid, but he served her purposes, in bed and in the 
fear that he put into the group. He was her strong arm, but she knew that 
she would always remain the brain and the real power over her charges. 

"You make yourself a little hot in the crotch, huh? What you need is a man, 
me. Get undressed, Mees Gruder," he said, emphasizing the way the kids 
called her. He was holding the brandy bottle to his lips, sipping 
indifferently as Zelda walked over to her bed and began undressing. Some of 
the fiery liquid dribbled from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't bother 
to lick it away. His eyes burned into Zelda as she shed her blouse and bra 
and then stepped out of her shorts in a casual manner. 

What a strange wonderful piece of ass, Antonio thought as he savored the 
full development of Zelda's tits and the full swell of her hips and narrow 
waist. What a woman, and what a weirdo, he added. 

There was no pretense on Zelda's part. She stood in the naked light exposing 
the feminine charms that she knew she was endowed with and endowed with very 
well. Something inside her made her feel powerful when she looked into 
Antonio's face as he stared at her bare flesh, and she knew that he was just 
as helpless as the young boy had been, but her power over Antonio would 
require more adult treatment for Antonio, despite what she might have 
thought of him as an adult, was physically a man. 

She watched him burn his eyes into her warm flesh, and she felt the growing 
excitement of what was about to come build in her, a tingling of her skin, 
first drying and then turning slightly damp with the fever that raced 
through her body, a mist of perspiration on her forehead that was echoed 
between her legs. 

Antonio put the brandy down and, unfastening the rope belt around his 
shorts, walked over to the bed. He let the shorts drop and stepped out of 
them, exposing his rigid cock to Zelda who never failed to become even more 
excited by the sight of it standing and ready to plumb the depths of her 
cunt, stretching the vaginal walls until she felt them almost rip apart. 
Antonio stood for a minute before her, smiling his own perversity as he 
recognized the hunger in her eyes. 

Zelda walked around the bed to Antonio's side, her flesh burning for his 
touch and almost fearing it, too, for she knew that he would try to hurt 
her, humiliate her, and she knew that she would take it because she needed 
him for the time being. She wasn't surprised then when he reached out and 
cupped her breast in one of his huge hands, crushing the full globe of flesh 
until she wanted to cry. But she didn't cry and, in fact, felt some deep 
satisfaction in the slight pain that caused more pleasure than hurt. 

"Fuck me, Antonio," she said, softly and pleadingly. "Fuck me." 

Antonio pulled her close to his hot, sweaty body, pressing the thick pole of 
his manhood into the soft muscle of her belly. She came to him willingly and 
anxiously, grinding her body against his and throwing her arms around his 
neck. Their mouths met in a kiss that was more battle for supremacy than 
love, more lust than passion. She opened her mouth and shot her tongue into 
his, widening her lips until her teeth crushed against his lips and then she 
bit down until the taste of salty blood rolled back into her throat, sweet 
and heady. Antonio's hands crushed the soft layer of flesh over her hips, 
dug into that flesh until Zelda sensed the pain and let go of his lip. In 
their mutual pain they found something of each other and neither was really 
aware of when they laid down on the cot, Zelda's legs spread wide, her moist 
red slit eager for his throbbing hard cock. 

Antonio was brutal with her. He pushed her legs back, arching them over his 
shoulders and rolling forward on top of her until her round haunches were 
elevated off the bed. He squatted before her, pulling the heavy globes of 
her ass apart, spreading the lips of her vagina wide with his thumbs and 
then rammed his prick into her, sinking the stiff rod down, down, down into 
her cunt until his balls nestled against the hot, damp crack of her ass. 
Zelda gagged down a scream at the tearing she thought that she would receive 
in the initial thrust, but then her nerves relaxed and she felt the enormity 
of Antonio's cock inside her belly, the gasp choked off, she arched her hips 
and rolled her haunches as much as she could in the position he held her. 
Now then was there such sweet pain, she thought as her body, without 
direction from her mind, took over and fell into the rhythm of lovemaking, 
of fucking, she corrected herself, for there could never be anything else 
but fucking with Antonio. Love making was for someone else. And she didn't 
bother answering herself who it might be. 

Antonio was a great fucking machine, his powerful young body, muscles 
rippling and catching highlights with the film of perspiration over the dark 
flesh, hammered against Zelda, driving deep into her cunt and then 
withdrawing until just the purple swollen knob of his cock rested at the 
lips of her cunt. When he withdrew, Zelda felt that the vacuum in her belly 
and lunged her hips forward, eager to suck up that monster penis into the 
sheath of her body. Endless moments, she felt, Antonio would hold the 
throbbing end of his dick at the portal of her love and just as she thought 
she was about to scream he would ram it up her cunt in an act of brutal 
passion made even more beautiful for her because of the brutality of it. 

They rutted for a long time, but Zelda was beyond all sense of time. She 
knew that he could make her come at will, and he did make her come with 
hardly more than a few strokes of his big penis. And then she came again and 
again until she lost count, until her body was dripping with sweat and the 
numbness in her upraised legs turned to chills and fears that he would never 
stop or that he would stop just as she was reaching another crescendo of 
orgasm. But he never failed to bring her off one last time before his own 
sperm erupted in her cunt, hot juice swelling her insides and blending with 
the tart secretions of her own spendings and sweat. 

Antonio got up and put on his shorts. "That's a lot damned better than some 
punk kid, huh, baby?" He laughed and walked over to the brandy and took 
another deep swallow. "You must be some sort of nut, Mees Gruder, but it 
don't matter to me. Because you're one helluva fuck, too, and that's what 
it's all about." 

"Don't be vulgar," she said as she reached down and pulled her own shorts 
on. 

"Listen, cunt. I'll be as damned vulgar as I want to be here on this 
stinking island. Just when in the hell do you think that we'll be rescued? 
Tomorrow? Next week? Shit! We were blown so far off course that it's gonna 
take a year for anyone to find us." 

Zelda glared at the man, trying to put him down to where he belonged, but 
then she noticed that he seemed very sober and serious. Was it possible? She 
didn't like to think that she would have to spend a year on the island no 
matter how delightful the prospect of getting all those kids into her bed 
seemed. 

"You mean that we're really lost?" 

"That's what I mean. Not that I give a damn. Hell, we got plenty of food and 
there's fresh water and look at the great accommodations the Army left here 
for us. But I don't think that we'll picked up very soon." 

Antonio took another swallow of the brandy and turned to Zelda, a broad grin 
on his face and evil twinkle in his eye. "And just think of the fun we'll 
have with the kids, Mees Gruder. You get the boys, and I get the little 
broads. Not bad, huh?" 

Zelda looked at him and tried to force herself to become serious, but it 
was, after all, just what she had been thinking ever since they landed on 
the island. Still, she thought, she mustn't let Antonio know that she 
agreed. It might become too sticky, she thought, more than they both could 
handle. 

She didn't answer him. The idea had been hers all along and she knew that 
Antonio knew it. 

There was no need to make a verbal answer. Zelda picked up a glass from the 
table and brought it over to him. He poured her a stiff belt of brandy and 
they toasted silently to the joys they hoped were coming. Then she looked up 
at Antonio, giving him her most haughty smile. 

"And what makes you think that the girls will only be yours?" 

Antonio lowered the bottle from his lips and stared down at Zelda, trying to 
penetrate the dark glare she was giving him. And then he knew that she was 
not kidding. He laughed. "So much the better, but I didn't know you liked 
little girls, too." 

Zelda shrugged. A thrill was a thrill as far as she was concerned, and from 
some unknown depths in her make-up she often felt an overwhelming urge to 
make love to a woman, a very young woman, a girl. Her experiences in an 
all-girls' boarding school brought her latent tendencies into the open, but 
that had been some time ago. Still the urges were there and remained with 
her, hidden for most of her adult life, but never denied and rarely given in 
to. 

"It's late, 'Tonio," she said. "Go to bed and I'll work something out. But 
you're sure that it'll be long time before someone finds us?" 

"A long time, yes, that's a possibility. But you might try to get used to 
the idea that we may never be found." 

Again Zelda looked startled and frightened, but that was the reaction that 
Antonio wanted to see. He laughed and walked out of the woman's hut. "Think 
about it, Mees Gruder. Think hard." 

Zelda locked her door after Antonio left and then got onto the cot. It was 
still warm and slightly damp from their bodies, but she was fatigued from 
the efforts of the evening and closed her eyes. 

It had happened so fast that she wasn't yet quite sure what it was. The 
storm hit their fifty-foot schooner early in the morning, still dark and 
made darker still by the screaming wind and rain. It was a nightmare of 
mountainous swells, groaning timbers and that ear-splitting snap as the 
boat's keel slammed into the reef. The impact threw her from her bunk. Then 
there was the rubber raft with all the kids clinging to it, and Antonio 
screaming orders at them and at her and then his powerful arm reaching out 
and pulling her to the relative safety of pitching raft. 

Somehow they all made it to the shore, falling exhaustedly on the higher 
sand and sleeping away through the howling wind and the pouring rain. When 
she awoke the next morning, the sun was burning her face and the sea was 
flat. It looked like a slate of plate glass and then off about five-hundred 
yards was the mast-less hulk of the schooner. 

Antonio was already up and had built a fire. He had gathered all the kids 
around it, some almost naked, waiting for their shorts and blouses to dry. 
When she came down to the fire, he told her everything. Lanterns, supplies, 
and plenty of canned food, he said, pointing to a stack of boxes on the 
shore. He had gone out just at sun rise and carried it all back. Very 
dangerous. And no. There was no sign of the captain or the doctor, the other 
chaperon on the voyage. 

That had been a week ago, she thought, her eyes no longer closed as she 
rested on the hot bed. They had all eaten and then wandered through the 
tropical palms, found fresh water and then the quonset huts. Antonio guessed 
that it must have been a military weather station, probably abandoned about 
a year earlier. But it was a home and shelter and within a couple of days, 
she and the kids had made the best of it. 

Those were the easy days. The kids felt the sense of adventure and the work 
of restoring the huts to some sort of livable condition kept their minds off 
the fact of their plight. But the work didn't take enough time. When it was 
done, they complained and planned and some of them became a little 
hysterical. But it was nothing that Zelda Gruder could not handle, not until 
Ronnie began his little campaign of wanting to know what she and Antonio 
were actually doing about getting them rescued. He seemed like he was going 
to be trouble and she had merely wanted to reassure him that everything 
would be all right, but then it got out of hand. She forced the early 
evening's memory from her mind. But she knew that it was the best way to 
control the boys, and the girls, too. 

Now the worst of their situation seemed to be over, Zelda thought. She got 
up from the cot and filled her brandy glass again. There wouldn't be too 
much more of that for a long time, she thought, just a few more months' 
supply at the rate of a bottle a week. 

It was all wrong. She knew it was wrong, but then she also knew that she was 
getting no younger and if Antonio was right... 

Zelda was thirty years old, looking older when she dressed in her severe 
manner and wore her nurse's cap. Born of wealthy parents who died when she 
was young, she was raised in one private boarding school after another right 
through nursing school. It had all been very nice, being around the wealthy, 
but it was difficult for Zelda, a charity student in the schools simply 
because her father had once been a renowned surgeon. She was given a 
first-rate education, but never any of the money that she would have enjoyed 
had her parents lived; When she graduated, she found that her wealthy 
connections, hardly friends any more since she was poor, did provide her 
with numerous private assignments. The last, of course, on the luxury 
schooner for the dozen kids, rich and spoiled. It was an assignment that she 
loved. It was her chance to be the authority to the kids who had everything 
that she should have had and didn't. 

Yes, she thought. They may have all the money they will ever need, but I 
have them now. She sipped the brandy and walked over to the window, looking 
for something at the black velvet night sky with its glittering blaze of 
tropical constellations. Her watch had been lost, but she guessed that it 
was somewhere around two in the morning, lonely time, quiet and dangerous. 
Did Ronnie return to the big hut? Go back to bed? For an instant she was 
almost willing to leave her room and check on him, but she shrugged. Where 
could he go? Another smile crossed her face and she went back to her cot, 
turning off the lantern on the way and leaving the last few drops of brandy 
in the glass by the side of the bed. 

As she closed her eyes, she could picture her charges one by one, not 
clearly with all of them, but enough to remember their names. There was 
Ronnie, sixteen and shy, but he was just the first. She tried to visualize 
the other boys, pausing in her reverie over Martin, son of a Detroit 
contractor, seventeen, all-star athlete, natural leader. She made a note to 
be especially careful with him. He would need special treatment. And the 
others, again vaguely, she went over their names. Bob, sixteen, bully, son 
of a banker or something financial and just a little dumb. Phillip, a 
nothing, perhaps a little faggot? She dismissed him. Then three more, John, 
Henry, Alex, sixteen or seventeen, she guessed, but again nothing about them 
that made special consideration necessary. 

And the girls? There were only five of them. Yes, that was it. One of the 
girls to the evenly matched dozen had gotten sick and her brother took her 
place. John or Henry? She would have to look it up in her medical files 
which had been saved. 

Joan was the oldest. Zelda knew Joan very well. She was a tramp, a flirt, 
and quite obviously no virgin. Even before the group had gotten out of the 
last port, Zelda had had trouble with Joan. It wasn't anything very serious, 
a small matter of a midnight swim in the nude with Martin. And then there 
was Mary, same age as Joan, but quite the opposite type, virginal, quiet, 
too inhibited to reveal what Zelda could see, that she was very moony about 
Martin. She would be a special case, too, a most delightful one, Zelda 
thought. 

There were other girls, too, but Zelda's mind drifted off to sleep without 
thinking much of them. Tomorrow, she was dreaming. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Joan Tribble woke before the other girls in the quonset hut. It was her way 
of being first in almost everything she ever tried. But there wasn't much to 
do on the island very early in the morning except swim in the warm 
surf-fringed lagoon. It was a fantastic adventure, all right, being 
shipwrecked and saved. Too bad, she thought casually, that Miss Gruder 
hadn't gone down with the ship. Things might have been a bit more 
interesting if the doctor had survived. 

She walked quietly down to the beach, thinking of how the young doctor had 
almost been close to making a pass at her, a pass that she had set up. But 
there was Miss Gruder and it all went down the tubes. Joan kicked the white 
sand and forced the thought of the doctor from her mind. In sight of the 
water, she broke into a run and dove over the small crest and into the clear 
blue of the deep water. 

Joan was a good swimmer and strong. Her body, cared for and nourished by the 
best that money could buy, reflected everything desirable, full breasts, 
narrow waist, long tapering thighs and a hungry passion for getting as much 
cock as she could. Something that she wasn't getting any of here on the 
island, but then that was the luck of it all. She wouldn't even have been on 
the cruise if she had not been caught fucking that super-cock of a bellhop, 
and it was all so unnecessary, too, she thought. She and the boy had been 
going at it for the entire day, but he insisted and she was willing, too 
willing, to have that last merry round on her mother's big bed. Gluttony, 
Joan told herself, obviously didn't pay off. Mother had caught them, and 
Joan was signed up for the cruise the next day. The bellhop was probably 
canned, she thought, unless Mother took a fancy to his big cock. That her 
mother would do such a thing didn't surprise Joan at all. 

She swam out about a hundred yards and turned her face to the sun, closing 
her eyes as she floated in the warm ocean, but thinking all the time, as she 
forked her thighs together, how great it had been and how great it would be 
with a cock rammed up her cunt. As she floated on her back, her hands eased 
under the thin panties that she wore as a bathing suit. It was all she had 
left after the wreck, a pair of panties, a bra and shorts and a halter. She 
scissored her legs wide and slipped her fingers into her sea-wet crotch, 
eager fingers searching out the little bud of excitement and then drifting 
easily, Joan fingering herself to a somewhat less than satisfactory orgasm. 
When at last she had clamped her thighs around her hand and felt the warm 
glow race through her body, she opened her eyes and quickly dove under the 
water. 

From the shade of a palm tree, Antonio watched with hungry eyes as the lush 
thing swam out. He smiled to himself because he knew that she would be his 
very soon. All that young, big breasted girl-woman would taste the massive 
pole of his cock, and he meant that she would taste it in every opening. He 
knew that he would crush those big tits in his hands and force that rich 
little bitch down to her knees and make her suck him until she gagged on his 
joint. Then he would tear her tight little asshole apart with his maddened 
stem, plumb her all the way up to her tonsils and when she was thoroughly 
taken in those ways, he would fuck her mindless, stretch her cunt walls so 
wide that she would have to walk bowlegged for a week. 

Antonio flitted from one provocative fantasy to another, but seemingly 
always coming back to reaming Joan's high, well-rounded haunches, buggering 
her until his cock felt like it would split. 

As she swam into the surf and stood up, he became aware of the bulge in his 
shorts, embarrassing then, but not for long. Still he turned away. He didn't 
want her to know that he had been watching her every move every morning 
since the wreck. There would be time for Joan, he thought, and went off 
toward Zelda's hut. 

The swim and the handy excitement made Joan exuberant. She came out of the 
water and picked up her halter and shorts and ran down the soft white sand. 
There were no towels and she knew that it was only a matter of minutes 
before the sun and the hot air dried her. Later, after breakfast, she would 
go down to the fresh water pool and bathe away the salt. When she was dry 
and slightly winded from her run down the beach, she stopped and put on her 
shorts and halter, resisting the urge to remove her brassiere first. It 
would have felt wonderfully free to romp around without it, but then she 
realized that she was too big for that. Slowly she walked back to the camp 
and waited in line with the rest of the kids for their breakfast of fresh 
fish, powdered scrambled eggs, and tea. 

Joan nodded to everyone and smiled, but there wasn't anything to say to 
them. She looked around the group until she spotted her only girl friend on 
the cruise, Ellen, and went over to the younger girl. 

"You ought to come for a swim in the morning," Joan said. "Makes for a real 
appetite, even for powdered eggs. Get enough sleep?" 

Ellen nodded. She was pretty, but she didn't have the flamboyant way that 
Joan had, and it wasn't because she was just a year younger. She was afraid 
to do what she wanted to do, and Joan wasn't. That was the only difference. 
Joan did it and Ellen was afraid to. But the difference made for close 
friends, close enough, Ellen remembered, to have even mutually masturbated. 
But that was all. Even there in the breakfast line, Ellen felt a blush run 
up to her hairline as she recalled that Joan wanted her to go down on her, 
wanted to lick her crotch. She had refused, but Joan, to Ellen's relief, 
didn't make much of it except to tell the younger girl what she was missing, 
how much more pleasant it was with a tongue instead of a finger. Next time, 
Ellen thought, next time she would go all the way. 

There weren't any tables for eating. So each of the kids went off to sit 
under a tree in twos or threes. Joan and Ellen went off by themselves, 
plunking down in the sand near the beach. 

"I'm starving," Joan said, shoving a mouthful of fried fish into her face. 
"You really ought to come for a swim in the morning." 

"I'd rather sleep." 

"Good wet dreams, I hope," Joan said, smiling slyly. 

Ellen didn't answer. She blushed again and started to pick at the eggs and 
fish, eating slowly and almost indifferently. "What'll we do today?" 

"What is there to do? Let's just wander around the old island. Maybe we'll 
find a pirate's treasure. Come on! Eat up. I'll meet you down at the pool." 

Ellen nodded as Joan got up and ran over to the wash rack. There wasn't much 
to wash, but she seemed in such a great hurry to do it. Ellen sat under the 
tree and watched her friend until she was out of sight. In a few minutes, 
Ellen thought, Joan's body would be naked in the cool water of the fresh 
pool. Just thinking of it sent a shiver of desire running through her. She 
wanted to be the water that held Joan's flesh. 

Quickly Ellen finished her meal and washed her plate. Today might be 
different, she was thinking as she walked slowly toward the fresh water 
pool, but how different she wouldn't let herself imagine. 

Joan was shaking herself dry in the sun when Ellen arrived, but she made no 
move to hide her ample charms, her high-riding breasts with the stiff 
nipples nor the triangle of black hair between her legs. It was only Ellen, 
she thought, but if it had been one of the boys she was sure that she 
wouldn't have run modestly away, either. She was too aroused by her swim and 
still too unsatisfied. 

Ellen watched, slightly embarrassed by Joan's nakedness, as the older girl 
slowly dressed. 

The island wasn't very large and Joan and Ellen had walked around the beach 
once before. It took them almost the entire day, but it had been worth it, 
finding a black sand beach on the other side of the island, remains of some 
long extinct volcano. But they had never gone across the island, through the 
undergrowth and the high trees. It should be adventure, Joan assured the 
younger girl, and that was enough. 

They had walked for about two hours when Joan finally agreed that it was 
getting too hot. Too hot to walk and too hot to really continue their 
cross-country trip. She would have gone on, gone on because she was strong 
and she wanted to work off the growing sensations in her crotch, wanted to 
sweat it away, but they had come across another fresh water pool. Fatigue 
and heat convinced her that they should stop. 

"Let's swim," Joan said, not waiting for the younger girl to decide before 
she was stripping out of her clothing and plunging into the cool water. "Oh! 
It's cold, but it's great. Hurry, Ellen. Wow!" Ellen, too, had felt the 
oppressive heat of the midday tropics and the water looked very inviting. 
She hesitated for a moment and then she, too, was out of her clothing and 
stepping cautiously into the cold water. 

Joan surfaced and called Ellen from the opposite side of the pool. "I found 
a little cave. Come on." Then she was gone, swimming under the ledge and 
into the cool interior of the cave behind the falls. 

For more than an hour, Ellen and Joan explored the cave behind the falls, 
admiring the way the light shimmered through the water and diffused itself 
over the damp moss-covered walls. There was an eerie luminescence to the 
quiet pool of water inside the cave, almost enough to scare them. But the 
cave didn't go very far, ending abruptly in the dim light about twenty-five 
feet from the falls. 

They both dove into the water at the same time, swimming under the ledge and 
up into the hot air outside. It was almost noon, but they didn't care about 
lunch. The air was too hot and humid for eating and as they both lay down on 
the grassy bank of the pool they agreed to forego the meal. 

The sun had burned down and Joan let herself relax almost to the point of 
slumbering. Ellen, too, finally relaxed, still afraid of her nudity, but 
slowly falling under the spell of the warm sunlight. 

She was almost dozing when she felt Joan's mouth against her soft tummy, 
felt the hot wetness of her tongue as it traced crazy patterns across the 
flesh, dipping lower and lower, settling excitingly into her navel and 
licking slowly downward. 

"Oh, Joan. I'm scared. Please. Please don't," she whispered. But Joan simply 
looked up at her and smiled knowingly. Joan knew what Ellen knew: that Ellen 
did not want Joan to stop. This time she would go all the way. 

Joan planted another kiss on the girl's soft skin just above the line of her 
pubic hair. Then with a gentle shove, she moved between Ellen's legs, 
spreading them wide with her cool, eager fingers. The crotch was damp from 
the pool, but warming quickly as she slowly lowered her face into the pink 
folds. 

Ellen shuddered at the first touch of Joan's mouth on her clitoris, snapped 
her legs wider apart and gave a deep-throated moan of desire. It was all 
that Joan needed for encouragement. 

She spread the lips of the younger girl's cunt wide with her lips and 
tongue, eating down until she had the little nub of passion firmly pressed 
between her teeth. Her tongue went wild then, lashing it until she could 
feel Ellen's body quiver and shake and fight to push the sensitive organ 
closer to the pleasure-giving mouth. 

Oh, what a sweet, virginal pussy, Joan thought as her mouth pressed into the 
humid purse of love. She wanted to make the younger girl come like she had 
never come before, because she knew that Ellen would eat her next and she 
wanted to be eaten, to be fucked with the girl's mouth until she cried and 
pissed and howled like the wind. 

Tears ran down Ellen's face, but they were tears of happiness. What she felt 
would happen was happening and it was far, far more than she ever expected. 
Her mind became almost blank and her heart raced until she thought that she 
would faint, but the pleasure in her crotch kept increasing as Joan's tongue 
probed deep into her cunt, and, yes, then she could say the word for what it 
was, her cunt, cunt, cunt, happy cunt. The muscles of her ass tightened and 
her belly heaved forward to crush the tantalizing tongue and lips. She 
soared on clouds of feathery lightness, screamed up to the peak of her 
passion and clamped her legs tightly around Joan's head as she came and came 
again, crying and moaning with the release of all the passion she knew could 
exist. 

Joan rubbed her face over Ellen's belly, climbing higher and higher up the 
girl's lush body until her mouth was inches from the stiff nipples. She 
rubbed her face over and around them, finally taking one gently into her 
mouth and sucking the sweet protuberance even more rigid. Ellen moaned and 
pushed the older girl's head away and then cradled it in her arms. 

"Oh. Oh, Joan. Oh, that was so good." 

Joan leaned up and kissed her on the ear and whispered to her, "I know, 
Ellen. I know. Please do me now. I need you. Please." And all the while she 
was pushing the young girl's head down. 

Ellen hesitated, feeling softly inactive after her orgasm, but she let 
herself be pushed down to the black patch of hair between Joan's lets. She 
must do it now, she told herself, do it while the pleasure was still fresh 
between her legs. 

She didn't bother with the soft caresses that Joan had given her, but went 
directly down between Joan's legs, letting the older girl spread her thighs 
wide. A moment's pause and then she dropped her mouth over the wet, slimy 
slit between the soft round thighs. Hesitantly at first, she dipped her 
tongue into the steamy crack, spreading the soft pubic hair with it and then 
cautiously tasting the warm fluid of Joan's cunt. There was no shock of 
revulsion and, quite surprised by that, Ellen plunged her tongue into Joan's 
slit with greater eagerness. Her hands, almost idle at the start of her 
lovemaking, suddenly came up and over Joan's thighs, slid gently over the 
flesh and probed apart the lips of her pussy. 

A surge of excitement raced through Ellen's body as she became more 
engrossed with the heaving torso and heavy breasts of the object of her 
lovemaking. She felt some strange feeling of power over the older girl as 
her mouth worked frantically at the girl's cunt, licking the salty liquid 
into her mouth. Cool hands came behind her neck and guided her face to the 
little nub. Just as Joan had sucked it into her mouth, Ellen sucked Joan's, 
grating her tongue over and over the screaming tissue. 

Joan felt the new contact and crushed her hips against the hot mouth of her 
young lover, feeling herself rise rapidly to the edge of an orgasm. She held 
herself back kept holding back, wanting to feel the mouth at her crack 
forever, but then she couldn't hold back. Emotion roared through her body 
and crashed in a dizzying spasm of relief between her legs. She tightened 
her thighs around Ellen's head, making the young girl halt the maddening 
movement of her tongue. Joan's ass rolled back and forth, her thighs still 
holding Ellen's face, until the last shudder of orgasm passed through her 
body. 

Both girls sat up after a few minutes, neither finding any words to talk, 
both almost wanting to forget that their emotions had run away with them. 
Ellen felt awkward for a longer time while Joan suddenly laughed and jumped 
back into the icy pool. She saw the concerned look on her friend's face and 
made a joke about having had the best meal since she was shipwrecked. Ellen 
managed an uneasy smile for an answer. 

It was nearly supper time when they both returned to the camp. They were 
only missed slightly at lunch time. It wasn't very unusual for any of the 
kids not to make the midday meal, one of the things that Zelda did not 
insist upon as she knew that the heat diminished every appetite, even her 
own. Still, she always liked to see all of her charges at that time, even if 
they didn't want to eat. 

Zelda watched from the window of the makeshift dispensary as the two girls 
returned. At first glance, she thought that everything was all right, but 
then she noticed that Ellen, normally very quiet, seemed considerably more 
animated than Zelda could remember ever seeing her. She was running and 
laughing along with Joan, normal for that girl, Zelda thought. Curious 
behavior, Zelda thought and then turned away, hardly thinking much more 
about it. 

"Pretty pair of twats, huh?" 

Zelda turned, startled by the voice. Antonio was standing at the door, his 
white teeth made brighter still by the dark complexion. 

"Remember what we discussed last night? Well, I know something about those 
two that might surprise you. I took a little walk today and guess what I 
discovered?" 

Zelda recovered her composure. "Don't bore me, 'Tonio. I've got things to 
do." 

"Bullshit, Mees Gruder. There's nothing to do on this stinking island, 
except fuck away the time. But aren't you a little bit interested in what I 
saw today?" 

"What did you see?" Zelda asked, her voice resigned to listening to him. 

"That older girl, Joan, is quite an interesting piece. Seems she likes girls 
a lot." 

"What the hell do you mean?" Zelda snapped. 

"I took a little walk after breakfast," he said, stepping into the 
dispensary. "Very nice way to play if one does not have a man around." 
Antonio told her of following the girls to their trysting place, relishing 
each detail of how first Joan had spread the younger girl's legs and then 
mouthed her cunt until Ellen had her climax. 

Zelda listened to Antonio's story, believing it without question. She 
herself had been to too many girls' schools to have been shocked or 
concerned. That Joan would attempt something like that didn't surprise her, 
but Ellen's enthusiastic behavior was something else. She suspected that 
Antonio was coloring the tale by making the younger girl out as a 
sophisticate. But that was a minor concern and it did explain in Zelda's 
mind why the girl was so animated when she had seen them return. 

Already plans were forming. She would have Ellen come to her quarters just 
before the lights out and confirm what Antonia had said. And then.... The 
thoughts of Ellen's young girl flesh sent a fresh shiver of anticipation 
running through Zelda's body. It had been a long time since she had explored 
the soft wonderland of a young female's secret places. 

"I theenk you like little girls, too, huh, Mees Gruder?" Antonio leaned 
against the table and was laughing without sound. 

Zelda turned to him with a frosty stare. "But you said it yourself, 'Tonio. 
What else is there to do?" 

"I want to watch," he said. 

"Don't be ridiculous," Zelda said. "I'm not about to put on a show for you 
or anyone else." 

He moved over to her so quickly that Zelda hardly saw him. Her arm went 
painfully up behind her back and the glinting edge of the knife, razor-keen 
edge against her cheek, came out so quickly that she was too frightened to 
scream. 

"I could simply cut your throat, Mees Gruder, and take the girls myself. 
After me, they won't need each other. I'm going to watch, aren't I?" 

The pain seared up her arm and into her shoulder, but Zelda managed to 
whisper her assent. This was a new factor that she had not bargained with. 
Quickly she realized that Antonio must be made to be her accomplice, to be 
part of the things that she wanted to do, and though she was a trifle 
disgusted with his suggestion she realized herself that this was yet another 
way in which to enslave him to her demands. She smiled her sexiest and 
finally felt the pressure on her arm ease. "Don't be a bigger fool than I 
think you are, darling. I was just joking. But you have to allow me to watch 
you while you entertain her. By the time I get through with her you'll 
appreciate how nicely softened up and ready she'll be for your big cock." 

Antonio slipped the knife back into its sheath and let go of the woman's 
arm. "I'll be watching from the window. So leave the blind up enough. And 
leave the door unlatched. It should be most interesting getting into that 
hot-pants little bitch. She has such a lovely movement, that Joan." 

Zelda smiled at him. "But Tonio, darling, I meant to take Ellen, the younger 
girl. She's such a sweet little thing, and I'd swear that she's a virgin, at 
least a virgin to a man if not to a girl. Joan has been around quite a bit. 
In fact, fucking was the reason she was forced to come along on the cruise." 

Antonio made some protests, cautiously admitting that he had the hots for 
Joan ever since she came aboard the schooner. But he relented after Zelda 
promised that they would have Joan the next night. 

It was dark outside already, the tropical sunset fiery for a brief time and 
then blackness. Antonio was suddenly aware of the darkness in the dispensary 
and the opportunity it offered. He moved to Zelda's side and pressed his 
frustrated and tormented penis against Zelda. She understood his impassioned 
mood and slipped down on the cool floor of the dispensary and unhooked his 
shorts, letting them fall around his ankles. Quickly she lowered her head 
over his thick cock and took it into her mouth, laving the glans furiously 
with her tongue and lips. Her hands cradled his testicles, those heavy balls 
she had come to love as they banged against her ass when he fucked her. She 
sucked the thick hard-on with her own passion rising, sucked frantically 
with only the thought of making him come quickly. She was rewarded with his 
load of hot semen which she swallowed. 

Antonio held Zelda's head until he felt his cock relax. He couldn't see her 
face, but he knew from watching her with Ronnie the previous night that she 
had enjoyed it almost as much as he did. He let her get to her feet as he 
pulled his shorts up and belted them. 

"I'll be waiting for you after you put the kiddies to bed," he said. 

Zelda said that he might as well go have a drink as she would take Ellen for 
a little walk before bringing her to quarters. "Watch for us. I'll have a 
lantern." 

He understood and left without saying anything. He felt relaxed, almost 
fatigued by the quick way he had responded to Zelda's mouth. It was over too 
quickly, he thought, but that was all right, too. He knew that he would be 
ready in an hour or so, more than ready for the little virgin cunt. He 
scuffed through the sand to Zelda's, turning on a lantern and drinking from 
the bottle. 

His thoughts ran back over the day's events and he tried to picture the 
younger girl as he had so well imprinted Joan's lush young body on his 
brain. Slowly, she came back to him, her legs spread for Joan's mouth, the 
arching way her not immature hips rose to meet that mouth and very adequate 
development of the girl's bosom. Yes, he thought, she would be just fine, 
and a virgin, too, he reminded himself. But then maybe that was why he had 
been so taken with Joan. She was definitely not a virgin and he laughed 
quietly as he wondered when she ever was. It was the older girl's experience 
that intrigued him, her sure way of handling her body and her aggressive way 
with Ellen. Other than that, he coolly told himself, there was very little 
physical difference between the two girls. And from tonight, there wouldn't 
be much that Joan knew that Ellen wouldn't. He laughed again and took 
another swallow from the brandy bottle. 

He laughed again as he thought of how no one back in Matzalan would believe 
that he had been marooned on a tropical island with five nymphs and a horny 
older woman. But whether they believed him or not didn't matter, he knew. 
The boys around the yacht club would keep buying as long as his fantastic 
story held out, and some of them would believe and would fantasize and 
relive vicariously this incredible segment of Antonio Cappatto's career. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden freshening of the wind and damp, 
sweet smell of rain in the cool air. The palms were rustling. 

The bright sliver of moon that had just risen suddenly was curtained by the 
boiling mass of clouds. Antonio felt the physical effects of the falling 
barometer, a sudden sense of exhilaration, a quickening of pulse, a time for 
mad things and madder things still. From his twenty-eight years, eighteen or 
more at sea one way or another, he knew what was coming, and he reveled in 
it. The storm. From the first hurricane he had ever experienced at the age 
of five, he loved the wind and the sudden crash of thunder and flash of 
lightning, the howling wind and then the slashing rain, cool against the 
tropical heat of the minutes before and so free that his mind wanted to run 
up the mast and feel the full force of the stinging water, salty and more 
delicious than anything could ever be. 

Quickly he turned the lantern out and picked up the bottle. Zelda and the 
virgin would be coming. Zelda and the virgin, he mused, making it a 
sing-song ringing tantalizingly through his brain. He stepped out into the 
wind, caught a glimpse of the moon once more before it was curtained behind 
a thunder head, yet only slowly fading behind the blackness, revealing first 
the turmoil of the storm that was soon to crash down. He laughed and walked 
around the quonset hut, small shelter there from a makeshift awning that 
some soldier had put up. It would not be enough to protect from the rain, 
but he was not one to complain about rain. He took another swig from the 
bottle of brandy and waited patiently for Zelda and the virgin. They would 
be coming quickly, he thought, fearing the weather as all women fear the 
weather. 

From one window through the opposite window, he saw the swinging lantern, 
moving joggedly as the girls ran to the shelter of the hut. Antonio smiled 
to himself and took still another drink from the bottle. He capped it then, 
not wanting the surge of excitement from the weather and the thoughts of the 
virgin's widespread legs to leave him. He nestled the bottle down into the 
sand, knowing that when he was ready he would take it with him. 

Zelda had taken Ellen for a long walk down the beach, speaking softly and 
understandingly to the young girl. A suggestion here and there, a word of 
comfort, a word of more understanding about the hot flushes that ran through 
a girl's body and before long Ellen was telling Zelda all about her shame, 
her seduction, her participation and her desires. And her fears. She 
expressed them more than anyone else had done. Ellen said that she knew that 
she was never going to be rescued, that they were all going to be stranded 
forever. Zelda reassured her, calmed her and told her to follow. 

When the wind came up, she told the girl to hurry and began to trot toward 
her quarters. Ellen kept up with Zelda, her eyes glued to the wavering flash 
of the lantern's beam as it joggled over the sand. The going was slow 
through the deep, soft sand, and when they were a hundred yards from Zelda's 
quarters, the rain exploded upon them, heavy sheets of rain, drops as big as 
tea cups and larger. It drenched them with the first onslaught, but Zelda 
smiled and imperceptibly slowed her pace. She was soaked in a moment, 
drenched to the skin, and so was Ellen. Perfect, Zelda, thought, and the 
thought was echoed in Antonio's mind as he watched the woman and the virgin 
come up to the hut. 

Zelda put the lantern on the table and closed the door, careful to leave it 
unlatched as she knew that Antonio was watching. She felt a strange 
perversity in knowing that he was watching, and knowing that he was going to 
watch as she seduced Ellen. But there were first things to perform. She lit 
the stove. She looked for the brandy and realized that Antonio must have the 
open bottle with him. It was no matter. She opened another one and left it 
on the sideboard near the stove. Then she drew some water and told Ellen to 
get out of her wet clothing while she made some hot tea. 

Zelda pointed toward a robe hanging near the cot, and Ellen seemed relieved. 
Quickly, she stripped out of her clothes and, watching Zelda busy at the 
stove, she put on the robe. That moment of hesitation did not go unnoticed 
by Antonio who noticed immediately that the girl's nipples were stiff. Stiff 
with what? With fear or anticipation? He muffled a laugh and reached down 
for the bottle. 

Ellen watched Zelda make tea preparations. All the things she had told the 
nurse seemed so distant, and the older woman seemed so understanding that 
she was beginning to feel comfort- able. The fire was comfortable after the 
cool rain and it made the hut protective and isolated from the crashing 
storm that was raging outside. 

Zelda laced Ellen's tea heavily with brandy and sugar. She knew that it was 
not enough to make the girl intoxicated, but it would be enough to make her 
relax, make her become more drowsy and more susceptible to her advances. Ah 
sweet brandy, Zelda thought as she brought the cups of steaming tea over to 
the girl, it will make my task so much easier. 

She put the cups of tea and brandy on the table by the bed. As Ellen began 
to drink hers, Zelda smiled and began to change her own wet clothing. She 
was careful to let the younger girl see her fully developed body, the firm 
globes of her breasts and the swell of her hips, her narrow waist and her 
milk-white skin that contrasted so boldly with the dark triangle between her 
legs. 

At first, Ellen turned away, but as the warm tea and brandy flowed through 
her body, she slyly turned to watch the older woman, slightly embarrassed, 
but too curious to turn away even when Zelda smiled at her and continued her 
slow movements. The older woman had taken a towel and was sensuously rubbing 
her body down, warming it to a pale pink flush. 

"You should let me do this to you, Ellen," she said very softly. "It'll take 
all the danger of catching a cold away. Come here." 

Still fascinated by the beautiful body of the older woman, Ellen got up from 
the edge of the bed and, putting her cut of tea down, walked over to Zelda. 
She was blushing at the thought of the nurse touching her, but she wanted to 
be touched by the gentle hands of the older woman, wanted the feel of those 
cool, long fingers over her fiery body. 

Outside, Antonio watched with increasing passion as the females performed 
their quiet admiration of each other's body. He grew more frantic as Zelda 
pushed the girl's thin robe from her shoulders, revealing the fine youthful 
breasts and smooth fleshed torso. He saw the hungry look in Zelda's eyes as 
she touched the girl's nipples gently and watched for some reaction from the 
youngster, but the girl only shut her eyes. 

"You have a beautiful body," he heard Zelda whisper. "No wonder Joan was so 
attracted to you. Ellen, dear, I feel that way, too, the way that Joan must 
have felt this afternoon. You're really beautiful, my dear." 

There were other whispered endearments that Antonio could only guess at. But 
the magic words of Zelda were taking effect, he saw. The older woman slowly 
placed her arms around the girl's shoulders and pulled her close to her warm 
breasts and then, shyly, uncertainly, the girl put her arms around Zelda. A 
moment of silence and the touch had the desired effect. Gently and seemingly 
not even moving, Zelda lifted the girl's face and pressed her mouth over the 
parted lips of the virgin. 

Ellen moaned and seemed to melt into Zelda's comforting arms, seeking the 
warmth there and the protection and the excitement of what she knew was only 
a fraction of what it could be like with someone like Zelda. For an instant 
she felt some loathing of herself, but it passed as quickly as the rush of 
blood roared through her body and her cunt seemed to boil with desire. She 
responded willingly to the kiss, frightened at first by its intensity and 
then glad of it, joyously accepting it and returning it to the older woman. 

Zelda's hands moved down the girl's back, cupping the well-rounded buttocks 
and squeezing the firm soft flesh. Her kiss became more insistent, more 
demanding, and her hands pulled the girl's ass apart, cool knowing fingers 
slipping into the crack and down until they felt the girlish moisture 
seeping from the core of heat. Their pelvises ground together, black slash 
of hair insinuating itself between the softer, younger lighter curls of 
Ellen's cunt. Slowly and without breaking the kiss, Zelda walked Ellen back 
to the bed, kissing her feverishly once and then easing her down onto the 
soft cover. - Ellen held her eyes tightly shut as she felt herself lowered 
onto her back, felt those cool, knowing fingers spread her thighs, hot 
pillars of flesh, wide apart and she could feel her heart pounding as she 
waited for the electrifying shock of Zelda's tongue. The girl clenched her 
hands into the covers, squeezing the fabric until her knuckles were almost 
white, waiting, expecting, knowing what was coming, frightened of it, and 
wanting it so very much at the same time. 

Zelda smiled once toward the window, hardly a smile really, more of a 
sardonic grin, an expression of conquest that seemed to mock the unseen 
presence of the masculine animal just outside. The light from the lantern 
made it impossible for Zelda to see outside, but she knew that Antonio was 
there and she knew that what she going to do would run him up the wall and 
then.... She knelt at the foot of the bed and told herself that she would 
worry about that when it happened. The girl, she noticed, was still 
frightened, eyes closed and fists clenched. Well, Zelda thought, as she 
lowered her face into the warm flesh of the girl's belly, eyes and fists 
will be closed in more than fright before the night is over. 

The shock of Zelda's face against her abdomen made Ellen open her eyes and 
look down. Her hands unclenched the fabric and she wanted to push the older 
woman away but those wild sensations ran through her body one more time and 
she "could no longer control herself. She rocked her hips forward and 
undulated as Joan had done earlier in the day. Was it the same day? The 
shock again of Zelda's mouth closing rapidly down to her most sensitive core 
made her forget the feelings of the afternoon, if that had really been a 
part of the day or was it all just a damp dream and happened a million years 
ago? 

Ellen cried out as Zelda's tongue expertly parted the pubic hair and zeroed 
in on the bud of pleasure. The first stab of hot tongue sent of a jolt of 
pleasure into her body. She arched her back, trying at once to get away from 
the flaying tongue and at the same time to get even closer to it. Zelda beat 
a staccato of excitement into the girl's cunt, laving the clit frantically 
for a few minutes before lowering the target area to bring into better 
arousal some of the delicate tissues and nerves of the girl's vaginal walls. 
She slipped her tongue deep into the pink wet folds of flesh, occasionally 
mouthing the plumb petals of passion that were the girl's cunt lips. Her 
thoughts, like Joan's earlier, also reflected upon the tart sweetness of 
this boiling virgin. She licked the girl's pussy down, down, down, pushing 
the healthy thighs wide and back until her mouth was comfortably resting 
right at the core. Then she went down farther, licking moistly around the 
edges of her asshole and finally, after much tormenting, plunged the hot tip 
of her tongue into the tight ring of muscle ... just a tip of tongue, but 
enough to send the girl crying aloud with the intensity of the pleasure, a 
moan that almost dimmed the roaring storm outside. 

Antonio reached down and picked up the bottle of brandy, quickly uncorking 
it and taking a long pull. But his eyes never left the two on the bed inside 
the hut. He was aware only of the burning liquid going down his throat and 
the painful throbbing of his enormous erection. He wanted to drop the 
bottle, his tightly bulging shorts and race into the hut and slam his meat 
into the quivering cavern of Ellen's hot cunt. But he held himself in check, 
sipping more of the brandy and telling himself that he must hold back in 
order to really enjoy the preparation that Zelda was giving the virgin. The 
rain splashed from his back, off his head and trickled down into his mouth, 
but he still felt feverish from watching. Zelda, he thought in a moment of 
calm, was as enthusiastically eating the girl's box as she had been sucking 
off the boy. A crazy broad, he told himself, and added that that was just 
what every shipwrecked sailor should have. 

Ellen felt still newer spasms of delight as Zelda's mouth worked its way up 
from her anus and back into the hot lubricity of her cunt. Oh, yes, she 
whispered to herself, it was her cunt, her cunt, her throbbingly aching cunt 
that was giving her so much pleasure. Not even Joan's skillful tongue had 
done that this afternoon what the older woman was doing then. Ellen felt 
dizzy with the waves of emotion that rocked through her virginal body as the 
nurse licked around the core of sensitivity, sometimes even nibbling gently 
with her teeth on that wild little nub of nerves. Her face grew red and the 
perspiration rolled between her breasts and down onto the cover of the bed, 
surrounding Ellen in a damp, earthy-smelling and exciting bath. The moisture 
didn't cool in the storm-caused breeze that swept through the hut. Her body 
was too afire to allow for coolness. 

Again Zelda's tongue found yet another sensitive area which sent the girl 
into new paroxysms of pleasure. She heaved her chest up and down, sucking in 
the life-giving air and flailed the mattress with her clenched fists and 
then a great shudder passed through her body, some wild new excitement that 
had never broke out of her soul before. Ellen felt it like a coal between 
her legs, hot and alive and searing right down to the very core of her 
being. 

Uncontrollably, she reached down and grabbed Zelda's hair, pulling the all 
too willing nurse's mouth closer to the maelstrom of her burning cunt. She 
was wracked with the spasms of her orgasms, deep, wet convulsions that 
ripped her from any semblance of reality and dropped her onto the feathery 
clouds of such pure satisfaction that she wanted to cry and scream, rant and 
rip things to pieces. Instead, the wild feeling slowly ebbed until Ellen 
could only hear the sound of her own heart, loud within her mind and almost 
as loud as the wind and thunder outside. Her legs stiffened and she arched 
herself until Zelda's punishing tongue was forced from the elemental core of 
her desire. 

Zelda knew what had happened. She rolled back onto her haunches and let 
Ellen's legs fall limply together. The girl's eyes were tightly closed 
again, but this time it was not in that fearful anticipation of what she was 
going to get, but closed they were, tightly closed in remorse perhaps but 
more than likely in the deep throes of total completion. Zelda lay down 
beside the girl and softly kissed her eyelids, her hands, her neck, her 
shoulders. There must be a moment of quiet, Zelda said to herself, a moment 
like this before it all turns very different. 

She was burning herself, but she held herself back, knowing that Antonio was 
about to come in. He must be very excited, she thought. Her hand betrayed 
her own excitement, creeping down between her damp thighs and finding some 
small solace in the touch of her clit. A quick look at the window and she 
knew that Antonio would read her signal. She waited, once more leaning over 
Ellen's body and kissing the eyelids. Soon, pretty one, I'll let him have 
you. 

"Very nice, Mees Gruder." 

She knew that he was there, but she was still surprised when she saw him 
standing at the doorway. She had not heard him enter, but then the wind and 
the rain were making enough noise for anyone to have come in without her 
knowing it. But she was expecting him and still she was surprised, surprised 
especially at his voice. 

Ellen cried out as soon as she heard his voice and made an attempt to run 
from the bed, but Zelda held her close and whispered into her ear. Fear not, 
quiet, and other little words that seemed all right for the moment but there 
was the burly first mate, standing there and looking at the two of them, 
looking especially at her, at Ellen. She cried again and turned her face 
into Zelda's bosom, seeking consolation. "Touching." 

"Be gentle with her, Tonio," Zelda said. She put her hand under the girl's 
chin. "Ellen, dear, listen to me. You like what happened to you just now, 
didn't you? Well, there is something just as wonderful that 'Tonio will do. 
It's something so different that you'll wonder whether you will ever want 
what I have done, but you'll see, soon enough, that both are very good. Now, 
relax, Ellen, and enjoy." 

She held the girl by the shoulders, her powerful arms easily controlling the 
frightened teenager as Antonio moved stealthily across the room. Ellen 
looked up again and saw him closer. Then, with a super effort, she broke 
from Zelda's grasp and ran for the door, but Antonio tripped her and sent 
her sprawling. He was in no mood for gentleness, and somewhere in Zelda's 
mind she didn't really want to object to what was about to take place. 

Antonio's hand flashed down and wrapped into Ellen's hair. He pulled her to 
her feet, his dark eyes flashing the hungry need in his loins. "Listen, 
little cunt, and listen well. I'm going to fuck you. There's no doubt that 
you're going to get fucked. But there are two ways you can do it, willingly 
or otherwise. We'll both enjoy it if you cooperate. If you don't, I'll still 
enjoy it. Is that clear?" 

The pain seared through her scalp as the man held her nearly off her feet by 
the hair. She was more frightened than she had ever been in her life. And 
she was still weak from Zelda's mouth, but something inside her kept telling 
her that Antonio was bad and that he was going to hurt her, no matter what 
she did. But his eyes, she thought. He wants me and he'll kill me. It was 
just a momentary flash across her intelligence, but it was enough to make 
her realize that she was totally helpless. Zelda, she noticed, was simply 
standing by the bed and almost seemed anxious to see her raped. 

Antonio's knife flashed under her chin. Ellen saw it and let the tears flow, 
causing wavery patterns of the two adults in the room. Then she relaxed. 
Antonio pushed her over to the bed where she dropped down, feeling without 
hope and without friends. Let him do his damnedest, she thought, and put her 
face in her hands. 

What a strange sense of excitement, Zelda thought, and watched as Antonio 
stripped his shorts off and stood before the teenager with his throbbing 
erection. There was a perverse sense of exhilaration that shot through her 
entire being as she watched him pull the girl's hair again and steer his 
enormous cock toward her tear-stained face. She could feel the searing heat 
of her own passion from her toes to her head as the girl sat passively in 
front of that marvelous cock, fearing and fascinated by its immensity, its 
heat, its promise of such power. 

Ellen's hands dropped from her face when Antonio had grabbed her hair, but 
she could feel no urge to resistance when he shoved his hard penis so close 
to her. Her mouth was closed, but she didn't know that was where he wanted 
to put his meat. She felt suspended for a long time until suddenly Antonio's 
other hand reached down and squeezed open her jaws. Her lips parted wetly, 
tear-soaked and limp, and then his cock was inside her mouth, thick and 
almost gagging and pleasing and frightening. His powerful fingers still held 
her jaws open, but she made no effort to close them around the fleshy pole. 
She was too surprised by his oral attack to know what was happening and then 
it was too late. The cock was in her mouth and when she finally tried to 
pull away, his other hand, fingers entwined in her hair, yanked her head 
forward until the thick member was jammed into her mouth almost down to her 
tonsils. She coughed, gagged, and fought to pull away, but he held her fast, 
squeezing her jaws until they ached, until she calmed enough to hear his 
voice, low and threatening. "Use your tongue, you little slut, use your 
tongue or I'll rip your head off your neck. Lick the end of that cock. Lick 
it good." 

Tentatively, she let her until then frozen tongue lash out against the hot 
knob of his penis. Her saliva formed and mixed with the salty taste of his 
flesh. She swallowed and found a strange sensation running through her body. 
She licked the head of his cock again and the same shudder of fear or 
pleasure struck her again. Again her tongue flicked over the swollen glans 
and then again and again until she shuddered. Cautiously, her hand stole up 
Antonio's leg and found the heavy sack of his testicles. Curious was all 
that Ellen could think, but he shoved his dick farther into her throat and 
made her wince, but it was not unpleasant and she licked his penis more 
rapidly. 

"That's more like it," he said softly, easing his cock in and out of her 
mouth. "A few more lessons and I think you'll become a great cock-sucker." 
He moaned and then pulled himself from the warmth of her head. 

"But that's enough for now. Just lay back on the bed, baby. It's time you 
got something where it really belongs." 

Ellen felt herself pushed back onto the cover of the bed, but she seemed 
hardly aware of what was happening to her. It was all so dreamlike, she 
thought, a nightmare, and yet such a pleasant one. The cock in her mouth had 
excited her and in the moment before Antonio spread her legs wide and shoved 
that same cock deep into her cunt, she felt a wave of revulsion. It passed 
as quickly as the thick stem of his manhood, brutally and quickly, rammed 
itself between her widespread thighs, sinking deep into the inner heat of 
her vagina, stretching wide the walls and sending a searing pain through her 
abdomen. But the pain passed as the Zelda-prepared moisture of Ellen's cunt 
eagerly accepted the massive member. Then pain again as Antonio withdrew and 
plunged back into her, sinking ever deeper into her body. 

She felt ripped at first, but then it began to subside, that swollen 
pressure that almost made her nauseated, and it was slowly being replaced by 
sensations that she had only faintly experienced with her fingers and the 
tongues of Zelda and Joan. This was real. It all came shattering down to her 
that she was finally being fucked, fucked, fucked by a man, and she gloried 
in it, wrapping her plump thighs tightly around Antonio's waist and moaning 
her pleasure sounds into the flesh of his shoulder. Then it was over and 
just as though they had called up a cue to the sky, the storm let up, the 
wind howled down to a mere breeze and the moon broke through the dark 
clouds. 

Antonio sat naked in the chair by the table, drinking right from the bottle 
of brandy. He watched Zelda clean up the girl, show her how to take care of 
herself, whispering woman things. It had been good, he thought, tight and 
sweet and surprising that the girl had taken to cock so readily. She sucked 
out of fear, but she joined the fucking out of pleasure. He could wait 
patiently for Zelda to finish with the girl. He was tired, but he knew that 
the woman was probably as horny as hell and he also knew that he would be 
able to take care of her rampant desires after the girl had gone to her own 
quarters. 

Zelda made some more tea and brandy for Ellen and then walked her back to 
her room. The girl was embarrassed and hardly said a word, but Zelda knew 
that that would pass and that she would be ready for another night before 
too long. When the nurse returned to her own room, she glanced quickly at 
Antonio, saw his thick cock swollen with need and turned out the lantern. He 
didn't disappoint her that night. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

"I heard some funny rumors around this place, Tony." The first mate stopped 
hauling in the rubber raft and looked at his young companion. Martin Kelly 
was a good-looking kid, seventeen or so and built like an athlete. 

"Such as, my friend?" 

"Such as you and Miss Gruder making out in the sack," Martin said. 

Antonio pulled at the rope and helped drag the raft full of fish over the 
surf and onto the beach before answering. "So what? She's a very nice lady, 
huh, kid? You like that stuff?" 

Martin blushed to the roots of his blond hair and gave a strangled laugh and 
a shrug of his shoulder. But he knew that what Antonio had said was pretty 
close to being right. He had seen old Gruder walking around in her shorts 
and brief halter and he found himself thinking of her totally naked and with 
him. It had been a long time since he had been with a girl. 

"Well, you better watch out or she'll get you," Antonio said, laughing loud, 
much to Martin's embarrassment. 

The boy said nothing but threw himself into the daily task of getting the 
first catch of the day cleaned and salted down as Antonio directed, making 
vulgar comments about Martin and Zelda. The boy ignored them and continued 
to clean fish. 

The had caught enough fish and clams for the next three meals in about two 
hours and later had them dressed for cooking or storing. Antonio left Martin 
then and went off to attend to something else. He didn't tell Martin what it 
was. 

After the work was done, the boy went back to the surf, diving expertly over 
the crest of the first wave and swimming effortlessly out into the blue calm 
water of the lagoon. He swam around for half hour and would have continued 
but the noise on the beach attracted his attention. He saw Joan and Ellen, 
Ronnie and Mary Pendergast running up and down the surf. From the distance 
he watched Joan's big boobs rolling under the skimpy top and thought that 
she was without a bra, hell, knew she was without a bra. And he knew, too 
that she was pretty much on the make for him, and, though he felt a stirring 
in his loins for the nubile teenager, he knew that she didn't really turn 
him on all that much. There was something too forward about her. that made 
him feel less a man than he was. But he thought about it, knowing that it 
was flattering to be liked in the way a man likes to be liked. It was a very 
physical thought he had then about Joan and with the quickening of his pulse 
he dove under the surface and swam underwater for a minute, breaking to the 
surface again with a splash and a gasp for air. 

He listened to the kids squealing and yelling in the water for a minute and 
then made his way to the beach, dropping down on the hot sand and breathing 
deeply. Martin watched the group for a while and then turned his attention 
to the surf, relaxing to its sound and the heat of the sun on his belly. For 
being shipwrecked, he mused, this wasn't too bad. 

The sound of the surf and the other kids changed suddenly and Martin turned 
his head. Bob Haas, the big kid son of some banker, obnoxious, but 
tough-looking, had arrived and was wrestling with Mary. Martin looked on 
without saying anything while the other kids continued to run up and down 
the edges of the surf, playing some sort of ball-tag with a clod of dried 
seaweed. He was about to go back to his reverie on the surf and the sun when 
he heard the girl suddenly scream. 

"Don't. Please, Bob, you're hurting me," Mary was saying. Still Martin 
didn't move, but he continued to watch, the peace of the morning broken for 
the moment. "Let go." 

He couldn't hear what Bob was saying, but he saw that the party was getting 
rough. Bob had his hand under Mary's shorts and his mouth trying to catch 
hers for a kiss, but the girl kept twisting her head away. 

Mary, he knew, was just not the type to take that kind of bold assault, but 
Bob was a lot bigger and stupid, perhaps, in not recognizing that the girl 
didn't want anything to do with him. Martin finally got up, dusted the sand 
from his damp behind and walked over to the struggling pair. 

"Let her alone, Bob," he said quietly. 

The muscular bully looked up and withdrew his hand from under Mary's shorts. 
He glared at Martin and then stood up. "You gonna make me?" 

"She's not interested," Martin said, watching Mary as she got up, 
straightened her shorts and walked off from the two of them and rejoined the 
others. "So leave her alone." 

"Kiss my ass," Bob said. "You find your own cunt and let me alone. I'm gonna 
make that broad." 

"You're stupid. We're not going to be here forever, and if you force 
yourself on her, she'll holler bloody murder. Besides, I can't really blame 
her for not being interested in you." 

"A wise ass," Bob said, stepping closer to Martin and shoving him on the 
shoulder. It was an open-palm punch, like a stiff-arm in football. Martin 
recoiled and then shoved Bob. But the other kid had been waiting and slammed 
his fist into Martin's side. It threw him off balance, off just enough for 
Bob to throw another punch and roll Martin down to the sand. They tumbled 
over in the hot sand, trading punches and curses. Then Martin flipped Bob 
clear and stood up. The other boy didn't get up right away and it seemed 
like the fight was over. They didn't say anything to each other; their eyes 
said all there was to say. Martin looked down and then turned away. 

"Fuck you," Bob cried out from the sand and hurled the stick of driftwood at 
Martin, catching the blond boy in the back of the head, turning the golden 
hair suddenly red with blood as the stick did its damage. Martin turned to 
come back, but the blow had made him dizzy. He staggered then fell. Bob ran 
to him, apologizing and then ran away. 

Zelda heard about the incident from the others who had helped Martin to the 
infirmary. She cleaned and dressed the wound, actually just a minor cut with 
no sign of any concussion. Still she couldn't be entirely sure, so she had 
the boy rest in her room, the coolest one at the camp for a couple of hours. 
He protested that he was all right, but she was very persuasive. 

An hour after he had been lying down, Zelda came in and began talking to 
him, even fixed some tea. "I hope that this will be the only fight that we 
have while we're stranded here," she said, serving the tea to Martin who had 
sat up on the edge of the bed. "As long as we're on this island, we'll have 
to work doubly hard to get along well with each other. I should think that 
you would know that, Martin. You're a natural leader, and I've been proud of 
the way you've helped with the fishing and making our lives comfortable." 

Martin sipped the hot tea, strange brew he thought for a hot tropical 
afternoon, but it felt warm and sweet going down. There wasn't much he could 
reply to Zelda's sermonizing. Of course, he knew that everyone should get 
along together. But he looked up at her and nodded his agreement, and his 
thoughts went back to his earlier conversation with Antonio. He wondered if 
the first mate was really making out with her. Slowly his gaze fell from her 
eyes down her deep cleavage and then to the full ripeness of her thighs 
tightly encased in the shorts. Her legs were slightly apart and Martin could 
see the fabric molded against the crotch, perfectly outlining the crease of 
her cunt and the soft swell of her pubes. 

He felt a flush of embarrassment when she spoke. "Is something the matter, 
Martin?" She said it softly, knowing all too well what was on the boy's 
mind. She had not been blind to the way his gaze dropped down and examined 
her body. She was tempted for an instant to open her legs ever wider, but 
thought better of it. Let him feel a little flushed, she thought. 

"I think that you had better rest a bit longer. A blow on the head doesn't 
show too many symptoms until a few hours later. Just lie down, Martin. I'll 
be right here." She reached over and took the cup from him, urging him back 
onto the cot with her cool hand against the boy's warm flesh. There was 
nothing wrong with him, she felt certain, but she liked to see his strong 
young body stretched out on her bed. She knew what she was going to do, but 
that would have to wait until later in the evening. She let him rest, 
placing a damp cloth over his forehead. 

Zelda felt nervous when she touched the boy's body, a shiver of anticipation 
running through her. He was quite different from Ronnie, she thought, and he 
would take some very special attention, but she knew that she had to have 
his muscular body wrapped between her thighs, knew that she wanted to feel 
his cock deep in her belly and in her mouth. She was almost tempted to make 
the first overture toward him, but the sun was still high in the tropic sky 
and there would be too much talk if she stayed in her quarters with him very 
long. Almost all of her charges had heard about the fight and Martin's 
injury, and she knew that they would be waiting down at the beach for her 
assurances. Martin had closed his eyes, she noticed, and she left him in the 
cool of her room to report to the other kids. 

They listened to her, intently at first, as she gave the medical condition 
of Martin, and then with less interest as she repeated her sermon about 
working and getting along together. She dismissed them and watched 
halfheartedly as they scattered back to the camp or down the beach, very far 
away from her, she noticed, and Ronnie and Ellen farther still. 

Zelda walked slowly along the beach in the opposite direction from the rest 
of the kids, knowing that she would undoubtedly run into Bob Haas somewhere. 
He must have been frightened, but Martin did say that he first made some 
apology. That was in his favor, but then he was frightened and that was what 
made him apologize, she thought. No matter. She'd have to talk to him, give 
him the rah-rah speech she had given the others and try to elicit a promise 
from him to be a little more cooperative. He was not too bright, she 
thought, and as she kicked at the sand she realized that he might be useful 
to her, useful just because he was a bully type. 

Knowing what had started the fight, Zelda knew that she had a way to make 
Bob Haas one of her more useful pupils. She was surprised, of course, that 
he had made a pass at the virginal Mary. She would have suspected that Joan 
would have been the target of his advances, but then, on second thought, she 
realized that Joan was too much a woman for Bob, too confident, too 
experienced for him. Zelda laughed and walked on, edging close to the surf 
as she became aware of the heat of the sand. 

She didn't find Haas on her walk that afternoon, but the day seemed so 
perfect that she continued walking down the beach, kicking sand and old 
memories. Surely, she thought, they would be found one day soon. It didn't 
seem possible to her that the wealthy parents of a dozen children would not 
raise heaven and hell to find them when the schooner failed to radio a 
position report or failed to reach its next destination. But in the 
meantime, she reminded herself, she was going to make the most of it, of the 
kids, taking her pleasures where she found them and savoring each one to the 
fullest degree. 

When she returned to the camp area, everyone was eating dinner. She greeted 
them and helped herself to the baked fish and clams. Delicious, she thought, 
but, oh, for a bucket of melted butter! Antonio had offered her some hot 
coconut oil once before, but it was too heavy. 

Since nothing had really happened for the two weeks that they were 
shipwrecked, the big news was Martin's run-in with Bob. Zelda caught the 
whisperings around the camp fire and saw that both Bob and Martin were 
eating, at opposite side of the area. There was no one around either of 
them. She weighed taking both of them in hand and making them become friends 
in front of the gathering, but dropped the idea when she saw Bob leave for 
his room. She would talk to him later. In the meantime, her thoughts were 
skittering around the erotic possibilities of Martin and over the 
butter-less clams. 

Some of the younger people came over to her and asked the perennial question 
of when she thought they would be rescued and she gave them her constant 
reply that she had no. idea and they were all to make the most of it and 
keep up their spirits, for rescued they would be. It was almost a nighttime 
ritual with one or more of them. At times, she felt like screaming at them 
but she held herself in check, knowing that she was the leader, the strong 
force in their suddenly directionless lives. 

Martin finished eating and started for the beach when he was called back by 
Zelda. The others had vanished to their rooms, fatigued from the length of 
their day and resigned to the light-less nights which offered no way of 
reading in bed. Zelda was thankful for the full days of freedom and the 
exertions of the beach. There had never been any sleeping problems. 

"I want to take another look at your head," Zelda said when the blond boy 
came over to her. "Come over to my room before you turn in." 

Martin looked at her closely, trying to fathom the deep blackness of her 
eyes and trying, too, to keep his eyes from wandering down to her cleavage. 
He nodded and walked away toward the beach. Zelda knew that he wanted to 
swim, something that she wished he wouldn't do, but she felt that he had 
sense enough to keep his bandaged head out of the water. Let him swim a 
little, she mused. Some fatigue and he'll be ready to feel some excitement. 

"He likes you, Mees Gruder," Antonio said, startling her as always by the 
way he suddenly appeared behind her or someplace when she didn't expect him. 
"He told me this morning while we were fishing." 

" 'Tonio, I wish you'd drop that damned "Mees" shit. Everyone here knows 
that's phony." 

"Just a little fun, Zelda, my darling cunt," he said. "By the way, while 
you're fucking up to that kid, I'll be having a little fun with someone 
else." 

"Didn't you get enough of that last night?" 

"Why, Zelda darling, I think you're jealous. But no, one has hardly broken 
in the girl yet." 

Zelda looked him in the eye. "Suppose the little girl doesn't want to go 
with you?" 

Antonio laughed quietly, his white teeth glistening in the light of the 
dying fire. "But the conchita and I have already made our arrangements, 
Zelda darling. It was she who asked me. See you later and have fun." He 
disappeared into the shadows, his laugh trailing after. 

Zelda shrugged and went to her room. The Kelly kid would be coming back from 
the beach soon and she wanted to make everything something special. She took 
down a couple of water tumblers and placed them on the table next to her 
medical bag. The glasses like the table and the quonset huts had been gifts 
of the previous military establishment tenants. She poured herself a stiff 
drink and sat down, sipping it slowly as she waited for Martin to come to 
her. 

I'm going to fuck myself silly before we're rescued, she thought. She sipped 
her drink and let her hand drop between her legs. She realized then that she 
was hot and sticky from the day's activities and suddenly rose from the 
chair and stripped out of her clothes, slipping into the robe that had been 
among some of the items washed ashore after the wreck. She would bathe for 
Martin and, taking the lantern, left the room and walked down to the 
fresh-water pool. 

She propped the lantern against a rock, dropped her robe, and stepped into 
the small beam of light that shone on the water. It was cool and refreshing, 
despite the lack of soap, but she felt cleaner. She swam a little way out 
into the water, rolling onto her back to see the brilliant stars overhead 
and the feeble light of the lantern on the shore. Actually, she hadn't swum 
very far but the effect was like being miles from the little lantern. She 
dove under and opened her eyes, catching the glow of the lamp even through 
the water, flickering wildly from the wave movements of her dive. She swam 
underwater toward it, feeling her hair stream out behind her and liking the 
sensuous feeling. 

Zelda had never been much for swimming alone or in the dark, but this night 
she felt entranced with the sensation and idly wondered why she had not done 
it more often during the last two weeks. When her head broke the surface, 
very near the shore and the lantern, she heard giggling. It was just an 
instant but she heard it and knew that one or more kids were at the pool. 
She almost wanted to stay in the water and wait until they left, but that 
would have been foolish. She rose and acted as if she had not heard the 
voices and sat down on the cool mossy rock next to the lantern. Let 'em see 
me, she thought. They'll all be seeing me one way or another. She listened 
as the warm air dried her flesh and tried to hear something in the brush, 
but the giggling had gone away and after a few minutes she felt that she was 
all alone again. Slowly she got up and put on her robe, then, picking up the 
lantern, she returned to her room. The water had refreshed her and she felt 
more than ready for Martin. She waited. 

He knocked at her door just as she was pouring another drink for herself. 
"Come in." They exchanged some pleasantries, but Zelda could see that he was 
a little ill at ease looking at her in her robe. "Would you like a little 
brandy? It might be good for you. Come on," she added smiling, "I know 
you've had a few drinks before, a young man like you." 

He nodded and accepted the tumbler that Zelda pushed toward him. "My head 
feels fine," he said, wincing at the first sip of the brandy. 

She felt that there was something else that he wanted to say, but she knew 
that it would have to be her move to make him come to her. She let her robe 
slip just a bit to reveal a few more inches of smooth-fleshed thigh. Her 
eyes never left his face and his sudden reaction to the sight of her bare 
flesh made his eyes flicker downward and then up quickly, only to pause at 
the opening at her bosom. Still Zelda felt that she only had to wait a few 
more minutes. Let the brandy do some of the work, she thought. 

Martin gulped the remainder of his drink and looked around the room, his 
eyes pausing longingly at the slightly unmade bed at the other side of the 
room. He wanted to say something to this woman, something that would make 
her accept him as more of a man than his years indicated, but there was 
nothing that came to his tongue. 

"I think I got the bandage wet," he finally blurted out. "That's what made 
me come out of the water. I guess there are probably sharks around here." 

An opening, Zelda thought. Nervous. He wants what I show him. A moment of 
tease longer. Hurry. 

"I'll look at it," she said and rose, carrying the lantern with her. What an 
unnecessary gesture, she realized. He could have turned around on the chair. 
Forget it. She put the lantern down beside him and very professionally 
examined the wet bandage, lifting it off to see that the wound was clean. 
Deftly, she fixed another plaster and covered the cut in his head, but her 
fingers lingered over the bandage and she leaned forward, swaying her big 
boobs out to brush against his bare shoulders. 

Suddenly he turned to her and his face came hot and eager against her 
breast. Now, she thought, and pulled his head close to her throbbing body, 
letting him feel and smell her body's musky woman odor. She sighed as his 
fingers tentatively reached for the edges of the robe and eased one side 
apart; slowly, slidingly, maddeningly, he scraped the thin fabric back to 
expose one heavy and perfectly formed breast. Zelda sighed again and pushed 
herself against his burning face. 

"Quick. Get out of those wet shorts, Martin," she said huskily and then 
stepped back from the boy on the chair and dropped her robe. "Is this what 
you want? I want you to have me, Martin. Now turn off the lantern and come 
with me." 

He almost knocked the light over turning it out, and, as Zelda settled 
herself down on the bed, she could hear him rustling out of his shorts and 
stumbling across the bare floor. A fraction of time was all it took, but it 
seemed suspended as Zelda waited for him and suddenly he was there, his hot 
body, tightly muscled and damp with the nervous sweat of anticipation, was 
pressing up against hers. His mouth found her mouth and she eagerly opened 
her lips to accept his kiss. A gentle brush of mouths and then her arm 
snaked behind his head and pulled him down closer to her, jaws parting and 
tongues quickly entwining in wet searing contact. 

Zelda's hand slid down his back, over his rock-hard buttocks, then slipped 
between their straining bodies and fastened on his rigid cock. She squeezed 
the swollen penis and began stroking it, slowly and tantalizingly until she 
could hear him groan with the pleasure. He pulled away from her mouth and 
ran his face down to her bosom, sucking first one nipple into the heat of 
his mouth until it was stiff with desire and the other. She, too, moaned her 
pleasure in what he was doing and stroked his cock faster. 

"Go down on me, Martin," she whispered. "That's what a man does, Martin. 
Lick my pussy." Another moan of desire escaped her lips and she began to 
pump his cock as fast as she could until she felt his athletic body slide 
down her damp flesh, leaving a new trail of moisture and heat. She let go of 
his cock finally and spread her legs wide, bringing her feet up in the air 
and rolling her round hips up to meet the boy's mouth. 

Martin had never done anything like this before, but he had heard about it 
and the fever that raced through his body then made him forget all that he 
had ever been taught about things like this being bad. He felt her warm damp 
thighs slowly close around his neck, then rest gently on his shoulders and 
the excitement drove him mad with desire. He lowered his face to the humid 
pouch of the woman's box and stuck his tongue into the damp folds of her 
pussy, tasting the tartness of her juices and finding it to his liking. 
Later he would deny that aspect of what he was doing, but in the heat of his 
own lust her cunt was the greatest delicacy he had ever tasted. 

Zelda's hands went behind his head and steered his tongue and mouth to the 
pulsating nub of pleasure between her legs. She enclosed his head in the 
cushion of her soft thighs and slowly rotated her hips, grinding the hole of 
pleasure closer to his young mouth. She rose quickly up the standard scale 
of pleasure, moaning and breathing heavily as she sought for the bursting 
release of the orgasm that was just on the edge of her flight. 

Her blood boiled and her emotions crested, and then she was descending down 
the elevator shaft, sucking in her breath and humping her ass up and down on 
the covers of the bed, slamming her pussy against Martin's mouth and tongue 
until she felt the final spasm that tightened her stomach muscles and made 
her legs stiffen out on either side of the boy. 

She cried over and over again of how wonderfully he had eaten her cunt and 
felt a liar at the same time for her mind was thrilling more to the idea of 
making the clean-cut, ail-American boy eat her and eat her and like it. She 
gloried in the power she knew she held over him and when he pulled himself 
up over her body, she gladly spread her legs wide again and accepted his 
over-stimulated cock into the eager wet lips of her cunt. She would give him 
a ride. Oh! yes such a ride! 

Her hands slipped down and guided his cock true to the target and while his 
face pressed down on her breast she wrapped her legs around his narrow 
waist, her hips high off the bed and rolling madly to the tune of his boyish 
thrusts. The song of lust was sweet but much too short. Zelda had forgotten 
how over-stimulated the lad had become and when he shot his load of hot 
sperm into her seething cavity and collapsed in exhaustion over her body, 
she continued to hold him in the vise of her sweaty thighs, milking his cock 
with her abdominal twitching until she felt his worm of love slip out of the 
unsatisfied box. Yet, this too, was a mastery of him, and she knew that it 
would not take long for the boy-man to come back hard and strong and tear 
once more into her velvet purse. 

Zelda let his cock fall limply away from her and relaxed her legs to allow 
him to roll off her body. It was a tender moment for him, he all quiet and 
appreciative and thankful for the gift of her body that she had given him 
while she was smiling, gloating to herself, and waiting to let him restore 
his vigor. 

"Oh that was good, so good," she whispered to him as he pressed his face 
into the nape of her neck. "But let me up. I'll get us some brandy, dear." 

Zelda took a long swallow of the brandy and then placed the glass on the 
floor at the foot of the bed. A shaft of moonlight broke through the window, 
illuminating the room dimly but enough for her to see that Martin was nearly 
asleep, eyes closed and breath regular. Not for long, she thought, and bent 
over his body, taking the limp, sticky cock between her fingers and rolling 
back the foreskin. She manipulated it for a moment and then lowered her 
head, opening her mouth slightly, lips still moist with brandy. Her tongue 
licked out and coiled over the sleeping penis. He hardly stirred. Zelda 
moved an inch lower, pressing her lips over the head, closing them tightly 
around the limp flesh to form a hot ring and then sucked the meat inside, 
letting the glans grate across her teeth. 

Martin twitched, made a soft moan and woke from the light sleep. "Oh. Oh." 
He felt his cock buried in the warmth of her face, but for a few seconds he 
didn't realize what the terribly beautiful sensations were and then he saw 
her head at his crotch. 

His cock was not hard, but Zelda felt the swelling as she worked her tongue 
and teeth over the sensitive nerves, teasing, sucking, licking, trying to 
swallow his stick of flesh. She dropped her head over the still limp cock 
until its entire flaccid length was coiled inside her head and her lips and 
nose were pressed against the wiry brush of his pubic hair. But that was 
only for an instant that she had her mouth full of him. Martin's young, 
thick cock then began to swell rapidly, stiffening out and lengthening until 
Zelda's mouth was forced to make room for it by raising up. It was hard and 
just right for her, but she continued to suck and bob her head up and down 
over the swollen member, tasting his salty flesh mixed with the dried-juice 
smell of her own cunt. 

Martin's breath gasped painfully, pleasurably as Zelda's mouth worked his 
cock into a new frenzy. He heaved his hips upward to meet her mouth, tried 
to ram his cock deep into her mouth, but she was wise and held him back, 
held him from an orgasm that his mind knew was about to explode through him. 
Then she changed her position. Her mouth was down at his scrotum, wet-lipped 
mouth sucking in his testicles, sending him into new spasms of frenzy. 

Just as he thought that he could stand it no longer, she stopped and crawled 
up over his hot, damp body, and rolling her firm round buttocks tauntingly, 
lowered her love-lubricated orifice over his pounding cock. She sank down, 
crushing his thighs with the firm flesh of her own and then began a quick 
rolling of her hips. There was no perceptible movement from the outside, but 
her insides squeezed his cock, milked it. 

He needed no encouragement to put his hands over her large inviting breasts 
nor to crush them in his hands, pinching the nipples more erect than they 
had been when he sucked them. She moaned with the new pleasure, so 
unexpected and unprompted, but so desired. She arched her body forward, 
swinging her breasts down toward his mouth and he knew what to do with the 
fiery globes of flesh. He mouthed each for a moment, hardly giving one 
enough before he moved to the other. 

Zelda loved the dominant position, and it was not only the psychological 
mastery that it gave her, but the pure animal pleasure of being able to 
control the contact of his cock in and around her cunt, the ability to steer 
it with her body until it reached all the secret places of her sensitive 
core and make them throb with expectant release. She would roll her hips and 
crush down on him and then raise her body until just the thrusting head of 
his cock was nudging at the door of her cunt and then she would plunge down 
on his manly piston-rod until it felt as though it would stab through her 
mouth. 

It was with a supreme thought of control that she reached her peak and 
pumped herself down rapidly over his penis, ramming herself down on it, 
until she felt her will and her body tense and then grow limp with 
passion-filled fatigue. 

Martin's own passion rose quickly with her hurried movements and he, too, 
reached his peak and shot himself into her, holding his hard-on as long as 
he could before resting in deep gasps for air. Zelda's weight pressed down 
on him, but he didn't care. His fatigue was too great to care and he was 
glad that he was strong enough to hold her, to let her rest out her final 
spasms of lust on top of his body, and he never once felt that he was 
trapped beneath the weight of her passionate flesh. It was something that 
would come later. 

Zelda had no idea of what time it was when Martin finally left her and 
returned to his own room. She didn't care and she wasn't tired. After he had 
gone, she lit the lantern again and poured another drink, sipped it 
thoughtfully, and wondered idly where her next keen sense of fulfillment 
would come from. Martin had been very good, but in the stillness of the 
tropic night, the real warmth of the air getting to her, she felt a desire 
for the soft flesh of a young girl. An idle thought. She laughed and told 
herself that it was a real thought and she would have it reality before 
long. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Zelda woke with a furry taste in her mouth. She knew it was the brandy, but 
there was the fatigue of the boy's body, too. She felt lousy and she knew it 
was from what she had done, what she had been doing. Yet, what else was 
there? She tried to justify her actions with her charges, but on a purely 
intellectual basis there was simply none. In the diffused glow of the bright 
sunlight streaming through her windows, she looked at her body. It wasn't 
jaded or turned like the portrait of Dorian Gray, but she felt some of the 
wickedness come through her conscience, a hangover, both boozy and from 
puritanical upbringing, she thought. 

The passionate nature of the night was shunted aside as she thought of how 
she must be able to keep control of the dozen kids. And then she thought of 
Bob Haas. She had let him go the night before, concerned more for her own 
sexual satisfaction than she was in exercising her authority. 

But the daylight reminded her of her duties, and she knew that she would 
have to have a talk with Bob Haas before the end of the day. As she dressed, 
she resolved herself to the uncomfortable task. In the last analysis, she 
didn't really like the boy at all. Again she was hit with more 
self-chastisement. Supervisors should not have those kinds of thoughts, she 
reminded herself. 

Hours around the camp, she thought, had become much too lax. Breakfast had 
already been prepared and served for all the kids and she had missed it. Yet 
no one had bothered to come to her quarters and remind her of the time. Were 
they not caring about her anymore? She let the thought fall away from her 
like the sand under her feet as she walked toward the cooking area. Only 
Antonio was waiting. 

"Some fruit, Zelda?" 

She nodded and accepted the wild melon slice, cool and wet, despite the heat 
of the day. Ellen, she noticed, was sitting under a tree not far from the 
cooking area, but far enough away so that Antonio's voice would not be 
heard. Zelda quickly surmised what the relationship was, but she couldn't 
bring herself to say anything. What could she say? It was she who had really 
seduced the girl and turned her over to Antonio. Now it was the girl's turn 
to make decisions. If she liked it.... To hell with it, Zelda thought and 
started to turn away from her dark-eyed lover. 

"Don't be jealous," he said softly. "After all, you had the ail-American boy 
last night. So what's the difference? I thought we had an agreement. But in 
case you've forgotten, remember this. I'm the only one around with a weapon, 
and I'm the only one who knows how to use it. Those kids might rebel one of 
these days and just might slit your throat, Mees Gruder." 

She walked away from him, but she walked in the opposite direction of Ellen. 
What he had said might be true, but she was still in control. But she didn't 
want to argue about it then. Her head hurt and she was shaking just a little 
bit. She knew she needed rest. 

"Hey, Zelda," he said even more softly. "We're on the same side. And just in 
case you're interested, you're much better in the sack than the kid over 
there." 

Zelda managed a smile as she turned to him. "In that case, don't rub my nose 
in it, darling." She paused for a moment, wanting to slam some other insult 
into him, but she remembered her unfinished business. "By the way, partner, 
would you get Bob Haas to come to my quarters? I have to give him a little 
hell for the fight yesterday." 

"If that's hell, Zelda, then what can heaven be like?" 

She ignored the remark and glared at him. He smiled and nodded, affirming 
that he would get the boy for her and make him go to her room. 

Her confidence renewed that Antonio was still frightened of her in some way, 
Zelda changed directions and walked over to Ellen. 

The girl smiled up, a smile of intrigue and knowledge. Miss Gruder no longer 
scared her or represented the authority as far as she was concerned. Zelda 
returned the smile. 

"It was a great evening," she said, still looking right into Zelda's face. 
"I managed to bring Antonio off about three times with my mouth. Do you 
enjoy sucking cock, too, Miss Gruder? I just love it." 

"I'd rather not discuss it," Zelda said. 

"It's better than eating cunt," the girl said. "A lot better, especially 
when Antonio licks mine at the same time. Groovy. Ever had it that way?" 

Zelda resisted the impulse to slap the girl's face. "We'll talk about it 
sometime. I was just wondering if you had seen Bob around this morning. If 
you do, have him come to my quarters. I want to talk to him." 

She turned away from the girl, not wanting to hear any more of the girl's 
foul tongue. For an instant, Zelda felt that twinge of conscience again, 
feeling that she had generated a monster in Ellen, but it passed quickly and 
she walked away from the smiling Antonio and the smug-faced teenager. 

Zelda walked down to the beach and sat in the sand, running the soft white 
granules through her toes and gazing indifferently out onto the blue water. 
Her eye caught the splash in the distance and she realized that it was 
Martin, swimming alone again and much too far out. She wanted to cry out to 
him, but she caught herself, realizing that he looked so perfect there in 
the lonely water. She laid down on the sand instead, letting the hot sun 
bake the guilty thoughts and the hangover out of her system. He would be all 
right, she thought. 

The salt water stung Martin's eyes, blurring the shore. He saw someone come 
down there and sit, but he didn't think about who it might be and he didn't 
care. The water was his cleansing medium. It would take away the filth of 
the night before and, even as he thought about it, he wanted to plunge to 
the bottom of the clear lagoon and stay there placidly among the thousands 
of colorful fish and the inviting beckoning of the dark growth there. 

It seemed in the brilliance of the day to all have been a dream. He wanted 
to say to himself that he had not put his mouth against Grader's cunt, not 
licked the tart-smelling crotch, not been a cunt-lapper, derisive butt of so 
many jokes. But he had. And he opened his mouth for a penitential swallow of 
salt water, spitting it high over his head as if to clear himself in that 
way. He began to wonder then about the story that the kid Ronnie had told 
after he was called to Grader's quarters. Did she suck him off? The kid said 
she did. To hell with it, Martin thought, and dove under the blue water 
again. He felt that he had done something that was against his code, but she 
had done it to him. She was really the bad one, he thought, surfacing at 
last and taking great gulps of air. She was the bad one. And he would remain 
pure. 

The sun became too warm for her and Zelda got up from the sand, brushing the 
stuff from her body. She looked again out onto the lagoon and saw Martin. He 
was still swimming strong. There was no need to worry about him, she 
thought, and then she turned and walked back to her room. It was only 
slightly cooler there, but there was the brandy, and she felt that she 
needed the drink then, a kind of a hair-of-the-dog cure, most effective she 
had been told by drinkers of long standing. 

Ellen and Antonio were gone from the cooking area when she passed by, but 
she didn't give them much more thought. They would be experiencing 
everything, even in the heat of the day. 

She had just settled down to a drink when one of the younger girls came in 
with a cut foot. Her name was Ann Zimmer, age fifteen and some months. 
Precocious and very well developed for her age. Zelda bandaged the cut and 
felt the stirrings of the previous night after Martin had left her. The girl 
seemed to be willing for anything, Zelda thought, but then, she added, all 
the damned kids of this group seemed willing for just about anything. 

Zelda smiled her most professional smile, a condescending smile that she had 
always twitted in private and yet knew was effective. She could see in the 
girl's face that the girl wanted just a little more than a bandage, but did 
she want that much? Zelda fought with herself in the instant that it took to 
think about it. And she gave in. 

Ann Zimmer was one of the early developers, both physically and emotionally. 
Zelda thought that she might not be a virgin, but she wasn't sure. The girl 
had almost the same cockiness, if that was the right word for a girl, that 
Joan had, a kind of worldliness beyond her years. It was not entirely 
unbecoming, Zelda thought, but there was something very irritating about the 
girl's attitude, too, something that made Zelda want to hurt, subjugate. 

"That should do it," Zelda said, sitting back on her chair after bandaging 
the foot. Yet the girl didn't make any move to get away, not even when Zelda 
picked up her glass of brandy and sipped it slowly. The nurse tried to avoid 
the girl's eyes, thinking that indifference would be the best bait to get 
the girl's young body next to her own. 

Zelda became conscious of the stillness of the hot afternoon, a quiet that 
made the birds silent as if any effort would only increase their discomfort. 
The other kids had gone somewhere else, down to the beach, Zelda surmised, 
or off into the jungle. Was there something about her that the girl guessed? 
Had Ellen told? Zelda sipped her brandy and turned finally to the girl, not 
caring one way or another whether the girl knew about her. 

"Is there something else, Ann?" 

The girl shook her head, but she still didn't get up to leave. "It's very 
hot, isn't it, Miss Gruder?" There was a long pause as Zelda nodded her 
head, choosing to remain silent also. "Miss Gruder," the girl said again, 
"will we be rescued pretty soon?" 

There was the question again, over and over. Zelda wanted to scream that she 
didn't know and didn't really give a damn, but she smiled at the youngster. 
"That's very hard to say, Ann. We must simply make the most of what we have 
until help arrives. 

Zelda thought for a moment that the girl was about to cry, but then she 
realized that the girl was just making idle conversation. She was stalling. 
She was waiting for something. Perhaps Ellen had told. 

Without saying anything, Zelda poured herself another drink. She had turned 
from the girl, but she was conscious of her presence, aware of the girl's 
nubile young body and only too aware of how much she herself wanted to 
fondle that body, crush the sweet lips of her juvenile pubes to her mouth, 
lick deep into the virginal hole and bring out the wildest emotions that the 
girl had ever dreamed of. But there was that irritating quality about Ann 
that kept Zelda standing off, kept her from doing what she knew she wanted 
to do and what she felt certain the girl wanted her to do. Zelda gritted her 
teeth and then took another sip of brandy. 

"I think that you had better run along and find the others, Ann. Perhaps you 
can come back this evening and we'll have more time to talk. I'm sorry, 
dear, but I feel the heat right now, and I think that I'll take a nap. You 
understand?" 

Zelda turned and looked closely at the girl again. She nodded her head and 
her eyes swept over the soft contours of the youthful body, still girlish 
and yet almost fully blossomed into womanhood. Oh, yes, Zelda thought, you 
most certainly can come back. She was about to tell Ann that there was no 
need for her to go when there was a knock at the door. 

Bob Haas was standing sheepishly outside the screen, big physique outlined 
in the glare of the mid-day sun. 

"You wanted to see me, Miss Gruder?" 

Zelda told Ann to run along and told Bob to come in. The two passed each 
other at the entry without saying a word. Ann had given the boy a slight 
smile, but he didn't acknowledge it. 

"Sit down, Bob," Zelda said, pointing to the chair that Ann had vacated. 
"You know, of course, why I called you here. I won't go into the fight you 
had yesterday. Let's just forget that incident. Fortunately there was no 
serious damage done." 

"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I just threw it. I didn't know that it would 
hurt him. I didn't think that I would hit him, even." 

Zelda shrugged. "It doesn't matter right now, but you must understand that 
we're here and we must all cooperate. We can't afford to have fights. We 
have to work together. We're here for survival and we're lucky to be alive. 
And I think that you know that." 

He hung his head and nodded agreement. "But there's something that I want to 
tell you," he blurted out and the words said were regretted instantly. 

Zelda looked at him closely. He was big for his age, spoiled, used to having 
his own way in everything, she thought. What does he want to tell? She 
almost laughed when she thought of how she guessed that he would be a good 
ally, an ear to the children's camp, and how she was going to make him that 
way. Now? "Well, Bob?" 

"I didn't mean anything," he said. 

"Of course, Bob. But I think that there's something bothering you. Wouldn't 
you like to tell me?" 

He started to get up, but Zelda stepped in front of him, her blouse open 
more than usual to let in whatever breath of air she could find. He knew it 
was for the heat, yet he felt intimidated by it, too, and to look up at 
Zelda rather than stare at the firm, globes of her breasts. He met her eyes 
and then turned away. "It's Ronnie," he said softly. "Ronnie says you did 
something to him." 

"What did Ronnie say?" 

Bob stammered and the blood rushed to his face. "He said that you did 
something to him with your mouth." 

Zelda smiled at the boy's embarrassment, tempted at first to say the words 
for him, but then enjoying his discomfort more and more. She urged him. "My 
mouth?" 

Bob's face was now beet red and he tried to look away from the woman who 
stood before him. His eyes fell and came to rest on the bare flesh of her 
bosom where her blouse was open. "He said you sucked him." 

"Sucked him? But what do you mean. Bob?" She was beginning to enjoy it more 
and more. 

"He said that you sucked his, his . . . you know. He said that you sucked 
his prick." It came out quickly and Bob jumped to his feet and made for the 
door, but Zelda held him back. He tried to break loose, but she put herself 
between him and the door. 

"Did you believe him?" 

Bob turned away from her and nodded his head. Zelda wanted to laugh at him. 

"Well," she said at last, "I did blow him. He was so nervous that I thought 
that he might hurt himself in despair. Do you understand that?" 

Bob shook his head. 

"It doesn't matter, but I hope that you'll put a stop to his talking about 
it." She knew what was burning in the boy's mind and she waited, savoring 
his chagrin and his tied tongue. "I wouldn't want everyone to know our 
little secret, Bob. And I can be very nice to those who help me out, if you 
know what I mean." 

Zelda closed the door, making the stillness of the hot afternoon even more 
oppressive, but suddenly the heat didn't bother her much. She wanted to take 
the boy's cock, big cock, she guessed, into her mouth and suck him until he 
cried with delight. But she was going to do more. 

Bob turned to her when he heard the door close and looked at her face. Zelda 
was smiling and slowly unbuttoning the rest of her blouse. "Would you? I 
mean do it to me, too?" Zelda dropped her blouse on the floor, exposing her 
full breasts, the nipples already stiff with anticipated desire. 

"Take your shorts off, Bob," she said coolly. "I want to examine you 
closely." 

He dropped his shorts and stood in front of her completely naked. His cock 
stuck out like a flagpole, hard and even bigger than she had imagined. She 
felt a quiver of desire between her legs, but she didn't show it and tried 
to force it away. Slowly she walked over to her chair and sat down, picking 
up her drink and sipping at it. "Come here, Bob," she said sharply, 
surprising the boy who obeyed immediately. 

When he was right in front of her, she reached over and cupped his scrotum, 
weighing the passion-filled bag and silently approving. "Spread your legs," 
she said again with the sharp note of command and he spread his legs. 
"Wider." When he obeyed, she ran her hand under him and eased a finger into 
the outer ring of his ass. 

"Tell me, Bob. Have you ever had a blowjob before?" He shook his head, "But 
you do fuck girls, don't you?" 

"A couple," he said hoarsely, feeling suddenly very foolish standing in 
front of the semi-naked grown woman with his hard-on almost in her face. He 
wanted to move his cock right into her mouth, but he felt that she was the 
one to make the first move. So he stood there and replied uneasily to her 
questioning. 

"Didn't the girls ever suck you off?" Again he just shook his head, his 
voice caught in his throat as her finger began a slow in and out pulsing at 
his anus. "But did you ask them to?" Again just a shake of his head. "I bet 
you really wanted some of them to suck your prick, though, didn't you?" Bob 
nodded. 

"Did you ever eat a girl's cunt?" 

"No," he cried out and pushed his cock toward Zelda's mouth. She stopped him 
by grabbing the throbbing member with her other hand, squeezing the shaft of 
flesh tightly in her grip. 

"You've been missing half the fun of fucking, Bob," she said, smiling up at 
his discomforted expression. "I think that you should eat cunt before you 
get a blowjob, don't you?" 

"I ... I . .. don't know. I've never done anything like that," he said. 

"We'll change all that, won't we? If I suck your cock, will you eat my 
cunt?" 

The blood was roaring to head. He felt dizzy and more excited than he could 
ever remember. "Yes, yes," he finally blurted. "I'll do anything, Miss 
Gruder. But please do something." 

"How many times a day do you masturbate?" Zelda asked it matter-of-factly 
and began to stroke his cock slowly. "Once? Twice? Tell me, Bob. I have to 
know how passionate you are." Inside her head she was gloating as his face 
turned even more purple. 

"Once. Sometimes not at all." 

"Show me, Bob. I want to see you jack off," she whispered, releasing her 
hold of his cock and then guiding one of his hands down to it. "Just give me 
a few movements, Bob. Then I'll blow you, but jack it first." 

She could see that he was reluctant, but he dared not refuse. Slowly, he 
worked his hand around his cock and began to rub it up and down, gradually 
increasing the speed as the desire for release overcame his embarrassment of 
Zelda's presence. He closed his eyes and beat his cock faster and faster 
until Zelda stopped him suddenly and pulled him close to her face. 

His thick red knob glided over her lips and her tongue whipped out to 
cushion the glans from her teeth. She swallowed hard and began licking the 
sensitive underside of his penis until she heard him moaning with pleasure, 
felt the tightening of his buttocks around her still probing finger. Bob 
rolled his hips forward, sinking his cock deeper into her mouth, but she had 
wrapped her free hand around the base of it by then and limited his entry to 
the hot wet hole of her head. Then it was her turn to become the aroused one 
and she sucked and salivated over his prick with frenzy. Suddenly he began 
to shake all over and, knowing that he was about to come, Zelda rammed her 
finger as hard as she could up his ass just as he unloaded his thick spurt 
of semen into the back of her throat. Zelda sighed and swallowed it with 
pleasure, sucking until he was beginning to grow limp. 

She washed down his love juice with a short jolt of brandy. He was still 
standing in front of her when she looked up at him. "Was that good?" 

"Oh, yes. That's the greatest." But now the passion was ebbing and he felt 
like running as far from the woman as he could. 

"You can get dressed, Bob, and if you want any more of the same treatment, 
you'll have to keep it very secret. And you can do something else, too, 
Bob." 

"Sure. Anything at all. Just name it." 

"I want you to keep me informed about everything that goes on. You know, be 
my secret ears when the kids are talking. If you do that for me, I'll be 
happy to show some other things, too. Wouldn't you like to fuck me, Bob? 
Stick that cock of yours into my cunt?" 

He nodded, suddenly embarrassed by her words. Quickly he pulled his shorts 
up and walked to the door. Zelda waved good-bye, confident that he would be 
back with everything that she ever wanted to know about what went on behind 
her back. 

After he had gone, Zelda stripped out of her shorts and put on her robe. The 
heat in the hut remained as oppressive as it had been all day, but she felt 
cooler in the robe, enough cooler to try to take the promised nap. Sexual 
excitement and a little brandy, she thought, made one helluva fine sleeping 
potion. 

By staying very still, Zelda found that the heat did not bother her so much. 
She stretched out on the bed, relaxed, and felt the first soothing edges of 
rest come to her along with thoughts of little Ann Zimmer. She wondered 
momentarily whether the precocious girl would return after dark. Certainly 
Ann wanted something more than talk, something that Zelda would have given 
her had Bob not arrived on the scene. But the boy had arrived and she felt 
that his needs were more important. 

Zelda closed her eyes and put herself to sleep, thinking of how she would 
make Ann, make Ann the aggressor and really humble her for the behavior 
Zelda disliked. The girl had been too suggestive, almost open in wanting 
Zelda to make a pass at her. It was the obviousness of her actions that 
irritated Zelda, and she would pay for them, Ann would pay for them, that 
is. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Ann Zimmer waited until everything was quiet in the area before she ventured 
out and moved softly through the sand to Zelda's quarters. The moon was very 
bright and it reminded Ann of the times that she had sneaked down to her 
former nurse's house in past summers, knowing that the woman was waiting for 
her, waiting to give her the kind of thrills that even in the lonely fear of 
the damned, island Ann remembered. It seemed such a long time ago, the 
previous summer, but the thrills remained in her mind and she could already 
feel herself getting excited by the thought that Miss Gruder was the same 
way, a lesbian who liked to lick a young cunt, hopefully her cunt, she 
thought as she walked more quickly toward the nurse's hut. 

The lantern in Zelda's hut was lit, and Ann could see the woman's silhouette 
against the blinds, a huge shadow of her head as she sat at the table. Ann 
hurried and then slowed and finally stopped, a moment of panic and 
reluctance. It crossed her mind that perhaps Miss Gruder was not like her 
old nurse. What then? She was almost ready to return and forget the whole 
thing, but there was that old burning between her legs, that expectant 
feeling of gratification that she had known so often before and would have 
continued to know if they had not been caught going at it with each other. 
Ann felt a flush of shame as she remembered her father walking in that night 
as she and the nurse were tangled up in each other's cunts, doing 
sixty-nine, an expression that Ann loved even though they had only done it 
twice before. Again she felt a moment of chagrin, but the desire was too 
powerful. She had to find out about Miss Gruder. 

Ann knocked softly at the screen door, opening it when she heard Zelda tell 
her to come in. The lantern seemed much dimmer than it had from the outside, 
and Miss Gruder seemed more relaxed, sitting at the table drinking a cup of 
tea. 

Zelda offered the girl tea and poured. "Now then, Ann, what can I do for 
you?M For a moment, Ann wanted to laugh and tell the woman that she wanted 
to be eaten, but she saw that Zelda was quietly serious and knew that she 
had to take another way to approach her. 

"I don't know, Miss Gruder," she said softly, letting the tears form in her 
eyes. "This island. I don't know," she said, finally genuinely feeling the 
real panic that her passion only covered superficially. She let the tears 
roll down her cheeks. "I'm scared we won't ever be going home again." More 
tears. 

To herself Zelda was smiling, reading the girl's tearful ploy with cool 
indifference. Under other circumstances, Zelda would have taken the girl to 
her bosom, comforted her with reassuring words. She would have done that 
that afternoon, had the girl not been so obvious about it. Still the girl 
did seem scared and perhaps it was real, after all. But Zelda waited for the 
real tears to follow and then she would make her move. She sipped her tea 
and waited for Ann to turn it on full force. 

Ann slopped tea onto the table and she blubbered more about being afraid 
that they would never be going home, but Zelda gave her the quiet words that 
she had been repeating for the past couple of weeks, that everything was 
going to be all right as long as everyone kept his head and simply enjoyed 
themselves. But Zelda did not make a move to physically hold the girl. She 
knew that would come later, quite a bit later, Zelda thought as she realized 
how transparently the girl was trying to lure her into a relationship. Again 
Zelda felt that irritation of the afternoon creep into her mind. Well, she 
thought, Miss Zimmer would have to really put out if she wants to get that 
kind of loving. 

Zelda poured more tea and waited, talking softly to the girl all the time 
and idly wondering where Antonio was. This was the type of little snit that 
Zelda would have enjoyed Antonio raping, would have loved to watch as the 
burly first mate's thick cock stretched Ann's vaginal walls until they would 
seem like they were splitting. The thought carried itself down to Zelda's 
loins, a searing suggestion that she had been left quite unsatisfied that 
afternoon; despite the thrill of sucking off Bob or any cock she still felt 
a need for herself, more so as she thought about it. 

Ann had stopped crying for a few minutes and Zelda felt that perhaps her 
indifference had gone too far. It was a panic thought, for she knew that she 
wanted to have the young girl's body close to hers, taste the virginal lips, 
caress the big tits and make the girl so excited that her own pussy would be 
satisfied before Ann's. Quietly she put down her tea cup and stood up, her 
robe sliding suggestively open at the top as she leaned over the girl and 
patted her on the head. 

Ann needed no further encouragement. She wrapped her arms around the soft 
contours of Zelda's hips, squeezing her hands into the woman's firm, 
well-rounded buttocks. She pressed her face against Zelda's abdomen and let 
the tears flow, her shoulders shaking with the sobs that suddenly became 
more real than she had intended. 

Zelda held the girl close, soothing her with quiet words and running her 
hands down the girl's shoulders to test and tease the youthful flesh. She 
wanted to plunge her hand down the girl's blouse, seek out the firm globes 
of her young breasts and squeeze them into soft mounds of quivering desire. 
But she withheld her hand and let the girl make the first tentative moves, 
let the girl's fingers squeeze the flesh of her ass and waited as Ann grew 
bolder. 

The girl's sobbing stopped except for a few intermittent shakes, but Zelda 
could feel the hot breath of the youngster against her flesh through the 
thin robe. Ann was, becoming warmer and warmer to her touch and the 
closeness of Zelda's cunt must have given the girl new encouragement. 
Suddenly Ann moved her hand down Zelda's thigh, sliding it slowly down the 
thin fabric until it reached the hem and then her hand shot up and rested on 
Zelda's pubic mound. 

"Oh, Miss Gruder," she cried softly. "Please let me love you. Let me lick 
you. I want to lick you." The words came from a strained throat, a desperate 
croak that Zelda almost didn't understand and probably would not have 
understood had the girl's hand not been where it was. The time was ripe and 
Zelda used it. Her hand moved around from the girl's shoulder and slid down 
between the fabric of the girl's blouse and cupped the unbrassiered breast, 
felt the full maturity of its size and felt the passion-erect nipple burn 
into the palm. 

Zelda felt herself go liquidy as the probing young fingers curled through 
her pubic hair and spread the lips of her cunt and softly, teasingly entered 
the hot core. She held the girl's head close to her body and massaged her 
breast for a few minutes before moving away. 

"Slip out of your clothing, Ann," Zelda said quietly. "We'll have more room 
on the bed. Quickly." The girl got up from the chair and Zelda reached over 
and turned off the lantern, leaving the room pitch black for a moment before 
their eyes became used to the dark and they could see from the light of the 
moon outside. 

Zelda had wished that she could have seen the girl undress, but it was still 
too dark. She saw the dim figure however and admired the warm shadow as it 
stripped out of shorts and blouse, hips flaring suggestively and breasts 
full and high riding to the points of the erect nipples. The girl moved 
toward her and Zelda dropped her robe around her feet and then stretched out 
on the bed. 

Ann, Zelda could tell, was no stranger to loving another female. The girl's 
hands were suddenly all over the older woman's body, kneading the full 
breasts and then suddenly spreading down the smooth flesh of her torso and 
resting between her legs. Zelda opened her thighs and the girl helped, 
lowering her hands until they were underneath Zelda's buttocks. Young 
fingers pried apart the moist lips of her cunt. Zelda held her breath and 
then sighed with passion as she felt the warm mouth close over the pink 
inner labia and then the hot stab of the young, but experienced, tongue as 
it whipped frantically against her clitoris. Zelda spread her legs wide and 
brought them back to her bosom, held them in that position until Ann's mouth 
was firmly attached to her cunt and then closed her thighs softly around the 
eager girl's head. 

All the pent-up frustrations of the day seethed between her legs as Zelda 
felt the insistent tongue and lips of the fifteen-year-old working her cunt 
to peak upon peak. She clutched the cover of the bed, tried to hold her 
breath but the moans of delight and fulfillment escaped into the dark empty 
silence of the tropical night. Zelda squeezed her thighs around the girl's 
head, opened them and squeezed again as each new spasm of pleasure ripped 
through her body. Her hips strained forward, buttocks tightening and 
relaxing with each lash of the girl's tongue. She was coming and coming with 
more wild pleasure than she had felt in a long time. Not Antonio. Not 
Ronnie. Not Martin. Not Ellen had given her this much sheer joy in her cunt 
and when the final surge of emotion burst through her ravished nerves she 
almost cried with the ecstatic relief it gave her. Her legs dropped to 
either side of the girl, but the girl's mouth continued sucking at the 
screaming nerves of her crotch, licking the raw, pleasure-filled clit until 
Zelda's hands had to push the hungry face away from her cunt. 

She wanted to lie there and bathe in the afterglow of the excitement, but 
she forced herself instead to pull the girl up next to her and scoot down to 
the foot of the bed. Ann must have had some slight orgasm herself, Zelda 
thought, as she spread the youthful pubes and buried her face into the wet 
crotch. The girl leaped her hips in the air as Zelda's mouth closed over the 
clit, her tongue whipping the young cunt unmercifully, her hands holding the 
cunt lips wide. Zelda buried her tongue into the girl's tight little hole, 
sucked out the hot juice and plunged the tongue back and forth, in and out 
of the seething core. 

Zelda lost her head then, wanting to make the girl come and come, to make 
her scream with the agony of the lashing tongue. She probed deeper into the 
youthful vagina, licked her tongue up and around the sides of the girl's 
inner lips and then plunged her hot, wet tongue into the small ring of her 
anus. 

Ann cried out with the new assault, frightened and filled with more pleasure 
than she had ever experienced. She rolled her hips, trying to remove her ass 
from the wet probe that so intimately teased her, but Zelda held her in 
position, sucking and probing the tight ring until the girl's hands flew 
down and grasped her by the hair, pulling her away from the strangely 
sensitive hole. Zelda eased back slightly and then pushed her mouth back 
into Ann's cunt, licking the slippery folds of the girl's pleasure center 
until she could feel the warm thighs close about her ears, shutting off the 
stillness of the warm night. 

Zelda unwrapped herself from Ann's thighs and slid up the girl's sweaty 
body, feeling triumphant at the way Ann was breathing so heavily, so deeply 
with the exhaustion of a tongue lashing. When her head was beside the 
girl's, Zelda pulled the youthful mouth to her own and deep kissed it, 
sinking her tongue into the sweet warm of that adolescent hollow as deeply 
as she sunk her tongue into the girl's cunt. It was a very satisfying kiss. 

She closed her eyes and let herself go with the kiss, crushing her knee into 
the damp crotch of Ann's legs. It was a moment of bliss as she worked her 
mouth over the young girl's, sometimes plunging her tongue in and sometimes 
sucking out the girl's tongue to hold passionately between her teeth. She 
wanted to remain like that for the rest of the night, but she suddenly heard 
a noise. Her eyes opened in time to see the glow of the lantern at the door 
and she wasn't able to react quickly enough to prevent the door from opening 
and the light spilling into the room. 

Antonio grinned at both of them, his teeth shining devilishly in the 
reflected glow of the lantern. He stood looking at them for a minute and 
then turned to the table, picking up the brandy bottle and sipping its 
contents. 

Zelda and Ann froze on the bed, the obviousness of their condition spilling 
over into small spasms of shame. Ann hid her face behind Zelda's back while 
the older woman reached for her robe, feeling not the least bit disappointed 
that the man had arrived when he had. He could have come sooner, Zelda 
thought, but he didn't. She felt that Ellen must have given him a good time, 
otherwise he would have been there earlier. 

She knew what he was after as soon as he had surprised them. He had come for 
her, but finding Ann there must be a new thrill, and it might prove to be a 
thrill for her, too, she added. 

"You're supposed to knock," she said, slipping into the robe and still 
shielding Ann behind her back. "It's the accepted thing." 

Antonio laughed and walked over to the bed. He had nothing to say, but his 
hand was busy with his belt. As Zelda protested, he let his shorts drop to 
the floor. 

"We have another one, huh? Very nice of you, Mees Gruder," he said, smiling 
at the women and still holding the bottle of brandy. "Don't be frightened, 
little one. I'm just going to make everything between your legs feel very, 
very good." 

"Miss Gruder," Ann cried, "don't let him do anything to me. Please." 

Zelda protested mildly, getting up and leaving Ann exposed and helplessly 
curled up at the head of the bed. "There's nothing I can do," she said 
quietly. "Just take it easy with her, 'Tonio," she said turning to the first 
mate. 

"Of course, Zelda darling," he said, putting the bottle down and stepping 
closer to Ann. "Now, little one, I want you to roll over onto your stomach 
and tuck your knees up under your chest." 

Ann cringed in the corner of the bed, pulling the cover up to hide her heavy 
breasts and part of the triangle between her legs. "No. Go away. Leave me 
alone. I've never been with a man. I can't. I can't." She started to cry 
then. 

"Roll over, bitch," Antonio said as he grabbed her by the hair. "Roll over 
and shut up or I'll slit your throat." He pulled her hair tighter into his 
fist and began pushing the young girl over onto her belly when she suddenly 
whipped out a hand and scratched him across the chest. It caught him by 
surprise, but when she made another swipe at him, he backhanded across the 
face and shoved her over onto her stomach. "Don't ever do that again, little 
bitch. Now get your goddamn legs up under you and stick your ass high in the 
air." 

Antonio's voice scared her so much that she blindly obeyed, looking once at 
Zelda and crying more as she realized that the nurse was not going to help 
her. He still held her by the hair and when she was slow in pulling her legs 
up, he yanked painfully at it. 

She renewed her sobbing into the pillow as she felt the man's weight climb 
onto the bed behind her. Antonio's big hands were then over the ripe 
contours of her haunches, pulling them higher and then spreading her thighs. 
His fingers went between her legs, sought the hot, wet core of her pussy and 
pried the lips apart. Ann cried out another plea, but it was weakened by her 
knowledge of its futility and by the sudden growing excitement as she 
realized that she was about to be raped. She felt a strange blend of fear 
and thrill roll through her body and she would have peed there had her 
muscles not been so taut with panic. Antonio's fingers probed into her cunt 
expertly and then it came. 

Ann yelled loud as Antonio's huge cock rammed through the wet folds of her 
labia and plunged into her cunt with a single, painful shove. She had long 
ago lost her hymen in some sporting event, but the pain was as genuine as if 
he had burst through it. The thickness of his cock, hard and fiery, 
stretched her vaginal walls until Ann thought she was going to faint. Still 
in the agony of the first thrust, she felt his scratchy pubic hair against 
her soft, round ass. Then he withdrew and rammed himself in again. There was 
no stopping him then. He had opened up her pleasure hole and held the soft, 
plump flesh of her hips tightly in his hands, molding her haunches back to 
meet his pounding cock. 

Her cries changed slowly from the tearful pleas to deep grunts of pain and 
changed again as the initial agony of penetration passed and the thick cock 
began to give her excitements that she had never felt before. He was brutal 
after only the first thrusts and then he, too, felt that she was beginning 
to enjoy what he was doing to her. He slowed his movements to savor the 
ecstatic glow in his loins. Ann responded gradually, rolling her hips around 
to suck into her belly more and more of the massive staff of meat. 

The pain thoughts disappeared as the sensitive nerves between her legs began 
to hum with the pleasure his cock was thrusting in and out of her. She 
moaned again but with appreciation and then louder as she felt herself 
rising to the threshold of orgasm. Her eyes blurred in frenzy as she 
shuddered through her first orgasm, but Antonio continued his steady 
fucking, shoving his lengthy cock up and into her burning core, impaling her 
with more delightful sensations than she thought possible. She tried to 
break from his grip when she had come, but he held her like a fly on a pin 
and when her emotions rose again, much more quickly this time, she was glad 
to be held like a prisoner. 

Across the room, Zelda's eyes blazed with increasing desire as she watched 
the girl getting it from behind, followed Antonio's violence at first and 
then his more deliberate thrusts as he brought the girl to one orgasm after 
another. And she thought, too, that her body responded most deliciously when 
he had been brutal with the girl. When he had first penetrated her virginal 
hole, Zelda wanted to applaud. It was a reflection of some sadistic streak 
in her that overrode sexual pleasure, but when the girl had ceased crying 
and was obviously enjoying the screwing she was getting, Zelda, too, felt 
her passion grow, sear at her insides, then burst with a small crush of 
pleasure between her busy fingers. 

She watched as Antonio once more picked up the tempo, watched hungrily as 
she realized that he was reaching his own climax. He drew back and almost 
out of the girl's wet orifice and then lunged heavily against her plump 
bottom, crushing his weight down on her and grabbing her tits and kneading 
them as the spasm slowly ebbed. Zelda felt almost as much release as he 
seemed to. 

Ann milked the thick cock until it grew limp and fell out of the slippery 
wet hole. She felt a cool rush of air when it did and felt, too, that she 
had been stretched so wide that she would never be the same again. Antonio 
seemed to rest his weight on her for a long time, but she didn't care. The 
weight felt so good. Everything felt good and she was at the height of all 
the good feeling, still soaring at the end of Antonio's cock. 

"Hey, you liked that, didn't you, little one?" Antonio whispered to Ann. 
"You really like my cock buried in your cunt, huh? Well, you're going to get 
more." 

"Yes, yes," Ann whispered, not caring that Zelda was just across the room. 
"I want more. Please. Fuck me again, Antonio, please." 

He rolled off her and stood up, his cock hanging limply between her hairy 
legs. "A little later," he said, smacking her ass with his big hand. She 
moaned and then got up, too. 

"Poor Miss Gruder," Ann said, walking over to the woman. "I bet you need 
some of that, don't you?" Then she sank to her knees and opened Zelda's 
robe, spreading the woman's thighs and burying her face in her cunt. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Bob Haas was waiting for her when she returned from her late breakfast. To 
Zelda he looked like the cat who just swallowed the canary. She was 
irritated at once when she entered her hut and saw him sitting there, 
waiting and eager to tell her something. 

She had hardly gotten through the door when the boy began explaining that he 
had something to say. Gossip, very personal gossip it turned out. 

It seems that he had gone out late last night to take a dip because he 
couldn't sleep and when he arrived at the beach he saw Phillip Tyson and 
Alex Pierce on the grass nearby. Bob said that he was about to hail them 
when he noticed in the bright moon that Alex was grunting. Curious, Bob 
said, he went in and around the boys and discovered Phillip sucking Alex and 
then heard them argue. Alex refused to suck Phillip, Bob said and when he 
had finished he said, "Damn faggot. But I knew you'd want to know about it, 
Miss Gruder. I haven't forgotten yesterday." 

"Nor have I," Zelda said coolly. "But I appreciate your telling me. Don't 
worry," she said when she noticed that he seemed ready for another 
treatment, "I'll take care of you later. Run along now." 

The news was not exactly a big surprise to Zelda. She had observed the Tyson 
boy on several occasions and surmised that he was just a bit underdeveloped 
for his age, very quiet and slightly effeminate. Despite her own sexual 
predilections, she was still a little shocked by the news. Somehow her own 
sexual ventures with girls didn't seem as repulsive as it did when men did 
the same things. She could understand it to a degree, but while she smiled 
about it she also remembered that she had a duty to perform. She could not 
allow homosexuality to take her own place. Funny, she thought, I didn't mean 
to say take my place, but that's the way it came out. 

There was a way to cure it while he was still impressionable, she thought. 
She would take him through the wonderland of heterosexuality and show him, 
teach him how much more wonderful it was than the other way. She would be 
gentle and understanding, ease through the preliminaries and show the boy 
how to take the aggressive actions a woman desired. 

As she worked around the hut, picking up clothing and cups, she became more 
intrigued with the idea of making the youngster really informed about sex. 
She would be his teacher, his first woman, his motherly, passionate guide 
out of the limbo of homos. By the time she had finished working, she was 
singing in expectation of the evening. It would become one of her more 
satisfying triumphs, she thought. 

The afternoon seemed to drag and while she didn't object too much, busying 
herself with a long stroll down the beach and a swim in the fresh-water 
pool, she was impatient for the night, impatient to get her hands on the boy 
with queer tendencies. Several times that day she ran into Bob, each time 
looking more and more like he wanted to rape her on the spot. She spoke to 
him and explained that he would have to wait until tomorrow, and each time 
she told him she felt a superior thrill in being able to put him off. But 
the day dragged. 

Zelda was careful not tire herself and when she had finished supper she felt 
active for the first time in many days. Not even the warmth of the evening 
calmed her down very much. 

She found Phillip off by himself, finishing his dinner. He looked just the 
way she had always pictured him, a kind of aesthetic boy, but not really as 
effeminate as she thought earlier. He seemed surprised when she came up to 
him and told him to meet her in her hut after he had finished eating. For a 
flashing moment, Zelda saw a look of panic cross his face, but he smiled up 
at her and nodded his head. 

"So that's why you can't see me," Bob said quietly to her as she neared her 
hut. She hadn't heard him and she almost jumped in fright. "You're going to 
fuck that little faggot, aren't, you? Why? Why? You know I was waiting for 
you all day. You know how much I need it." 

Recovering her composure, Zelda turned her icy look at the big, blond boy. 
"Don't come up behind people like that. You scared me half to death." Then 
she turned and walked into her room. Bob followed. 

"But how could you, knowing what he is?" 

"That's my business," she said. "Now just run along like a good boy or you 
won't be getting anything ever." 

"No. Dammit no," he shouted. "I won't go unless I get something and right 
now." 

Zelda looked at him as he leaned against the door, the desperation written 
all over his face, but she only found contempt for him. "Get out, Bob. Get 
out now or I'll see to it that Antonio beats the hell out of you." 

He moved toward her and tried to grab her arms, but she stepped back and 
slammed her fist into his unsuspecting belly. He doubled over in pain, the 
shock of the blow taking all his passion for the moment. 

"You'll live, Bob, but get out now. I mean what I say. If you ever want sex 
from me, you'll get out now and make damned sure you don't return until I 
ask you to." 

Bob groaned and stood upright again, turning away from Zelda and leaving her 
alone in the hut. But he was seething inside, from the blow in the gut and 
from the blow to his ego, thinking that she was going to fuck that little 
queer. Well, he smiled once more as the thought worked its way into his 
mind, I'll fix that son of a bitch good. 

Zelda watched him walk off into the jungle and thought that she probably had 
made an enemy of him, but only a temporary one, she added. There were ways, 
all sexual ones, of getting him back. She sat down at the table and filled a 
glass with brandy and waited for Phil-lip. 

The boy was not long in coming. He knocked timidly at her door and came in 
quietly when she told him and sat down. She offered him a drink, but he 
refused. Then Zelda came right out with a talk about the difficulties of 
having grown up in an all-boys' school, about the troubling sexual problems 
that might lead a boy to think of sex in different ways and about the 
dangers of homosexuality in later life. 

"I've heard about you and Alex," she said, watching as the boy turned 
scarlet with shame. He started to get up, but Zelda put her hand over his 
and held him. "Don't let it bother you, Phillip. I know you know that what 
you did was wrong, but there was a reason for your actions. But it can all 
be changed, Phillip. I can help you if you'll let me." 

Her words offered little assurance to the boy. He remained scarlet with the 
shame of knowing that she knew what he had done to Alex and all he wanted to 
do was run from her, run so fast that he would die and the terrible desires 
would never haunt him again. Dead, he dreamed, he would no longer be the 
pariah to his father. He would do it swimming and in his fantasy he imagined 
that he would die in the water in the attempt at saving someone else, a 
heroic gesture that would, for the first time, make his father proud of him, 
proud of his memory. 

The blood boiled through his head and he was hardly aware of what Miss 
Gruder was saying. She was offering to help. Ridiculous. What could she do? 
She was a woman and just like his mother, weak and simpering and she was 
even drinking. What could she do? His head buzzed and he tried to look at 
the woman; his mother? He got up from the chair, but her hand was heavy on 
his and he wanted to run, but his hand anchored beneath hers, held fast to 
something that he couldn't understand. 

"I'll help you," Zelda said. 

Phillip's expression turned to panic, but he couldn't move himself from her. 
He didn't want to. And through the pounding of his heart and the lightness 
of his head, he felt the surge of hope that perhaps this woman could lift 
him from the desires he had. He relaxed for an instant and sat down, finally 
taking the small glass of brandy that Zelda offered. 

Something in her heart went out to the boy, a feeling of wanting to protect 
him from the realities and yet she still wanted to make him a man, make him 
a man in her own image. She tried to smile at his helplessness, knowing that 
he was too weak even to pursue his own homosexuality. But the feelings of 
contempt that she would have ordinarily held for his kind didn't come then. 

It was crazy, she thought, and turned her attention to the fading sunset and 
rapidly encroaching darkness of the tropical evening. A sudden cool breeze 
blew through her hut, prelude to a storm. 

Phillip's eyes were on his glass. The brandy burned its way down his throat, 
but he still couldn't feel the burst of life that it was supposed to give 
him. He had hardly ever touched strong stuff before and had never been able 
to hold it down long enough to get the giddy sensation of drunkenness that 
some of his friends had gotten before they became amiable enough to let him 
blow them. But this time, he vowed to himself, he would become drunk and 
when he had finished the brandy and shoved it across the table toward Miss 
Gruder she refilled it. He drank it quickly, gagging a few times and glad 
that the woman made no comment about it. 

Zelda filled his glass two more times before she had felt the time was right 
for her to make her move. And then it was very easy. The brandy had done its 
necessary work, making Phillip numb and dizzy enough not to resist as she 
helped him over to the bed, stripped his shorts from him and slowly 
undressed herself in the fading light of the evening. 

The wind picked up, shaking the blinds until Zelda moved from the side, of 
the bed and closed the windows and the door. This was a night that she 
didn't want to be disturbed, but she felt confident that Antonio would be 
busy with Ann or Ellen or perhaps both of them. He was that type and they 
were susceptible enough to go along with whatever he wanted to do with them. 
But then, she thought, the boys will go along with me. 

It became very still in the room when she had closed the windows, even 
though they could still hear the wind howling higher and higher outside. 
Zelda slipped down beside Phillip and took his face in her hands, holding 
his head gently and firmly and then kissed him full on the mouth, softly and 
motherly at first and as her body warmed next to his, more passionately. Her 
tongue forced his lips apart and probed into the warmth behind. He seemed to 
stiffen at her touch, but the brandy haze clouded whatever resistance he 
would have made sober. He felt the stirrings of an erection as her hand 
glided down his body and cradled, his genitals warmly. The touch was 
different, but not so much different than a certain boy he had known in 
school. Only Miss Gruder's hands seemed more knowledgeable, softer. Or was 
it the boy? He closed his eyes and opened his mouth wider to accept the 
tongue and let his gonads run wild with the touch. 

Zelda felt his stirring manhood and quickly began to stroke it. His eyes 
were closed and he might have been thinking of other things, but she knew 
that she would make him a man. He had a fair-sized cock and when it reached 
the peak of hardness it had proven enough to make Zelda feel the moisture 
form between her legs. She wanted to move from his mouth then and take his 
hard cock between her lips, but she realized that she had to continue to 
kiss him and keep him hard until she could roll over on top of him and give 
him the woman-fuck that he had never had. 

Slowly she moved her thigh over his legs, inching herself closer and closer 
to his crotch. All the time, she kept her hand busy massaging his penis, 
squeezing it first firmly and then loosely, titillating it enough to keep it 
hard and anxious. Her mouth crushed down harder on his as she wondered what 
he expected, but then she didn't want to think about it. She wanted to crawl 
up on top of the boy and impale herself on his rigid boy-man cock, faggot 
penis that she would change. 

Phillip had no hair on his youthful chest and when Zelda finally broke away 
from his mouth, leaving him panting and moaning with the pleasure of her 
stroking hand, she felt like she was kissing the warm flesh of a very young 
girl. It was not an unsatisfactory sensation as she tongued the little 
nipples on his chest. His cries of sexual delight filled her ears over the 
moaning of the wind as the storm outside began to keep the pace with the 
storm on the bed. The time was there and she rolled her hips over his and 
settled down over his cock, grinding her pillowy rump over his crotch until 
she was certain that the full length of the boy's cock was buried in her wet 
love purse. 

The shock of her hot cleft seared through Phillip's body. He thrust his hips 
upward to meet her rolling ass and while he held his eyes closed he imagined 
the times that he had sucked that cock into the tight, hot hole of his boy- 
-friend's ass. But this was different. So different, and so much alive that 
he felt the surge of his orgasm rise from his groin and rip through his body 
and then spurt lovingly and dizzyingly into the hot crevice of Miss Gruder's 
cunt. 

Zelda felt his stream of love slam into her and crushed herself down on him. 
Her lips covered his moaning mouth and while she didn't feel much of an 
orgasm herself, she was triumphant at having given the boy one, given him 
his first woman-fuck orgasm. She pressed her sensuous body down on his, 
holding him and holding his cock between her legs. She felt his body tense 
and respond with the final spasms of his orgasm, but she continued to tense 
her vaginal muscles, milking the last drop from the boy's cock, making him 
feel the potency of her love-making. 

Despite her efforts and regardless of the sexual tactics that she employed 
on him, Phillip gradually resisted her, found that the brandy haze worn thin 
soon and the chilling reality of what he was doing was upon him. Zelda was a 
woman, his mother-figure, lover, disgusting drunk and whore. As he struggled 
beneath her sensuous weight, he could hear his father shout at the object of 
some early affection, the stabbing screams of bitterness and hate and they 
were all directed at that woman, all women, even at Miss Gruder who had 
tried so hard. But the shouts wouldn't stop in his mind, even when he told 
himself as calmly as he knew how that this was a different woman another 
time and place, but his nerves ripped his soul and told him his thoughts 
were false, his mother was there on top of him, her juicy cunt splayed for 
the disgusting hard thing between his legs and all the while his father 
shouted and laughed over the both of them. 

It had never really happened to Phillip, but, at that moment in time, he 
relived a fantasy and when he could find the strength, he shoved Zelda from 
his body and ran, grabbing his shorts on the way out. 

He ran naked to the beach, falling facedown in the soft and still warm sand 
near the lapping surf. Strange, he thought, how calm the surf was when the 
wind and the rain were making such fuss. And how warm, too, despite the cool 
drops that splashed over his fevered body. He knew that he could never go 
back. He could never face her again, and he could never look at anyone ever. 
But the rain drops were cooler than the sand or the lapping surf and he felt 
reawakened, reborn because he knew that this was the last night he would 
live. Death seemed to be reaching out for him and as he accepted the idea he 
knew that he would meet that specter with dignity. He put on his wet shorts, 
ignoring the grating effect of the sand against his smooth-fleshed body. 

Phillip turned his face directly into the lashing rain and wind, no longer 
caring that he was being hurt or that there was danger that he would catch a 
chill. Those were things that no longer mattered. He walked with a new 
resolution through the storm and back into the jungle for no other reason 
than to taste the pregnant smell of its overripe living. He filled his lungs 
with the damp earthy odors and nearly felt faint from the ecstasy of it, the 
living and dying of it. 

He was still huddled under a tree after the storm had passed. Antonio and 
Bob found him. But then they had been looking for him. Antonio had been told 
the story of Phillip's blowjob on Alex and about Zelda. Bob told it all to 
the burly sailor. He told more, too, told the first mate that when they were 
rescued, he, Bob, would be able to make the sailor a captain. Bob knew his 
father and he knew his own control over the old man. It was an easy thing to 
promise. Money, of course, had considerably more appeal to Antonio than 
anything else, even the soft young cunts of virgins. 

Antonio had listened to Bob for a long time, at first putting the kid down, 
then laughing about the way Zelda had put him off, but eventually growing 
more interested as Bob Haas explained how he wanted to get even with the 
little faggot. And the money. Antonio could not quite get the idea of the 
money out of his mind. And when it came to doing some pleasurable harm to 
Phillip, Antonio knew just how to do it. 

They had watched the hut for a long time, but when the lantern had come on 
some hours after the storm had arrived, they realized that Phillip had left. 

Phillip looked up, startled but not frightened, when the two arrived. He was 
about to say something when Bob shushed him and then told him to come along. 
Antonio stood aside and nodded to the young boy. Phillip got up and followed 
the two through the jungle to Antonio's hut. No one said anything as they 
came close to it, but Phillip felt a sudden stab of fear. 

"Where are you taking me?" But he was shoved into the hut by Bob after the 
first mate had opened the door. 

Antonio had lit the lantern and when Bob closed the door and locked it, 
Phillip ran back and tried to leave. He was shoved toward the bed with a 
rough laugh by both the big boy and the first mate. Phillip turned from one 
to the other, saw that they had both been drinking and became genuinely 
frightened. 

"We're just going to have ourselves a little fun," Antonio said, opening the 
bottle and drinking directly. He passed it over to Bob and then said, "Get 
your shorts off, kid. We're going to have some queer fun." 

"No," Phillip cried out, but Bob was suddenly next to him, his fist jabbing 
painfully into Phillip's belly. 

"Oh, yes, you little faggot. Now get out of those shorts or I'll tear you 
out of them." Antonio and Bob watched with sadistic pleasure as the kid 
slowly unhitched his shorts and let them fall. The first mate laughed and 
made a raunchy comment about the size of Phillip's cock. Then he dropped his 
own shorts and walked over to the boy. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his 
lap seemed to Phillip to be filled with enormous cock and balls. The boy was 
almost hypnotized by the sight when Antonio's arm shot out and pulled him 
close. "Now get down, you cocksucking little bastard. And you better make it 
good." 

Phillip turned pale and began to shake. He was too scared to cry out again, 
but he resisted going down on the first mate as long as he could. But 
Antonio's grip tightened on his arm and he felt powerless as he was pulled 
down, down to the lap full of genitals. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but 
they were ignored by the big man who put his other hand on the boy's head 
and pulled him closer to the long, thick cock, swollen with need. "Suck it, 
goddamn you, or I'll make you wish you had." 

It was so big Phillip thought that he would never be able to take it in his 
mouth, but he obediently opened his jaws and let his mouth be pushed down by 
the first mate until the thick head of the cock passed his lips and pressed 
against his tongue. He fought then, but the man was too strong. A sudden 
sharp pain in his neck made him realize that he was helpless. He rolled his 
tongue over the thick knob of Antonio's cock, sucked hard at the hot bulge 
in his mouth and began to bob his head up and down. The pressure on his neck 
was relaxed and Phillip fell into the steady rhythm, no longer caring that 
what he was doing was something that he had tried to fight away. This was 
rape, he thought, and there was a panicky thrill that shot through his loins 
as he found that he enjoyed the idea of being forced to do what he had done 
so often voluntarily. He sucked the big penis faster, suddenly finding space 
for the enlarged organ farther and farther down his throat. He forced his 
head downward until the great knob of Antonio's hard-on banged against his 
tonsils and still Phillip thought with wonderment that he had not even taken 
half of the cock. He felt himself caught up in the dizzying excitement of 
blowing the big man, his head rang with the blood racing through his body, 
and he felt his own cock painfully hard. 

Without thinking, he reached down and started to play with himself, but 
Antonio's hand swept the boy's arm away. Over the hammering in his head, he 
heard the big man say that he couldn't do that. It was painful and he wanted 
to beat his meat so badly that he almost cried, but then he felt still more 
excitement by being forced from even the small pleasure of masturbation. He 
renewed with greater frenzy his blowing task. His tongue lashed around the 
head of Antonio's cock and his lips slurped over it on the upstroke. Phillip 
wanted to go down more, take the fat bag of balls into his mouth, but he 
didn't dare remove the throbbing penis. 

His tongue turned became a trip hammer as it lashed rapidly over Antonio's 
glans, and the quick erotic treatment brought the first mate up to his peak 
and then brought out a thick stream of come that shot into the back of the 
boy's throat. Antonio was very pleased, but he held the boy's head until the 
last drop of semen had been sucked from his cock. 

All the time Bob had been watching with fascination as the boy sucked off 
Antonio. He remembered the delicious thrill of Zelda's mouth and wondered 
whether Phillip was as good as she. He waited impatiently for Antonio to 
come and when the first mate finally stood up and walked back to the table, 
Bob was out of his shorts and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Phillip was fatigued but he didn't resist when he found himself faced with 
Bob's cock. It, too, was very large, not as big as Antonio's, but big 
enough. He took the hard shaft into his mouth and worked it quickly, his 
head and tongue and lips moving slickly over the hot cock, up and down, up 
and down until Phillip thought that his neck would break. 

Antonio felt some surprise that he would become aroused so quickly after 
having a blowjob, but as he watched the boy suck Bob he felt a new stirring 
in his loins. He took another swallow of brandy, got up from the table and 
went to the cupboard where he took down a container of coconut oil. It would 
do very nicely, he thought. 

The pain in Phillip's neck shot down through his shoulder muscles, but he 
kept sucking Bob's cock, enjoying the pain as much as he had enjoyed the 
thought of being forced into what he was doing. But he was relieved when Bob 
came at last and he fell across the bed, still kneeling but not 
uncomfortable. The muscles relaxed and the pain began to subside. 

"He sucked like a woman," Antonio said laughingly. "Now let's see if he can 
fuck like a woman." 

Phillip turned and looked at the first mate with new pain in his eyes. He 
knew what the man was saying and when the first mate came over to him with 
the container of oil, he turned away and started pleading. "I can't do that, 
Antonio. I'm too small. Please, for God's sake don't. I couldn't take you. 
You're too big," He fell over to the man's legs, his hand grabbing the thick 
stem of manhood. He opened his mouth and took the familiar fat penis in, 
warmed it, sucked it, but Antonio pushed him away. 

"Get on the bed and spread your cheeks, little one. I'll know you're going 
to enjoy this." 

"Please. Please don't." But even as he was crying and begging, Antonio was 
forcing his legs onto the bed, pressing down on the boy's neck and forcing 
his ass high in the air. Phillip cried out again, but a sudden pressure on 
his neck made him gag off the sound in the fabric of the bedclothes. Antonio 
stood aside for a moment and then dipped his hand into the oil. Phillip felt 
only the light touch of the first mate's fingers as they smoothed the oil 
over his anus and then the added weight as the man climbed onto the bed 
behind him. Antonio's finger probed lightly into the boy's rectum and 
Phillip almost felt a sensation of pleasure. But it was quickly replaced by 
the massive knob of Antonio's cock, hard and hot at the small sphincter and 
then the sudden shock of pain as Antonio's cock, well lubricated by the oil, 
slid inside. 

Phillip felt totally debased, but he couldn't move. Antonio's hand was again 
pressing down on the back of his neck. But his ass felt like it was on fire, 
stretched to the rending point and only the thick knob of Antonio's cock had 
entered. The rest of Antonio's cock sent a new, screaming spasm of pain 
through his rectum as the first mate gave a heavy lunge and sunk himself 
right up to the hilt in the boy's ass. Phillip cried out in pain and 
screamed aloud only to be forced face down onto the cover of the bed. 

The big cock slipped back and lunged forward. The second time the cock 
buried itself up his ass, Phillip felt little pain, only the growing 
awareness of the thickness where no thickness ought to be. Gradually, he 
began to feel some pleasure as the heavy cock rammed back and forth into his 
body and this time there was no denying the painful erection. Phillip's hand 
slipped down between his legs, grabbed his small cock and beat it in tune 
with the first mate's strokes. Phillip's orgasm was more powerful than he 
had ever experienced, coming just as Antonio's cock ground mercilessly 
against the boy's prostate gland. A few minutes later and Antonio shot his 
load hotly into the boy's rectum and pulled himself out with a satisfying 
pop. 

Bob had become re-aroused by the sight of Antonio buggering Phillip and when 
the first mate rose from the bed, Bob went over and forced his cock into the 
boy's mouth another time. And then it was Antonio's turn to get hard again. 
He found the second entry into Phillip's ass much easier than the first. 

Phillip's mind went blank that night. He vaguely remembered being used over 
and over again. His ass felt like there was a gaping hole in it. His mouth 
was dry, sour tasting, sour from Bob and Antonio and sour from the way he 
had finally thrown up after the two had tossed him out. He had fallen 
several times in the sand on his way down to the beach. He tried to run, but 
his legs only mushed through the soft sand and there was considerable pain 
in his ass when he tried too hard. 

The surf was light at that hour of the morning, not yet daylight, but 
Phillip could see the coming brightness on the horizon. He stepped into the 
water, walked a few steps then swam as the water was suddenly over his head. 
He swam straight out, swimming slowly and taking each stroke as though he 
had been practicing from a text. The fluid over his body eased some of the 
pain and gradually his mind became clear. The water, he thought. The water 
was so protective, so loving. He found that he was falling in love with the 
water as it soothed him. 

It was so different from the harsh reality of Bob and Antonio, so comforting 
after the shame of his rape and the deeper shame he felt for having enjoyed 
what he had been forced to do. Yes, he told himself, even enjoying Antonio's 
huge cock imbedded up his ass. He wanted to return and have them start all 
over, but he knew he couldn't face them, knew that he would never get from 
them the tenderness of the warm tropical lagoon. 

Phillip swam straight in the warm dark water until his arms were numb with 
fatigue and his legs felt like lead. Then he stopped swimming and let 
himself be taken by the water, down, down and he never made a struggle. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

It was more than a week after they had buried Phillip that Zelda began to 
feel halfway normal. After the discovery of his body in the surf the 
following morning, she felt that she had been the blame for his suicide, for 
it must have been suicide. There could be no other explanation for his 
drowning. For the first several days she cursed herself for having come on 
so strong with the boy, for having literally forced him into becoming 
involved with her. She said that it was rape, but she said it only to 
herself. 

All the others thought that it was an accident and while they moped around 
for a couple of days, the reality of death in their midst faded like the 
pictures drawn in the sand, swept away in the wind and surf, half remembered 
and almost happily forgotten. Phillip had never been one of the more 
memorable members at best and the group grew closer together after his 
burial. But Zelda brooded on her part in his death for a few more days than 
that, and somehow she felt that she would never be able to forget the events 
of the night before, those events of which she had been part of. Forget she 
must, she told herself, and by the end of a week she had put the kid's death 
into more proper perspective, an accident, deliberate on his part and only a 
partial blame for herself. That was where it should stay, but the memory of 
the boy came back to haunt her at night, in nightmares of what she knew she 
was becoming. 

She found some solace in keeping to herself during the day, playing the role 
of severe mother-image and taking Ann or Ellen or Ronnie to bed with her at 
night. It was different suddenly with all of them. She no longer played the 
role of seducer but made demands on them, not the least subtly hidden by 
threats. When she had tired of one of the kids, she had Antonio who 
satisfied her as a woman, dominated her, could have controlled her had she 
allowed it, but she refused that pleasure to herself. 

There was a tension around the island that she could not put her finger on. 
It started when she noticed that Martin Kelly avoided her deliberately. She 
wasn't sure at first, but when she tried to walk directly toward him he 
always seemed to not hear her call and was suddenly running toward the surf 
or off into the jungle. Bob, too, she noticed, avoided her, but not quite so 
intentionally. The big, dumb blond boy just seemed to want to stay away from 
her and, when she came upon him on the beach or in the meal line, he hardly 
said more than a few words to her. There was no more mention of his wanting 
to come to her hut and do the thing they had done once. 

Zelda began to feel that she was losing control over the whole camp. The 
feeling didn't come to her all at once, but crept up and wound itself into 
her being. She hardly noticed it during the time she was mourning the death 
of Phillip, but she became aware of it as she came out of the lassitude that 
followed the tragedy. She simply awoke one morning and realized that life 
was going on around her and it was doing very well without her. 

On the several occasions that she had tried to talk to Martin and failed, 
she had shrugged her shoulders and felt that further effort was not worth 
the trouble, but when she finally realized that she might be losing control, 
she told herself that she would force the boy into communication with her. 

Steeling herself against a possible rebuff, Zelda collared Martin after 
lunch. He had been late and when he walked over to sit beneath a tree to eat 
she had followed him and sat beside him. He nodded a greeting, but he said 
nothing to really acknowledge that she was there. His behavior made Zelda 
want to laugh, but she treated it as a serious thing. She knew that she 
needed him. 

There was hardly any conversation and when the boy was pressed for details 
about his avoidance of her, she was told that he felt that what he had done 
with her was wrong and he didn't want to continue. But Zelda insisted and 
when he had finished his meal, she exacted a promise that he would come to 
her hut. 

Even as she walked back to her place, Zelda felt that the boy was reluctant 
to come, but she suddenly felt strong enough and reassured herself that he 
would come. And when he did come, she would make his visit most memorable. 

It was true that he didn't want to go to Miss Gruder. He had heard Bob talk 
about how she had sucked him off and about how she had been with Phillip the 
night before he drowned. There might not have been any connection, he felt, 
but he couldn't deny that the kid was kind of queer and it was possible that 
Zelda had pushed him too far. Still, he felt that he had to go. In some 
strange way Zelda Gruder represented all that was authority and stability on 
the island, the only real hope that they had for being rescued and staying 
alive before they were rescued. 

Martin knew that she wanted to fuck him even before he went into her hut. He 
knew it even as she had been talking to him at lunch. He knew that her 
serious-severe words were just covers for her real meaning. It was not that 
he didn't want to fuck her. His blood pounded as virilely as anyone else's, 
but he knew that when he had been with Miss Gruder before there was 
something evil about doing it with her. Still he went to her hut and he went 
with a sense of anticipation of what she was going to do. He had no doubt 
that she was going to seduce him. 

Zelda had slipped into her thin robe as soon as she had returned to her hut. 
It wouldn't be a long wait, she told herself. The boy was curious and 
probably just a bit horny, too. She knew that he was afraid of her in some 
strange way, afraid because he knew what she was doing to him and to the 
rest. But she knew that she had the power of sex over him and with that 
control she could control him and the others. 

She felt a smugness when she heard his knock, felt the reassurance of her 
power at the willfulness of her actions. Without pretense or shame. That was 
the way it would be. Quickly she went to the bed and sat on the edge before 
telling the caller to enter. 

"Close the door, Martin," she said. "You know why I wanted you to come. I'm 
glad you came. Come here and sit beside me." 

It seemed to be happening in a dream for Martin. He wanted to run away from 
her, but his eyes sent the message of her lush body down to his genitals and 
the arousal that he didn't want to happen happened. He was the sleepwalker 
closing the door and the dreamer as he walked over to the bed and sat beside 
her. His arms seemed to belong to someone else as they encircled her and his 
lips were other lips as they touched lightly against hers and then fiercely 
as the well of his passion erupted. He slipped down to his knees and opened 
her robe, spread her legs wide and then buried his face in the tart sweet 
purse of her cunt. 

Zelda smiled and raised her feet up to the edge of the bed, exposing her 
cunt wide and open and making it the delicious target of the boy's tongue 
and lips. It was an awkward position, but it was more than repaid as his 
mouth discovered all the secret points of pleasure, as he licked the hot 
juice from her passion-swollen pubes and fastened his mouth over her 
clitoris, sucking the nipple of fire into his feverish orifice. Somehow, she 
managed to drop the sleeves of her robe and let her bare body, lush breasts 
upraised in delirious thrill, catch the almost imperceptible movements of 
the tropical air. She spread her legs wide with her feet on the bed, but 
Martin's hands opened her wider yet to allow himself to feast at her furnace 
of love. 

When she could stand the punishing tongue no longer, she clamped her thighs 
about the boy's head, held him for the eternity of her orgasm and then 
helped him swing his body over hers and onto the bed. He still had his 
shorts on, but Zelda quickly slipped them down his hard-muscled torso and 
legs. She wanted to sink her face down to his swollen cock, take it sweetly 
and lovingly into her mouth and suck him dry, but she still felt the need 
for that stem of flesh to be buried in her cunt. She rolled over onto her 
back and opened her pillars wide. He needed no further encouragement, but he 
hesitated for a moment, feeling just the slightest sense of remorse over 
what he was doing. But he moved between her legs, spread them wider than she 
had, and plunged his hot cock into the wet folds of her body, her temple of 
love and the sheath of comfort for his sword of passion. 

Zelda was not content to be merely fucked by the boy. She arched her hips up 
and wrapped her legs over the boy's shoulders and ground her pelvis against 
him. Her hands clasped his buttocks, fingers working nervously toward his 
anus and then opening the tight ring. She inserted a finger in his ass up to 
the first joint and all the while the other fingers played a tune around the 
sensitive rim. 

Gradually, he worked her legs downward so that her plump warm thighs held 
his waist and the calves of her legs beat a tattoo against his ass. His 
mouth covered hers for a long time and then sucked up the dew of 
perspiration at her neck and traced a path of fire down her chest. He sucked 
a firm nipple of her big tits into his mouth, teeth grazing across it 
sharply. 

She slammed her body against his, felt her passion soar up to the heights 
and come screaming down in liquidy howls as the orgasm throbbed through her 
vibrating cunt. She sunk her teeth into his shoulder and tossed her ass 
madly up and down, crushing him, squeezing him, holding his cock deep in the 
inferno of her greasy lower lips. Just as she thought that she could take no 
more, Martin gave a violent thrust and collapsed on top of her, spurting his 
hot juice into the palpitating rose of her body. 

They lay side by side for a long time, listening to the silence of the hot 
afternoon and not caring that the sun blazed fiercely outside. The hut was 
hot. Their bodies were soaked with love's effort, but Zelda didn't care. 
While the warm air shifted gently about the room, she knew that they would 
cool off for a bit and she knew that he would be ready soon. She would see 
to that. 

Her hand stole down between his legs and cradled the limp tool of his 
boy-manhood, large even in its flaccid condition. She ran her finger under 
his scrotum, scratching the skin with her nail and trying to induce some 
further passion into his cock. He moaned and tried half-heartedly to push 
her hand away, but she only moved it a few inches, back up to the base of 
his stem, other fingers circling the bag of balls. It remained limp, 
worthless to her, and her manipulations didn't seem to be getting the 
reaction that she desired. 

She scooted down the length of his body, laying a trail of dampness over his 
already damp flesh with her mouth. She scraped her teeth over his nipples 
and licked the salty pool of wetness from his navel. She moved farther down 
the bed and took his limp cock into her mouth, swallowing hard at first and 
then closing her lips around the soft flesh. Her tongue danced over the head 
of his penis and she tasted her own juices on his cock and loved the flavor 
sensation and felt the warm desire flow back between her legs. The taste was 
depraved and she loved it and loved herself for doing it. And all the while 
her mouth whistled his skin flute, her tongue tripping wantonly over the 
screaming nerve endings in his glans until the limp noodle was flushed with 
new tides of heat and the swelling member filled her mouth. She sucked it 
furiously, her face collapsing with the suction. 

Martin groaned his pleasure at her work, found some flashes of regret over 
what he was doing, but sent them hurriedly away as her mouth fucked him. He 
was hard and there was such a sweet painful bliss in his crotch as she 
sucked him that he thought that he was going to come at any moment, but the 
orgasm eluded him, kept off like a shadow of some strange dream. But his 
cock remained hard and burning with the desire. It burned white hot and then 
whiter hot as her teeth slashed over the purple knob of pleasure, softer 
white hot when her head rose all the way up and just her lips sucked the 
tiny slit at its top. 

Zelda wanted to finish him in her mouth, but there was the fire in her 
crotch and she knew that she had to fuck him again. His body glistened with 
sweat as she slid her big tits over and up his body, spreading her plump 
thighs wide to capture his throbbing cock in her wet love trap. She impaled 
herself on him, slowly grinding herself down until there was no more of him 
left to take, but it was enough to bring her off several times before the 
boy unloaded his sperm deep into her cunt. 

When it was through, and Zelda knew that it was all over because she didn't 
feel like it anymore, she told him to leave. He was surprised by her tone of 
voice, from the passionate woman that had fucked and sucked him back to the 
stern Miss Gruder. It seemed incongruous to him as she spoke coolly while 
laying on her back naked, her legs love wet and spread wide. But he was 
tired, too, and wanted to swim or loaf in the cooler environment of the 
water. He closed the door behind him and never bothered to say good-bye to 
Miss Gruder. He very much preferred Zelda to Miss Gruder. 

Zelda would lay there on the bed for a long time after supper while Martin 
went swimming and she would never know that she had won a friend. Martin's 
attitude changed subtly after he had his session with the woman, but the 
fears that he had experienced before were still there. It was simply that he 
wondered whether what Zelda had done was really so bad. Thinking of her 
passion he was unable to condemn her for he would have had to condemn 
himself for he had been just as much a party to the affair as she had been 
instigator. Yet hadn't he always harbored the idea of fucking her? He 
couldn't deny it. 

Martin justified himself for fucking Zelda. She was old enough to know 
better and he was old enough to want to have a woman. Their bodies made 
argument pointless. It had been done. It had been done twice. He was still a 
bit confused about his role, feeling some guilt and knowing his own 
participation at the same time. 

Martin swam out from the surf only a few yards before rolling over onto his 
back and floating. The water refreshed him, but he was still too fatigued to 
really make his promised effort to swim all the way to the reef. There was 
no doubt that he could make it. He had gone farther than that many times, 
but there was no need to prove anything then. 

He had rolled over and dove under the water before coming out of the lagoon. 
His eyes were still salt-misty and burned pleasantly as he blinked himself 
back into focus. He was already up onto the sand when he first noticed that 
Mary was standing close. Martin plopped down on the sand and looked up at 
her. She smiled and came to him. 

"Hi. What's happening?" It was inane and Martin knew it as soon as he had 
said it, but she was kind and didn't give him a smart-aleck remark. She sat 
down on the hot sand next to him. 

"Hi." 

"What's the matter? See a ghost?" 

"No." She sat with her knees tucked up almost to her chin. Her face was 
turned toward the water, a profile for Martin to admire and he admired it. 
She had a firm jaw line, nice forehead and below her neck he was very 
pleased to see the full rise of her breasts as they stood out, straining 
almost, against the thin fabric of her blouse. She was a woman, too, he told 
himself, just younger, but the same as Zelda. But she was still a kid, just 
as he was still a kid. He wanted to touch her, but he knew that he shouldn't 
or couldn't. Was there some stigma on him after coming from Zelda? 

"I don't think we're ever going to be rescued," she said finally, sifting 
the sand between her fingers. "I really don't think we will be. Do you?" 

"Sure. I know that my old man'll be raising heaven and hell to find out 
where we are. There's probably a search party out right now, covering all 
the routes we were supposed to take. They'll find us. It's just a matter of 
time. Don't worry about it." He said the words, but he wasn't too certain 
himself whether he meant it, but the sound of his own voice telling it was 
all right seemed to make him believe it, too. 

Mary looked down at him, her hair haloed brightly against the sun. "I don't 
think we will be rescued, but I don't really worry about that so much as I 
worry about what's happening to us. I mean Phillip's death. Did he kill 
himself? I keep wondering about it because when we used to talk together he 
often mentioned that he would like to die. He was like that, you know. I 
don't think it was an accident. Something drove him to it." 

Martin looked up at her, shielded his eyes from the glare and shrugged. "It 
was an accident. Hell, everyone was warned about swimming alone. We don't 
know what kind of current this lagoon has. It was an accident." 

"You don't believe that," Mary said. "I can tell that you don't believe it." 

Martin turned away from her. He thought about what she had said and he knew 
that he had been kidding himself. The kid had killed himself. He wondered 
then if Mary knew about Phillip, knew that he was queer, that he had 
actually been caught at it. But it didn't matter. The kid was dead and there 
was nothing or anyone to blame. It was just done, ended. He was almost ready 
to get angry with her but he knew that would be pointless. If she knew then 
she knew he had killed himself and if she didn't know all about him then he 
was not going to tell her. 

He didn't want to think about it and he didn't want her thinking about it. 
Slowly Martin rolled over onto his belly and without looking up tried to 
explain that he didn't care anymore. He told her that there was only one 
obligation on everyone's part and that was to keep alive. And to have fun if 
they could. 

Later on they went to the dinner meal together and Martin found that it was 
easy to talk to Mary. She listened and that was something that he found very 
much in her favor. Being shy, he had always forced himself to speak in front 
of others, but he never liked it, until now. He suddenly found himself 
talking more than he had ever done before and talking on and on while the 
girl listened. 

When they had finished eating, he was still talking, telling her all the 
funny things that had happened to him in school, while playing football, 
swimming or running on the track team. It was self-depreciating 
conversation, but he knew that she knew he was gently putting himself down 
to show himself at best advantage. 

They went swimming together and stayed on the beach until the sun went down 
and suddenly they knew that they were the only ones on the island. No one 
else was around them and for the remaining hours they felt themselves the 
only survivors of the shipwreck. 

Mary listened well to the boy, feeling for him as she had once felt for a 
swim coach a year ago, the first man who ever got into her panties. Mary 
knew that she was different from some of the other girls. She knew that they 
thought of her as the virgin, but she knew differently and she wouldn't have 
told any of them if her life had depended upon it. There are no 
seventeen-year-old virgins, the coach had told her and he proved it to Mary. 
She had been fucked the day before her seventeenth birthday. It had been the 
first and only time and she had enjoyed it but she never missed it when she 
knew that she would not get it from the coach again. But there on the beach 
in the stillness of the tropical night, she knew that this was a boy who 
would do it to her and she wanted him to do it to her. So she listened to 
his stories, laughed and smiled and oohed and ahhed at the right places and 
made him feel more manly than she knew he was. 

It was only natural to lay closer to him on the sand and watch the 
brilliance of the constellations overhead and listen to the soft, 
hypnotizing music of the surf. It was just as natural to turn to him as he 
turned to her and natural, too, for their lips to meet in a gently discreet 
kiss that quickly turned to burning passion. 

It wasn't the fear of his kiss that made her get up suddenly and run into 
the water. She was ready for Martin's body to join hers, but she didn't want 
to do it on the sand. She wondered if it was possible to do it in the water 
and knew that she was ready. Her feet were just able to touch to the bottom 
of the lagoon when Martin dove into the water beside her, churning up a big 
splash as he knifed several yards beyond her. She moved closer to the shore 
and when he turned she went back up on the beach and ran for the jungle, for 
the soft grass that edged the beach and that's where she stopped and pulled 
her wet blouse and shorts off. She wanted to be naked for him. 

Mary remained very still, hidden in the shadow of the moon as she watched 
Martin climb onto the beach and come running for her. She stood quietly and 
waited until he was upon her and saw her nakedness. There was no need for 
words, only the need for each other. He shed his shorts and stood before her 
as naked as she and with his boy-manhood rising in front of him. Mary 
resisted the temptation to touch it, but felt it stab into her belly when he 
closed his arms around her. 

They sank down onto the soft grass together and joined themselves. There 
seemed no need to hurry and Martin let his cock simply enter, hardly moving 
himself but simply allowing Mary's fevered body to come to him, to impale 
herself on his penis. Only when she had taken all of his cock in the tight 
young sheath of her cunt did Martin roll her onto her back and help spread 
her legs wide. Then he carefully moved his hips back and forth his cock 
sinking deep and withdrawing slowly as Mary took his rhythm for her own and 
wrapped her legs around him. 

As Martin sunk his cock into Mary, he thought briefly of his afternoon with 
Zelda and the comparison was bad for Zelda. This beautiful young girl 
beneath his humping torso was everything that the older woman was not, all 
pure of thought and wondrously innocent and passionate at the same time 
while Zelda, to Martin's mind, represented some of the older people, 
degenerate, sick, evil. But as his body soared up on the wings of passion, 
he gave the older woman a passing tribute. He knew in a flash of remembrance 
that he would not have been able to do this as gently as he was if it had 
not been for her ministrations earlier in the day. But then she was 
forgotten as he lunged into the slick, tight love hole of the girl he had 
always thought to be a virgin. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Zelda woke early the next morning, finding herself comfortably with a new 
feeling of confidence. Her second conquest of Martin had much to do with it. 
While he had been reluctant to come to her, he had come nevertheless and by 
doing so Zelda knew that she had him back in control. The rest would be 
easy. 

Relaxed after a leisurely swim in the freshwater pool, she strolled around 
the camp and the beach, talking to all the kids, in groups or individually, 
reassuring them that everything would be all right. She was her old strict 
self, assured, authoritarian but just. Her tour around the camp served two 
purposes. The kids needed her image of stability and maturity and Zelda 
wanted to talk to Bob, knowing that he had to be next for a special 
treatment. 

She didn't find him with the others, but during her period of indifference 
following the tragedy she had not been unaware of the boy's closeness to 
Antonio. On a couple of occasions she began to suspect that there was 
something queer going on, but she dismissed it. 

As she thought, Bob was with Antonio, just coming out of the first mate's 
hut in fact as she walked up. He looked at her and seemed about ready to 
take off in another direction, but Zelda hailed him and he couldn't run. He 
waited for her to approach, digging his bare foot in the soft sand and 
looking at the patterns it made. 

"I want to see you in my quarters, Bob," she said quietly. Her voice, 
however, had the edge of sharpness to it that intimidated the boy. Without 
looking up at her he nodded. 

"When?" 

"Come along now, if you like," she said and turned away from him. She felt a 
new sensation of power as she walked to her hut, hearing softly his 
footfalls behind her. If she had turned around, she knew that she would see 
him walking a few yards behind her, his head, no doubt, hanging and his 
hands stuffed in his pockets. But she didn't turn around. It didn't seem 
necessary. 

Zelda felt that there was much that Bob could tell her about Phillip's 
suicide, but she didn't press him for details when she noticed his panicky 
look at the mention of the dead boy's name. Instead, she switched to other 
topics, loosening her blouse carelessly and seemingly unconsciously. It was 
a very deliberate gesture, however, and Zelda had planned it while she was 
walking up to the hut. Bob, she felt, would be much easier to win over than 
Martin had been, and Martin had been far easier than she had imagined him to 
be. She still had the power. 

Bob responded eagerly when Zelda turned to him and asked him how everything 
was going. He fixed his eyes hungrily on the deep cleavage of her breasts 
and answered her questions without thinking. Yes, he told her, he knew that 
Ellen and Joan were playing with each other. And Ellen and the kid named 
John were actually fucking when Bob had discovered them. 

Zelda was impressed only with the new name. She knew him, of course, but he 
had always seemed to be one of the background people, never very vocal and 
never in any kind of trouble. She dismissed him. 

Zelda unbuttoned her blouse another button and felt a surge of pleasure as 
Bob's eyes almost seemed to bug out of his head. The perspiration on the 
boy's forehead was not all caused by the heat of the day. She wondered then 
if was worthwhile teasing him further. He had been very cooperative in 
answering her questions save her mention of Phillip. 

"Would you like to fuck me, Bob?" 

The boy was startled by the bluntness of her question and blushed furiously, 
nodding his head. 

"Then get undressed," she said, slipping out of her blouse and shorts as she 
watched him get up slowly from the chair. 

Zelda walked behind him and locked the door. She didn't want to be disturbed 
for a while. When she returned to the side of the bed where she had been 
standing Bob had already dropped his shorts. His cock stood proudly erect 
and waiting for her. She knew what he wanted, but there was something that 
he would have to do first. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed as she had done the previous afternoon with 
Martin, she called Bob to her and told him that he would have to make love 
like a man, make her want him, she had said. She held his cock in one hand 
without moving and cradled his testicles with her other hand, weighing the 
heaviness and letting herself get more than a little aroused. 

"Kneel down, Bob, and eat my cunt," she whispered, pulling the boy closer 
and downward. 

He was disappointed at first that Zelda had not tried to give him a blowjob 
as she had done before, but his cock ached with the idea of ramming it into 
her pussy. The thought of going down on a woman repelled him, but the heat 
of his emotions made him put the idea away. He sank to his knees and let his 
head be guided between the warm plump thighs of the woman and as his 
nostrils filled with the musky heat of her pussy, he no longer cared about 
what he was going to do. 

Zelda smiled to herself as Bob's face inched closer and closer to her cunt. 
She pulled his head into the steamy crotch and sighed as his tongue flicked 
out cautiously teasing the wet folds of her vagina. Zelda helped his mouth 
by spreading her pubes with her hands for him, opening herself wide to his 
inexperienced tongue. She shifted her body around to allow his warm probe to 
center on her clit, and when he heard her moan with more excitement he knew 
that he was licking at the right spot. 

"Oh. Right there, Bob. Right there. Lick that little knob. Oh. that feels so 
good. Oh, Bob." Her voice crooned her appreciation of his efforts and he 
warmed to his task, licking her little nub with abandon, sucking it into his 
mouth, holding it between his teeth as his tongue danced over and around it. 

Bob felt the pressure of her hands behind his head, forcing his mouth deeper 
into the greasy lips of Zelda's cunt, and he loved it. His cock was 
painfully hard and he enjoyed that, too, feeling that when she had come he 
would be rewarded and feeling, too, that there was some strange exciting 
satisfaction in bringing her off with his mouth. No wonder, he thought, that 
some of his older friends had told him that he would never be a man until he 
had eaten a sopping wet pussy and enjoyed it. The turmoil of his brain 
boiled with the juices of his cock and made him force his tongue to dance 
faster and faster over the little nub of her clitoris. He found an added 
thrill in hearing her pleasure moans and knew that he was doing the right 
thing. He wondered, too, where he had ever gotten the idea that eating cunt 
was repulsive. It was almost as satisfying as fucking. 

Zelda leaned back across the bed, resting on her elbows and crooned softly 
as the boy's tongue dug into her slimy cleft, sending thrill upon thrill 
racing through her body. She reached one orgasm and clamped her thighs over 
the boy's ears and then relaxed, testing him to see if he knew what she had 
achieved. And he hadn't. With painful delight, she let him continue licking 
her snatch until she could hardly take another stroke of his tongue, but she 
forced herself and reached another throbbing finality of thrill before 
pushing his head away from her cunt. 

There was a fatigue, an ennui, that seeped through her being, but she 
managed to spread her legs wide, placing her feet on the edge of the bed. 
"Fuck me, Bob. Put your cock in my cunt, Bob. Hurry." 

He was still dizzy from the pressure of her thighs and the excitement that 
roared through his body, but he stood up and leaned over her widespread 
legs. Her hands were on him immediately, guiding his throbbing member into 
the hot cleft of her body. He shoved himself forward with all his effort and 
heard Zelda's satisfied cry as his testicles banged against her plump 
behind. She closed her legs around his waist and hunched herself upward to 
meet his impatient thrusts. Her heels slammed against his muscular buttocks 
as the boy fell forward, burying his mouth over her left breast. She let him 
suck it into rigidity as she felt his cock vomit his sperm deep into her 
yearning body. 

Opening and closing her thighs, she squeezed his final drops out. 

Zelda poured two glasses of brandy and brought one to Bob. He was resting on 
his elbows, stretched out on the bed, but Zelda didn't mind. He had given 
her a very good, if brief, stimulation with his cock. She looked down at him 
as she gave him the drink and thought that she much preferred his mouth. He 
was built well enough, bigger than Martin if not bigger than Antonio, but 
there was something about him that didn't hit her in the same way that 
Martin did or the way that Antonio did. She watched him as he took the drink 
and evaded her eyes. It wasn't the same kind of way that Martin had avoided 
her. He looked like he was skulking away like a thief. 

She sat on the edge of the bed, letting the almost nonexistent breeze cool 
her naked body, and drank her brandy. It was searingly hot going down her 
throat, but she had come to enjoy it more and more and there was only a 
whisper of an idea of what she would have to do when the case of brandy was 
finished. 

Bob didn't look at her except from under the partial secrecy of his arm 
across his forehead. There was so much to know about women and she was so 
expert as a woman that he felt awed by her presence. He wished that she 
would get dressed and as he thought about it, he swallowed his drink in a 
single gulp and reached for his shorts. 

"I think that I better be going," he said quietly as he rose from the bed. 

"Isn't there anything else that you want to tell me?" Zelda said, looking up 
at him and smiling her most comforting smile. "Something that I should 
know." 

Bob shook his head and then he remembered last night as he walked along the 
beach in one of his usual nocturnal jaunts. Mary and Martin. He had already 
been fucked by Ann earlier and he wasn't too curious, but he suddenly 
realized that Zelda didn't know about them. 

He told her. 

Zelda stared at him like a madwoman when he spelled out the details of the 
tryst he had witnessed. But she was too clever to keep up the exposure of 
herself. She suddenly smiled and told Bob that it didn't matter, but that 
she really appreciated being informed about it. She would have taken him 
back to bed again, but she knew that he was anxious to leave, sated for the 
moment, she thought, and she was just as glad for that. She rose from the 
edge of the bed and closed her arms around him, rubbing her firm breasts 
against his bare chest and whispering her enjoyment of his lovemaking in his 
ear. He kissed her warmly on the mouth and left the hut, glad enough to be 
gone from the woman who held such power over him. He ran down to the beach 
and plunged into the lagoon, letting the salt water cleanse him of the 
love-induced perspiration. 

After she had watched him run down to the water, Zelda poured herself 
another drink, swallowing that one as quickly as she had the first, burning 
out the sting of Martin's betrayal. She felt that it was that. Her hopes and 
confidence of the morning were shattered when Bob had told her what had 
happened. She was hurt. She felt that Martin had been hers, but then, she 
rationalized, she hadn't counted on the young cunt coming into the picture. 
That complicated the power she knew she still held over the boy. 

Quickly she dressed and left the hot confines of her hut and walked over to 
Antonio's quarters. She wasn't sure that he would be in, but she went 
directly and opened his door. As she hurried through the door, the idea of 
revenge on the little slut crossed her mind and she realized that was why 
she had come to Antonio. He was even more predictable than the kids. He 
would do what she had in mind and he would add a few variations of his own 
in making her revenge very sweet. Mary, she thought, looked so much the 
virgin. Zelda smiled as she stepped into the warm darkness of Antonio's hut. 

Her eyes weren't accustomed to the darkness after coming in from the 
brilliant sunlight, but she heard the rustle of the bed and guessed what was 
going on. 

"Zelda, darling. What a pleasant surprise!" She heard his voice from the 
direction of the bed and looked that way. "But you could have knocked." 

She laughed at the gibe, remembering that she had told him the same thing 
and when her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, she saw why he wasn't 
anxious to be disturbed. Ann was sitting at his feet, her hands holding his 
rigid cock. It was all too apparent that she had been sucking off the first 
mate and she was just as obviously irritated at being interrupted. 

"Go on, Ann. I know you can suck cock very well. Antonio likes that. Go 
ahead, dear. I want to watch you." 

Antonio's laugh filled the hot silence. "Go on, little one. What's the 
difference? It's nothing that our own Miss Gruder hasn't done herself many 
times. Right, Mees Gruder?" 

Zelda walked over to the table which was close to the bed and sat down. She 
took the bottle of brandy and sipped from it as she watched Ann's pretty 
face turn red and then bow over, taking Antonio's cock into her mouth. It 
was Zelda's turn to smile and feel the glow of desire throb through her 
body. Looking directly at Antonio, she blew him a silent kiss and passed the 
bottle over to him. All the while, Ann's head was bobbing up and down over 
the massive erection that Antonio presented to the juvenile's feverishly 
hard-working mouth. 

Antonio took a few sips from the bottle and handed it back to Zelda. "The 
kid's quite a good cocksucker, huh? I think that she comes by it naturally." 

"I want to talk to you," Zelda said, ignoring the girl. "There's a little 
something that I'd like you to join me in tonight. Do you understand?" 

His eyes veiled with passion, Antonio glanced from the bobbing head of the 
teenager to the face of the woman. "Anything you say, Zelda, darling." 

"I'll see you in my place when you've finished with her," she said, getting 
up and walking out. 

Antonio nodded as Zelda left, but he was in no great hurry to finish with 
Ann. As the girl worked his cock with her eager mouth, he idly wondered what 
Zelda wanted, but there were more important things to think about then. He 
let the girl have her wish and filled her mouth with his hot sperm, holding 
his breath as she sucked on until the staff of flesh grew limp and his 
nerves couldn't take it any longer. When she had finally had done with him, 
he rolled her over onto her back and spread her legs wide. He pried open her 
pubes with his thumbs and buried his face in her crotch, letting her 
baby-fat plump thighs close gloriously around his ears. Within five minutes, 
he had tongue lashed the sensitive nub of her cunt into three howling 
orgasms for her, and the auditory stimulus brought his own passion up. 
Sinking his cock into her slippery envelope of love, he eased his weight 
down on the girl and let her do the hip-twitching work. 

It was a most satisfactory afternoon for Antonio, and by the time he had 
finished with Ann, the hour was late. Yet he felt no regret that he had 
missed dinner and was not bothered at all that he had kept Zelda waiting for 
him. She would wait, he knew, and when he came she would be almost happy to 
see him even if she would attempt to browbeat him for his tardiness. 

His lateness, however, seemed to have worked in Zelda's favor. She had gone 
through the kids once more and it took her quite a while after dinner before 
she was able to make contact with Mary Pendergast. And when she found the 
girl, it was obvious that what Bob had told her was true. She was with 
Martin on the beach. They were not really intimately close and Zelda would 
not have thought that of them if she had not had the prior knowledge, but 
having had it, their closeness made her more angry. The snip, she thought, 
would not be able to replace me yet. 

Zelda wasn't strong with Mary, but she used her calm, authoritative manner 
with the girl, telling, rather than asking, her to come to her quarters. The 
girl nodded her agreement and while Martin was swimming, Zelda returned, 
waiting for both Mary and Antonio. 

She didn't have any particular plan in mind, but she knew that she wanted to 
hurt the young girl, make her pay for the audacity of infringing on the 
adult rights that Zelda held. And she would make the girl pay, Zelda vowed. 

Mary came to her quarters before Antonio, and when Zelda offered her a cup 
of tea, carefully laced with a healthy shot of brandy, the girl was taken by 
surprise. All the time she had thought that Zelda had gotten wind of the 
fact that she had been laid by Martin, but the older woman made no mention 
of it. They talked about girlish things, about the boys and, of course, 
about the possibilities of getting rescued. Once more Zelda played the 
reassuring adult and made Mary feel that rescue was just a day or two away. 

Another cup of brandy and tea and the girl was beginning to feel the giddy 
effects of the drink. She used her secret personality and revealed herself 
to the nurse, told her how she didn't really care whether they were rescued 
or not, that she had found a wonderful boy and if they had to spend the rest 
of their lives on the island then she wanted to spend them with Martin. 
Zelda accepted the girl's conversation quietly. 

By the time Antonio arrived, late but in this case very gratefully so for 
Zelda, Mary was feeling the brandy. She hardly noticed when the first mate 
walked in the door and locked it behind him. She was still engrossed in her 
conversation with Zelda. Over her head, the older persons exchanged glances 
and the man smiled with delight. 

"Are you going to offer me a drink?" He already had his hand on the bottle 
when he said it, but he waited for Zelda to nod her head. She did and gave 
him a knowing smile. He tipped the bottle to his lips and drank greedily and 
then leaned over and poured a big dollop into Mary's teacup. "Very good for 
you, dear," he said softly. 

Antonio was drunker than usual, weaving somewhat even when he had come in 
the door. It had been the combination of too much brandy, sun and Ann during 
the day, but he felt strong enough to handle anything that Zelda had to 
offer, and he had thought what she was offering was herself. The sight of 
Mary, slightly tipsy, in Zelda's chair, however, made the first mate know 
differently. The girl was not as strikingly good-looking as the much desired 
Joan or even as teasingly provocative as little Ann, but there was her young 
quim ready to be plucked, and he knew that was what Zelda had wanted him 
for. 

Zelda moved over to Mary, helped the girl to her feet and let her sway 
against her bosom. She was already drunker than Zelda had wanted her to be, 
but it made it easier to remove the girl's clothes, despite the groggy 
protests. 

Supporting the naked girl, Zelda led her over to the bed and stretched her 
out. Mary looked dizzily around the room, finally focusing her eyes on 
Antonio. The first mate was moving across the room towards the bed, and he 
was naked, his enormous cock standing stiffly in front of him, a lance that 
Mary slowly realized was going to be used on her. She cried out and started 
to get up from the bed, but Zelda held her down as Antonio grabbed her 
ankles and spread her legs wide. 

"Fuck the little bitch good, 'Tonio," Zelda whispered hoarsely. She twisted 
the girl's arms back and over her head as Antonio eased himself between the 
soft young thighs. 

Mary's crotch was suddenly fear dry as the massive knob of Antonio's cock 
bumped thickly against her pubes. He released her ankles then and used his 
fingers to pry her cunt lips apart, his thumbs forcefully irritating her 
clitoris. She kicked at him, but there was no power in her efforts, dulled 
from the booze and slow. Antonio just pushed her knees back and continued 
his devilish work on her clit, massaging desire into her cunt where she did 
not want to have desire, not this way. She cried out again, but Zelda's free 
hand came down over her mouth. 

"Just shut up and enjoy it, dear," she said. "Or you'll be a lot sorrier. I 
know about you and Martin, all about it. Now, you're going to get all the 
sex you ever dreamed about and some you might not have dreamed." 

Antonio laughed as the girl squirmed her hips in a futile attempt to get 
away from his taunting fingers. She tried to clamp her legs around his 
hands, but the pressure on her clit became more agonizing and she had to 
relax. Despite her efforts, she felt herself grow more and more flustered as 
her involuntary glands formed the necessary lubricant. Antonio felt the warm 
wetness between her legs and spread the love juice down and into her hole 
with the head of his penis. Then he slowly eased himself into her twisting 
body, his thick-knobbed cock stretching cruelly her tight youthful vagina. 
Mary cried out softly, still muffled by Zelda's hand. The pain was 
excruciating and she cried again, this time biting the woman's hand. 

Zelda pulled her hand back and swung it down viciously, cracking the girl on 
one side of the face and then the other. "Bite me, you little bitch? Take 
that and that," she said, her eyes blazing with a fury that Mary could not 
imagine to be sane. "Ram it to her, 'Tonio. I want her fucked until she 
can't walk." 

Antonio crushed his weight down on the girl, holding her arms when Zelda had 
released them. His cock drove into her tight pocket with renewed fury. It 
was as though he, too, was caught up in the madness that Zelda expressed in 
her angry face. The girl fought him as best she could, her legs kicking 
madly at his back. But nothing she did seemed to make the awful pain between 
her legs go away and still the first mate jammed, rammed and shoved her cunt 
until she thought that he was going to split her half. She tried to relax, 
wanted to relax for she knew that would make the pain less intense, but her 
panic wouldn't allow her to relax. She fought the big man and tried vainly 
to squirm out from under his weight, to get away from the awful punishing 
pole of flesh that was ripping her apart. 

Tears streamed down her face as she finally realized that fighting the big 
man was useless, but her body would not allow her to relax, but it was a 
different tension that began to build in her muscles. The pain seemed 
suddenly to have diminished and in its place came the fearful and pleasant 
sensations of sexual passion. It was all wrong, so terribly wrong, she kept 
saying, but her body denied her, betrayed her and even over the cruel 
laughter of Zelda and Antonio, she felt her legs wrap around the first mate, 
felt herself rise quickly to an orgasmic peak and plunge deliciously over 
the threshold. Again and again the long hot rod of Antonio's cock eased in 
and out of her cunt sending new thrills of desire shooting through her body. 
Now her tears were passion-induced, her eyes dimmed with the rush of blood 
and the pounding excitement of the huge penis-piston working her crotch 
madly and wonderfully. Mary ceased her crying. Her breath came in short 
gasps, keeping pace with Antonio's driving cock. Her head was swimming and 
the laughing face of Zelda seemed far away, a dim face at the end of a long 
tunnel and the voices, too, only echoed around in her head but made no sense 
to her. 

"Turn her over, 'Tonio. See how she likes it up her ass," Zelda said, 
smiling down at the girl and feeling the crazy excitement of the rape pound 
furiously through her body. She had stripped out of her own clothes when she 
noticed that Mary was reaching ah orgasm. There was no need to hold the 
girl. The girl was being held more securely by her own fiery passions. 

Laughing wildly, Antonio pulled his cock dripping from Mary's cunt and 
quickly flipped the girl over onto her belly. He forced her legs up 
underneath her and patted the round firm flesh of her haunches admiringly. 

Mary made no protest of the new position, grateful for the moment of being 
able to feel the warm air, cool to her, brush soothingly over her fevered 
cunt. She relaxed and felt almost comfortable with her ass high in the air. 
She felt herself grow soft and mushy, a piece of marshmallow. Her muscles 
refused to contract. She had no fight left in her. She was only dimly aware 
of the painful pleasure of the man's hands above her hips. It tickled her, 
but she had no strength even to giggle. She felt the goosing touch of his 
cock at the rim of her anus, twitched her muscles slightly and then felt the 
jabbing, searing pain as the knob pushed through the ring. Her body tried to 
squirt forward, but his hands held her tightly while his massive organ slid 
inexorably deeper and deeper up her rectum. 

The initial entry was painful, but still dizzy from her multiple orgasms, 
she suddenly found that the thick pole in her ass had some pleasantness. She 
felt filled up, almost gaggingly so, but there was the sweet feeling of it, 
too, and as the cock pulled out and sunk in again she felt herself respond 
to this novel method. Her hips rolled back to meet Antonio's penis, feeling 
the painful sweetness of his enormity slide deep into her rectum. 

Zelda watched as the girl's expression had changed from pain to pleasure and 
she felt more angry than ever. Without a moment's hesitation, she eased 
herself onto the bed, spreading her legs around the girl's head. Mary hardly 
noticed her until she felt a hand take a lock of hair and felt her face 
being guided to the yawning wet split between Zelda's thighs. 

Mary attempted to shake her head, to move away from what the woman wanted, 
but her rectum was being assaulted most delightfully and with the dizziness 
of the brandy and her own passion she couldn't fight. She let her mouth be 
pulled down to the dark thatch of hair and knew what had to be done. She 
simply stuck out her tongue and drove it into the wet folds of Zelda's cunt, 
licking up and down the puffy pubes of the older woman, lighting finally on 
the rigid nub of her clitoris. Zelda moaned her approval, but she held the 
girl's hair, feeling the sensation of control that gave her more keenly than 
the girl's hot tongue in her cunt. 

His senses brandy dulled and his face sweating from the exertions, Antonio 
shoved into the girl's ass with all his might, ramming his burning cock 
deeper and unloading his long delayed orgasm hotly in her bowels. At the 
same moment, Zelda clamped her sweaty thighs around the girl's head and 
experienced a throbbing orgasm that made her grip the sides of the bed 
tightly. 

When she and Antonio finally got up from the bed, Mary stayed, half 
sleeping, half crying and laughing, but too weak to move. Zelda laughed and 
turned to Antonio. 

"I hope you've saved enough of that cock for me, 'Tonio. Come here and let 
me wash you off a little," she said, smiling at the swaying first mate. He 
laughed and stepped over to the wash basin with the woman and felt a new 
surge of pleasure through his limp cock as she rinsed it and his balls 
gently and tantalizingly. 

Satisfied that was almost ready, Zelda dropped to her knees and took his 
thick-knobbed penis between her lips, nursing the soft head with little 
puckering movements of her mouth until she could feel the flesh grow harder 
and begin to stand erect. Holding his cock in her hand she led him over to 
the table, pushed back the bottle and the lantern and spread herself over 
it. "Fuck me, Tonio," she said, edging her ass over the rim of the table and 
guiding his stiff cock between the warm slippery thighs and into the gaping 
hole of her cunt. Before he could reach an orgasm, Mary woke up and started 
to leave, but they stopped her. Zelda then forced the girl down to her knees 
and guided Antonio's cock into the girl's mouth. Zelda stood back and 
watched as the first mate held the back of Mary's head and forced his cock 
in and out of her tear-stained face, her dribbling wet mouth until she saw 
him tighten his buttocks as he released his sperm down the girl's throat. 
They let her go after she had put her clothes on. 

 CHAPTER NINE 

"I'll kill him," Martin said. "I'll kill both of them. God, they have to be 
stopped, Mary." 

Martin had waited for her under the palm tree for hours, but when she didn't 
show up he had wandered down the beach, trying to forget her and not 
realizing that she had been with Zelda. He should have known and even while 
he comforted the hysterical girl, he cursed his stupidity. 

Slowly and painfully, Mary had sobbed out the whole story of her rape, 
stopping every few minutes for a new burst of tears. She had wanted to kill 
herself when Zelda and Antonio finally let her go, kill herself more for 
failing herself and allowing herself to enjoy what they had done to her than 
over the shame of it having happened at all. 

It was almost daylight when Martin found her. She had tripped through the 
soft sand and down to the beach, hoping that she would find Martin there. 
She wanted to go to bed, but she knew she couldn't sleep. When the cool 
water of the lagoon woke her, however, she knew she couldn't kill herself 
and all the while that was what she was thinking, wanting, and then he was 
there beside her, holding out his hand and helping her back onto the beach, 
and then gently taking her wet clothing off so that she could dry in the 
warm air. 

He held her naked body close to himself, shielding her from the 
panic-induced shivers that wracked her body. It was a tender moment and 
while he looked at her curves in the dim light of the moon he felt no desire 
for her then, only the desire to protect her, comfort her. 

"We'll have to get the others and work out a plan to get away from them." he 
said when Mary had finally relaxed. He held her still, but her breathing had 
slowed to normal and she was no longer chilled. "You'll have to help, Mary. 
Can you do it?" 

She nodded. She couldn't do much else, she thought, and words only seemed to 
make her want to cry, but she agreed with Martin. They would have to run 
away and hide in the jungle until the rescue came and it would surely come. 
It would come, she kept telling herself, and the nightmare of Zelda and 
Antonio would be over. 

"You'll have to get the girls," he said. "I'll get the boys together. But 
you'll have to convince them that we're in danger, all of us." 

Martin didn't wait for Mary to reply. He was trying to think of what they 
could do. He knew that the first mate had a knife, and the unpleasant 
realization that Antonio would not hesitate to use it made Martin shiver. 
Quickly he ran through the boys' names, trying to find one or two big 
enough- to help him take Antonio if it had to come to a fight. Bob Haas was 
the only boy big as himself, but Martin knew that there was no love lost 
between them and Haas was pretty thick with Antonio. He decided to count Bob 
as an enemy, and then realized that there was no one else who could help 
him. 

They were in no immediate danger, however, Martin thought, and they wouldn't 
be until there was some sign that there would be a rescue. But he remembered 
what Antonio had told him, that within a month a serious search would be 
made, since they would have missed their arrival time by more than a couple 
of days. But how far had they been blown off course? Martin had no way of 
knowing. He wasn't even very sure just exactly how long they had been on the 
island. A month? Six weeks? Time seemed to elude him. It didn't matter, he 
told himself. The important thing to remember was that they would be 
rescued. 

He brooded for a long time and then became warmly conscious of Mary's nude 
body pressed against him. For an instant he was tempted to make love to her, 
but immediately felt ashamed of himself. She had been through enough, and he 
knew that he needed her, needed her to protect his own sanity. 

She was almost asleep, but he had to disturb her to go and wake the others, 
tell them what he knew and make them promise to meet after breakfast 
somewhere away from the camp, away from Zelda and Antonio. 

He went through the old barrack quonset hut, woke each boy in turn and 
explained what he had in mind. It wasn't easy, for he wasn't sure just what 
he did have in mind, but he was reassured when he spoke to Ronnie. The boy 
broke down and told Martin what had happened to him almost the first week 
they had landed. Martin told his own story and the boy, in turn, became 
reassured. The thought of adventure against the adults, perhaps, making him 
an enthusiastic follower. Bob wasn't in his bed. 

Mary went to the girls' rooms and told them what had happened. She was 
surprised, but she couldn't make any judgment about the implications of it, 
when she found Joan and Ellen sleeping together. The older girl, Joan, 
seemed shocked and readily agreed that they should get away, but Ellen 
seemed indifferent. What could they do, she asked. She received the same 
kind of question from Ann, while the youngest girl, Norma, only started to 
cry. In the end, however, Mary had convinced the other four girls that they 
would have to let Martin explain. 

Back on the beach just as the sun was coming up, Martin and Mary met. Though 
neither had slept, they felt more wide awake than ever. "It's all set," 
Martin said. "We'll meet after break- fast down around the other side of the 
point. How did the girls take it?" 

Mary explained the different reactions of the girls, but assured Martin that 
they would be at the meeting, all of them. "Are you all right?" Martin 
asked. His hand moving slowly over to Mary's waist and bringing her close to 
him. "You're not scared now, are you?" 

She shook her head and then lifted her face to his, kissing him warmly on 
the lips before breaking away. "I'll be fine. But I don't want to see them 
again. I'm going down to the meeting place. Explain for me." 

Martin held her close, feeling very protective and grown up, and then he 
released her, watching her as she ran across the sand and finally out of 
sight. 

He had impressed on all the boys that they were to say nothing, to try to 
act normal when Antonio or Zelda came around and to try to leave the camp 
area individually. Despite his warnings, however, he could feel the tension 
when he came back and stood in the breakfast line. The boy and girl 
appointed for the cooking chore were nervous and nearly spilled his powdered 
eggs. He whispered some assurance to them and then walked off to sit under a 
tree as Zelda came down the path from her hut. He looked past her and tried 
to determine if Antonio was far behind, but the first mate didn't appear. He 
tried to look away, but not before he-saw Zelda smiling at him, nodding a 
greeting that he almost felt like not returning. He waved at her, however, 
and returned to his eggs, eating quickly so that he would be finished before 
she could come over and sit beside him. 

Zelda took only hot tea for her breakfast and, seeing Martin hurrying 
through his breakfast, she wanted to talk to him. She carried her cup over 
and sat down on the grassy patch of ground next to him. 

"Good morning, Martin," she said. "I hope you had a pleasant sleep last 
night." 

"While you were raping Mary," he answered between his tightened jaws. "You 
rotten bitch. How could you do such a thing?" He turned and was ready to hit 
her when Antonio came down the path. 

Zelda stood up, dumping her tea on the ground and running toward the first 
mate. Martin watched her go, and throwing his plate down ran off through the 
jungle. 

There was something in his voice that frightened Zelda, shook her from her 
cool composure. She knew that he was going to strike her and she had run, 
letting her power over the boy crumble. Antonio hadn't heard what was said, 
but he took Zelda in his arms and listened as she explained that the girl 
had told Martin and that there was bound to be trouble. He laughed at her 
and patted the shiny knife at his side. "Not much trouble, Mees Gruder. Not 
with this around. There's nothing to worry about. A fucking kid, that's all. 
I'll fix him." 

It had happened so fast that Zelda hadn't realized that the other children 
were watching, waiting for something and then suddenly they, too, ran away. 
She realized then that Martin and Mary must have told them everything. Her 
body shook as she felt her control whisked away. She turned to Antonio. 
"Look at them. Where are they going? What the hell is happening?" 

"Let 'em go. What can they do? And stop that fucking blubbering. I want 
something to eat." He walked away from her and picked up the ladle in the 
pan of scrambled powdered eggs where the kid had been dishing them out. He 
heaped the food on his plate and ate hungrily. But he was thinking of what 
might happen should the rescue come very soon. He knew that there were laws 
about rape, and he knew that the girl wouldn't dare tell on him if she 
hadn't had the boy to back her up. It didn't take long for him to decide 
what he had to do. The kid must go. An accident. Tut, tut, and all that, he 
laughed to himself. He knew how to handle it. Quickly, he finished his meal 
and went off into the jungle to find the kids, especially to find Martin. 
Antonio knew he had to kill Martin. 

Antonio spent the better part of an hour searching the immediate area of the 
camp. The kids were nowhere around and he was about to give up and return to 
Zelda when he ran into Bob. Quickly he explained what had happened and got 
the big blond boy to join him. Together they went farther into the jungle, 
spread out and eventually met back at the camp. Neither of them had had any 
luck. 

"They can't be hidden forever," Antonio said. "Let's find Zelda and start a 
real search plan." 

They ran over to Zelda's hut and burst through the door and found the 
solution to their problem had been solved already by the nurse. Strapped to 
a chair with a gag in her mouth was Joan Tribble. 

Antonio looked over at Zelda and made a little bow. "You surprise me, Mees 
Gruder. How did you manage to capture such a pretty prize?" 

Zelda explained how she saw Joan return to the camp after the others had 
gone. "She's not as strong as she looks," Zelda said. "It was easy. And now, 
little miss, where are the others?" 

The girl shook her head. Zelda reached over and hit her on each side of the 
face. "I think that you'll tell us sooner or later. Won't she, 'Tonio?" 

The first mate laughed and stepped closer to Joan, lifted her face, now 
stained with tears and red from the slaps. "Sure she will, huh, conchita? 
I'm going to take your gag off, but you mustn't make a fuss." He slipped the 
rag from her mouth, held it threateningly in front of her until he was 
convinced that she wasn't going to scream. "Now tell us where the others 
are. It's so much easier that way." 

"I won't," Joan said. "You're bad, all three of you. The kids have decided 
to stay hidden until the rescue boat comes." 

Zelda looked up at Antonio. "Not very cooperative, is she? Perhaps she'd 
like a little treatment." 

Antonio needed no further encouragement. He reached down and ripped the 
girl's blouse open, exposing her full firm breasts. Smiling still, he spread 
the blouse wide to let his hands have better access to the pert globes of 
flesh. He ran his fingers over them, pinching the nipples softly until they 
sprang involuntarily erect. Joan gave a cry and tried to twist away, but her 
movements were limited by the straps holding her to the chair. 

"Don't. Please don't," Joan cried. "Please. You're hurting me." She cried 
out louder when he pinched her nipple viciously. 

"Tell us where the others are." 

"No. I can't." 

Antonio smiled down at the girl and then untied her from the chair, helping 
her to her feet. Her hands were still clamped together behind her back and 
her ankles tied together. Carefully he lifted her and carried her to the 
bed, laying her face down over the cover. With expert fingers, he unfastened 
her shorts and pulled them down below her knees, leaving her round firm ass 
bare and helplessly upended. Her legs were on the floor, her face almost 
buried in the bed. She was sobbing hysterically, knowing immediately what 
was going to happen to her. In some ways, the rape by the big man was what 
she had been secretly desiring for a long time. But it was different now. 
She knew she was going to be hurt. 

Rough fingers began to pry apart her buttocks and, with a surge of strength, 
Joan twisted over and fell on the floor. Antonio only laughed at her, 
lifting her easily back onto the bed, this time stretched full length on it, 
her arms painfully pinned beneath her own weight. He had a demented look in 
his eye as he leaned over her and put his hand on her dark triangle, 
massaging her mound intimately. Fear kept Joan from feeling more than his 
hand. There was no erotic tingle to this touch now as it might have been 
some other time. At least there was immediate sensation of pleasure, but 
even as she stared through her tears at the big first mate she wondered how 
long she would be able to take the warm pressure of his hand. And while she 
thought of it and the tears started anew, she felt his finger slip down and 
glide between her pubes. She clamped her legs tightly together, but his 
thick finger found her clit and began to stroke her screaming nerves with 
methodical certainty, devastatingly sensitive touches that made her twist 
her hips and attempt to roll away from him, but he was too strong. The 
finger worried her cunt until she was nearly blind with fear and passion. 

Antonio called Bob over and had him hold her legs while he unfastened her 
ankles and pulled her shorts completely off. "I think she'll talk a bit 
better after she's been fucked a few times, don't you, Bob?" 

Joan attempted to kick the boy, but he was almost as strong as Antonio. He 
held her legs down on the bed, pressing his hands cruelly into the soft 
flesh above her knees. Then she watched in horror and fascination as the 
first mate stripped out of his shorts, his massive cock leaping upward, a 
staff of punishment and delight, and Joan knew that it would be punishment 
for her. She cried again and started to scream, but suddenly Zelda's hand 
was over her mouth, closing off the cry. 

"Shove the rag back in her mouth," Antonio said and waited while Zelda 
squeezed the girl's jaws open and jammed in a knotted cloth, carefully tying 
it around the girl's head. 

Zelda then took one of the girl's legs, lifted it and spread her open. She 
indicated to Bob to do the same thing and with mounting delight in the 
proceedings, he spread Joan's other leg until the girl was almost suspended 
from the bed, cunt gaping wide for the throbbing cock of Antonio. 

The first mate clambered onto the bed, kneeling for an instant between the 
girl's widespread legs before lowering his body downward, carefully aiming 
his heavy lance at her love pocket. She was dry with fear and crying through 
the gag as his thick cock head pressed against her cunt. Movement was futile 
though she tried. She felt his fingers prying open her pubes and then felt 
the full stab of his cock as it ripped through the dry tissue. Her scream of 
pain was muffled, but her legs contracted so violently that Bob and Zelda 
almost lost their hold on them. Antonio's hard shaft pulled back out of her 
cunt and then rammed in again, and then repeated until Joan's natural juices 
made the passage in and out less painful if no less humiliating. 

When Antonio had spewed his come deep into her body, he pulled himself out 
quickly, grabbed the leg that Bob was holding and let the boy have his way 
with the girl. Bob was just as vicious as the first mate, but her cunt had 
been well lubed by Antonio and Bob's cock slid into her with ease. But he 
jammed himself into her like a madman, slamming his pelvic bone against hers 
until she had to cry out through the gag. 

By the time he had finished, Antonio was ready again, but this time there 
was no need for Joan's legs to be held wide apart. She felt her crotch burn 
and suddenly no longer cared what they were doing to her. Despite herself, 
she was beginning to react pleasurably to the assaults, and, though her legs 
were dangling helplessly around the first mate's body, her hips began to 
roll with each thrust of his huge cock, rising to meet the thick pole of 
flesh as it buried itself in her cunt. 

"Want the gag out?" Antonio asked. He was resting on his elbows over the 
girl's body, his face close to her ear. He recognized the reaction he was 
getting from Joan, the familiar responsive rolling of the girl's hips, her 
upward thrusts to meet his cock. He knew she was coming with almost every 
other stroke. Her eyes were wide but glazed over in the fever of her 
passion. 

Joan nodded her head and quickly Antonio removed the muffling rag from her 
mouth. She gasped and swallowed several times, but while she was trying to 
get her mouth returned to normal, she never missed a stroke with her hot 
tossing body. "Thank you," she finally managed to whisper. 

Zelda came over to the bed again and put her face close to the girl's. "Want 
to tell us where the others are, Joan?" She, too, had recognized the girl's 
uncontrollable passion as Antonio and Bob had fucked her. She was getting 
more than she had ever had at one time, and Zelda realized that in her 
present state she wouldn't be too difficult. 

Her breath short and the sweet pain between her legs almost unbearable, Joan 
only half listened to Zelda, but she understood and spoke like a drunk, her 
words slurred in the heat of her passion, but clear enough for Zelda. In the 
cave under the waterfall. 

Antonio laughed and lunged his cock deep into the girl and shot his load. "I 
know where that is," he said. "It's where Ellen and Joan used to scarf each 
other." 

The girl looked at the grinning face just above hers and stared with wide 
eyes and then turned her face away. He had seen. They all knew. She 
whimpered even as she felt another orgasm rip through her body and blushed 
furiously. She wanted to die. 

"Get up, Tony," Bob said. "I want to have some more fun, too." 

Antonio rolled over and rose from the bed. 

"You like the sloppy seconds?" 

Bob glared at him while Zelda stood off and smiled. Flustered, he looked at 
Zelda and then back at Antonio. "No." he said, smiling evilly, "I've got a 
better idea. 'I'm going to take her like we took Phillip." 

He suddenly realized what he had said and before he could roll Joan over 
onto her stomach, Zelda was upon him. "What the hell did you mean by that?" 
She didn't wait for the boy to answer before she cracked him across one side 
of the face and then the other. "What did you do to that kid? Tell me, you 
little son of a bitch, or I'll tear your testicles off." 

Frightened, Bob stood back and blubbered put the story of his and Antonio's 
rape of Phillip. Zelda looked away and said nothing. Suddenly she ran from 
the door and with her laughter ringing in their ears she was gone. 

Antonio glanced over at Bob. "Well, go ahead, kid. You might as well enjoy 
it. But what in the hell made you say something like that to her? Shit." He 
turned from Bob and reached for his shorts, pulling them on even as he moved 
out of the door and went after Zelda. 

"Bob," Joan said quietly, "what were you talking about? Don't hurt me, Bob. 
Please don't hurt me." 

The big blond boy looked down at the girl, helplessly spread-eagled on the 
bed, her arms still tied behind her back, her legs too tired to close in 
modesty. Why didn't she scream? If she had hollered or made a fuss it would 
have been so easy. But she was just quietly pleading with him, begging him, 
but no longer begging out of fear, just begging out of fatigue. 

Shaking his head, he turned from her and went over and put on his shorts. 
Suddenly he knew that what he was doing was very wrong and stepping back to 
the bed, he rolled Joan over and untied her wrists. He didn't wait for her 
to get up. He ran out to look for Antonio. 

Joan lay on the bed for a few minutes, letting the blood re-circulate 
through her hands and arms and feeling so tired that she wanted to sleep. 
But she knew that she had to warn Martin and the others about the meeting 
place, the one they had decided upon after the first meeting at the point. 
It had even been her suggestion. She had felt that it was the safest place 
on the island, but then she remembered that she and Ellen had been seen 
there. There were no secrets, and Joan wondered then if the other kids knew. 
Slowly she got up and dressed herself, tying the torn blouse as best she 
could to hold her sore breasts in tightly. She felt dirty, used and wanted 
to plunge into the fresh-water pool as she ran past it, but she had to warn 
the others. 

 CHAPTER TEN 

It had been Martin's suggestion that they all return to the camp, the boys 
going carefully ahead and each armed with a heavy stick. Martin knew that 
the weapons were pretty useless, but he thought that a show of force might 
prove effective. 

Earlier in the day they had listened to Joan's calm recital of her rape at 
the hands of Antonio, Bob and Zelda. And then they heard what had happened 
to Phillip. It was Martin who had to spell out for the girls what had been 
meant when Bob wanted to turn Joan over. But if there was shock all around 
the group, it didn't show. For herself, Joan thought it was terrible, but 
Mary remembered her own reactions to being buggered. Even as she thought of 
the night before she blushed and held onto Martin's hand tighter. 

They were almost back to the camp when one of the boys in front shouted for 
everyone to be quiet. "It's a plane," he cried. They listened and then they 
all heard the steady drone of a small plane. 

Forgotten was the trio at the camp as they ran out of the jungle and onto 
the beach. The girls all took off their blouses and were waving them 
frantically overhead when the sound gradually died away. Now the keen sense 
of disappointment ran through the group, but Martin rallied them. Wait, he 
told them. It has to come back. It must, he prayed to himself, squeezing 
Mary's hand even tighter than she had squeezed his. 

And it came back, swinging low over the edge of the jungle. Some of the kids 
ran out into the surf and waved hysterically, and they were seen. The pilot 
swooped low and banked sharply and made another pass over the group. Pulling 
up, the plane seemed to hover and then Martin noticed that the pilot was 
wagging the wings. They had been seen. 

The plane made another pass over them and then took out over the water. 
Martin sat down on the sand and wanted to laugh out loud. It was all right, 
he kept shouting to the others, reassuring them that they had all been seen 
and the pilot was probably already radioing for help. It was the end of it 
all, he cried, and he really cried, tears running down his cheeks as Mary 
pressed him to her bosom. 

"How soon before they send help?" 

He told the group that gathered around him that they would probably be on a 
homeward bound boat tomorrow. It was the greatest news they could have 
heard. 

The droning engine did not go unnoticed by Zelda and Antonio, either. Both 
of them watched the circling plane and when Antonio pointed out how it had 
wagged its wings he said, "It's all over, Mees Gruder. They were spotted by 
the plane all right. So now what?" 

Zelda looked up at him and shook her head. "I don't really know, 'Tonio. It 
could mean a helluva jail sentence for us. Statutory rape and all that." 

"Maybe not," Antonio said, slipping his knife from his belt "Maybe not I 
sort of think that the kids will be too glad to be able to go home. They're 
all not exactly innocent themselves, you know. They might be just as worried 
about the truth as you are." 

Zelda looked at him, recognizing for the first time that the man was not 
just the burly stud that she had always taken him for. But she told herself 
that he was all wrong. After what they had done to Mary and Joan and after 
what they had done to Phillip? She shook her head. It was an impossible 
idea. Somewhere something had happened. Martin and Mary had found some sort 
of puppy love, but it was worse than a more mature kind. The boy would be 
out for vengeance and he wouldn't care if he had to drag his girl friend's 
name through the dirt. 

She looked up at Antonio suddenly. "You know, you might be right. But only 
if we can keep Martin from blowing the whole thing. He's the one I worry 
about." She looked down at the knife that Antonio had pulled from his belt. 
It gave her an idea. "An accident?" 

Antonio flicked his thumb over the edge of the blade. He nodded and laughed. 
"An accident. It's so understandable on an island." 

After Bob had run out from the hut and left Joan behind, he realized that he 
didn't want to be with Zelda or Antonio. For the first time in his life, he 
felt the sharp pain of remorse over what he was about to do to Joan and it 
made him sick. He turned from the beach and ran toward the waterfall area. 
He ran for a long time, but he never found the waterfall, only more and more 
jungle and bugs and heat. Wandering for a couple of hours, he realized that 
he was running nowhere. 

He sat down at last, exhausted, his flesh bruised badly from the leaves he 
had run through. He knew that he would never find the other kids and as he 
sat alone in the heat of the afternoon and heard the plane overhead, he 
realized that they might not want him back even if he did find them. Rested, 
he got up and started walking back toward the camp. What he had done was 
done, he told himself. There would be a rescue and when he was back home his 
father would take care of everything. He hadn't really killed Phillip, he 
told himself. The stupid faggot killed himself. It was simple and the more 
he thought about it the quicker his pace through the jungle became. But it 
was slow going through the underbrush. 

Antonio smiled at Zelda and walked away into the jungle. He knew the way to 
the waterfall, but since Joan had escaped he felt certain the kids would not 
be there. He considered the possibility that with the prospect of an 
imminent rescue that they might try to return to the camp and the more he 
thought of it the more convinced he became. Would they sneak up? Of course. 
It seemed so obviously the thing to do. There were, after all, ten of them 
against the two. He hefted the knife and moved through the underbrush 
slowly, his ears straining to hear the slightest strange sound. 

So like a dumb kid, Antonio thought when he heard something. He froze behind 
a tree and listened more intently to the footfalls. A dumb kid, he thought, 
coming through like the cavalry, not caring that he was making any noise or 
that someone might be there to squelch his invasion. 

Antonio waited until the leaves near the path swung outward and then he 
whirled around the tree, his knife belly level and driving hard. He felt the 
resistance of first impact and then the sickening slip of the blade as it 
cut through. There was a gasp, hardly louder than a cough and then silence. 
Antonio had struck the boy even before he could see the face and when he did 
he dropped his grip on the handle and left the knife buried to the hilt in 
Bob Haas' belly. 

After the plane had left, Martin called everyone around him and told them 
that the best thing to do was to stick together on the beach. They would not 
be going back to the camp until the next morning. 

"It's almost sunset now," he said. "The best thing to do is to find 
someplace around here that's comfortable and wait until dawn. We'd only get 
lost in the dark." 

They knew that they wouldn't be eating anything that night, but the glorious 
thoughts of rescue the next day made the pangs of hunger faint. They could 
wait. 

Martin and Mary sat on the sand for a long time after the others had found 
places to lay down. There had been enough excitement to make most of them 
sleepy early, but the two oldest, Martin and Mary, were still talking 
quietly on the beach after the stars had come out. Yet they seemed to have 
very little to say, a rehash of what had happened in the last twenty-four 
hours and then the silent conversation of their bodies so close together. 
There was no further need to comfort Mary, and both of them became aware of 
the fact that rescue would mean the end of their relationship. Without a 
word, Martin helped Mary to her feet and led her across the cool sand and 
into the shelter of the jungle's edge. He made her lay down and told her to 
try to get some sleep. 

"Stay with me," she said. 

"I can't. I'm going back to the camp and see what has happened. They heard 
the plane, too, you know. Don't worry. I'll be all right. Wait for me." 

Mary had not had much sleep in the last day and while she protested Martin's 
leaving, she was suddenly very tired and the cool grass felt too inviting to 
resist. She waved farewell to him and turned over. It was something that 
boys had to do, she thought, a shiny armor kind of thing, and it made her 
feel better thinking of that. 

Martin kept close to the edge of the jungle until he was about two hundred 
yards from the camp. Then he moved deep into the underbrush and crept softly 
toward the camp. 

The moon was up by then and made its eerie light bright on the dark green 
foliage. He pushed through it slowly and froze as the moon exposed the 
corpse of Bob Haas. Martin wanted to be sick, but he stood and looked down 
at the dead boy, the knife, Antonio's knife, still buried in his belly. 

Martin turned and moved back to where the others were sleeping on the beach 
as quickly as he could. Suddenly he realized that they were all in danger. 
When he reached the beach, however, he knew he couldn't make it to the 
others. Antonio stood about twenty yards from him. For a second neither 
moved and then the first mate charged in a low crouch, his powerful arms 
tensed and low for a brutal tackle. Martin gauged his run and sidestepped 
the big man and ran for the water. He wasn't sure that Antonio was a good 
swimmer, but he knew that he was and knew that he would have to swim for his 
life. But at the last second, Martin changed his mind and dashed through the 
surf instead of plunging into the water. Antonio raced behind and he was 
gaining on the boy. As the fear of what the boy knew hammered in his head, 
the first mate found new strength, his breath coming in great gulps, but he 
knew he was going to catch Martin. 

The boy felt like plunging into the water, but he knew his wind was going 
fast. Antonio was rapidly closing the distance and seemed to be getting 
stronger. As he neared the point, he remembered the coral, just slightly 
submerged. If he could.... He stopped and swallowed deeply, breathing faster 
to hyper-aspirate himself. Then as Antonio's big hands were almost upon him, 
Martin hurled himself into the water, arching his body to hit the surface 
flat and, hopefully, shallow enough to avoid the jagged coral just beneath 
the surface. Antonio cursed as the boy's body seemed to melt away from his 
grasp and into the water. The boy was swimming quickly away as Antonio made 
up his mind. Without looking, he plunged into the water, diving nicely, but 
unaware of the sharp edges of the coral inches under the surface. 

From twenty yards out, Martin heard the scream as Antonio's torso was ripped 
open on the razor-edged coral. Then there was silence. Martin swam out 
another ten yards before slowly paddling his way back to the beach some 
distance from where he had dove in. In the light of the moon he could see 
the first mate's body floating face down on the calm water. The dark area 
around the body would be blood, he thought as he turned and walked slowly up 
the beach. This time he would find Zelda alone. There was no one else to 
confront her and what she had done to the group of kids in her charge. 

It was nearly dawn when Martin stretched out beside Mary. The girl's warm 
body responded immediately even though she was not yet fully awake. He had 
come back, and she knew what she had to do. Her lips found his and her arms 
went around his shoulders, pulled him closer. She shot her tongue into his 
mouth and let her hand roam down to the bulge in his shorts. Ooh, she sighed 
to herself, that's what I want. 

They stripped themselves in silence and let their bodies join. Her crotch 
was ready, moist with the thinking of Martin's cock in there and when he 
penetrated her tight hole of love she wrapped her legs around him, held him 
tightly and squeezed from herself all the thoughts of what had happened to 
her with Antonio and Zelda. 

Fatigue and the excitement of the events made Martin quick with his pent-up 
release. He shot his semen into her and felt that he had not yet satisfied 
her, but her body throbbed against his as if to say that everything was all 
right. And it was. 

Later on he explained to Mary that he had not been able to find Zelda. He 
told her about Bob and Antonio and then told the rest of the group. 

"The boat's on the way," he said as they all stood on the beach and watched 
the whaler being rowed slowly towards them. "But a lot has happened here to 
all of us. Miss Gruder is gone. She's somewhere on the island, I guess, but 
maybe she just took a swim. At any rate, it doesn't seem to be much purpose 
in telling what went on here these weeks. My guess is that the first mate 
went mad and killed Bob. Phillip had an accident. Miss Gruder is missing. 
Let them look for her." 

They all looked at each other and silently agreed that what Martin Kelly 
said made sense. Joan was happy to forget it. Ellen would have denied it. 
And Ann and Ronnie and Alex. Norma wasn't sure what had happened, but she 
agreed to say nothing. 

The boat pulled up on the beach and one by one they got into it, hardly 
saying more than yes or no to the questions of the reporters who were there. 
When they were all aboard the ship that stood outside the lagoon, Martin and 
Mary leaned over the rail and watched as the small boat returned with the 
body of Bob Haas. They had not been able to find Antonio's body. 

"Is it over for us?" Mary asked. 

"I don't know," he said. "I don't think we'll ever be able to forget it." 
Mary nodded in agreement. 

Zelda Gruder stood behind a tree and watched the rescue take place. It 
seemed fitting that she would not be among those rescued. What was the 
difference, she asked herself. This island as a prison or some other prison? 
It all seemed the same to her. There was the escape of the sea. Phillip had 
taken that way. But Zelda knew that she would not be able to kill herself. 

She remained standing on the beach as the ship pulled farther and farther 
over the horizon and wondered if any of the kids would remember her, 
remember what she had done to them and for them. She told herself that she 
had done something for some of them. Martin would be a good man. Someday. 
And Mary? A strong girl. She would survive. Ann? What had happened to her 
only happened sooner than it would have. Joan, too. And Ronnie. He would 
grow out of it. The others didn't seem to matter anymore, and, as the last 
wisp of smoke curled into the bright blue sky, she laughed. And she kept on 
laughing right on into the night and the next day. 


End
