The rusting old freighter bucked and heaved in the turbulent western Gulf of Mexico waters 160 kilometers north of Isla de la Providencia. The emergent wind gusts filled the air with a loudening growl and sent spouts of sea foam spraying across the undulating deck. For an instant, from a distance of nearly a kilometer away, a feminine scream could be heard above the whine of the wind.

On the freighter's upper deck a supple dark haired girl named Michelle was tied to one of the huge booms over the front hold. The thrashing girl, her short, ripe body stretched taut, her blouse ripped open to reveal her ample, creamy-white breasts and pale pink nipples. Stok, the sadistic giant of a bos'n, stood beside her, a wicked length of tarred knotted rope in his hand. The huge man pulled back the rope flog carefully inspecting its tar dipped tip for signs of the girl's blood. Grunting with satisfaction that the weapon was doing its intended job the rope swirled above his head before Stok slashed the jagged knotted end across Michelle's exposed unturned breasts.

The heavy tip dug furrows in the fleshy orbs and Michelle squealed in misery as her lithe body jerked about pitifully like a fleshy, luscious puppet dangling helplessly.

Then from the shadows stepped Grud, the freighter's emaciated captain. A thin line of the puffy white scar was barely visible along his chin. With one brutal gesture, he ripped off what remained of Michelle's blouse.

"What were you doing in the hold?" he asked, in his nasal voice as he slapped her throbbing breasts savagely. Then Grud grabbed the rope from Stok and began lashing the naked girl's plump breasts.

Michelle's scream was like nothing human as her legs doubled and her head snapped back. Her dark eyes were wide open as she clamped her teeth into her full lips. Another strike caused her to bite down until she drew blood which dripped down her chin dropping onto the bruised flesh of her naked orbs.

Tears cascaded down her pale cheeks and her bloody lips trembled as she spoke. "Nothing," she babbled. "I got lost. I don't know anything. My God have mercy. I can't live through this. I'll do anything, but please have mercy." "She's lying," Stok said. "We caught her rummaging through the bilge deck cargo space cutting common packages open." "Did she discover anything?' Grud asked. "I don't think so," Stok said. But it's hard to tell."

Grud threw the knotted rope to Stok. "Lash her until she talks," he said "but don't kill her. Not yet. Lash her body in all the places you have to." He ripped away Michelle's red miniskirt leaving her hanging there in her sheer brief bikini panties. Stok's small pig-like eyes glowed with pleasure and lust as he ripped apart Michelle's panties shredding the last vestige of her virtue. He violently wrenched the torn garment from her nubile body. "And when she talks?"

"Then she's yours." Grud said. "But before you can have her we must find out why she was in the hold, and who sent her aboard the ship." Stok's arm shot back and the vicious rope began again to lacerate Michelle's shoulders and back.

When the girl, at first, only squealed in agony Stok increased the ferocity and the target of his strikes. Putting his entire two-hundred-sixty pounds behind each swing of the rope which tore apart her breasts, stomach, and thighs mutilating her flawless flesh. The blood flecked girl was never quiet, whimpering and moaning softly, swaying with the roll of the small freighters deck. Then came the whooshing swish of the tarred rope.

The scream that followed was right out of hell. The awful sound of soft feminine flesh being ravaged by a ragged rock hard ball of tar echoed far into the night. Each plaintive splat was punctuated by Michelle's agonized wail of pain and terror. The bloody torture continued far too long before the girl could withstand no more. "Oh please in the name of God, please stop! I will tell you what you want to know." The battered girl sputtered. Stok struck the girl again while the helpless girl wailed in anguish. "Talk now you little cur, before your body is too gashed apart to be worthy of my prick," the giant harangued.

The wind swept sea sprayed across her writhing body as the pained girl tried the pull air into her lungs. Michelle's tear filled eyes looked wildly around the deck, searching vainly for a savior. Her pleading scream brought an unlikely champion. Out of the darkness strodeGrud, he carried a three pronged grappling hook in one hand and an evil grin that spread across his face. "Hold now Stok. The bitch wants to talk. "Speak little one or I will give you to Stok now to use for his own sordid pleasure," the old captain growled. "You will wish even more for death by the time old Stok is through with you."

The dark haired girl choked back a sob as she began to tell her story. For several minutes the two men listened in silence as Michelle revealed how she and her friend had stolen aboard the old scow a day earlier in search of illegal drugs. She said that the two girls had met several men in a bar in Santa Marta two nights earlier. The un-named men had told the girls of their scheme to burgle the old ship before it left port. The girls had planned to beat the men to the drugs by snatching them from the ship before the men had a chance to steal them.

What the girls did not know was that they were being set up by the men in the bar. The men had already burgled the ship that same night so that when the girls snuck aboard the next day the booty was already taken and replaced with sacks of fine sand and talc.

Within two hours of the girls coming aboard, the freighter left port. For the rest of the day the young women were able to stay hidden below deck waiting for some chance to depart the ship at its next port of call. Stok's luck at finding the dark haired beauty was a bit of bad luck for their plan. Michelle had been spotted hiding in a bilge deck storeroom.

Grud stopped the lissome brunette in mid-sentence ordering Stok and several of his men to search below deck find the other girl and bring her up to the fore-deck. In minutes the men returned their prize. In the cook's cabin Stok had discovered Michelle's blonde friend Denise hidden in a corner wall locker.

Denise fought and scratched at the giant as he pulled her out of the locker. One huge hand wrapped tightly around her slender neck choking off her airway while the other hand busied itself exploring the girl's exquisitely shapely body. Denise was at his mercy while he pinched and groped to his heart's content. He would have raped the little blonde right there were it not for Grud calling out his name.

"Stok, get your ass up here now. You can play with your toys after we find out what they know!" the cadaverous captain boomed. A few seconds later Stok emerged from the hold. He held a small blonde girl by the hair. Her light blue blouse had been ripped open down the front. She wore white shorts and pale pink tennis shoes, her callously tousled blonde hair fell past her thin shoulders. Upon seeing her battered friend hanging naked from the yardarm Denise let out a shriek. "No! No! You mustn't hurt her. She is not responsible for being on board the ship. My friend is innocent, you must believe that!" the pretty blonde wailed.

"Give her to the crew to hold, Stok" ordered the Captain. "Go back down below and investigate the Opium stash while I entertain the stowaways." Grumbling beneath his breath Stock shoved the half dressed blonde into the arms of two sailors. Denise writhed in their grasp while Stok disappeared into the hold.

"So little blonde girl you and your friend are innocent of illegally coming aboard this fine vessel." "How can that be?" Captain Grud approached the small girl menacingly as he stated his query. Denise backed herself deeper into the arms of the crewmen holding her, her eyes fixated on the grappling hook that he held threateningly. "We didn't mean any harm," the blonde lied, not knowing that Michelle had told a different tale. "What did ye mean to do little one?" Grud grinned as he moved even closer to the trembling girl. "Tell me afore I use this here hook to catch me a thief."

"No! No! That is wrong, we meant no harm, you must believe meeeeeee!" Denise screamed as Grud grapple hooked the front of her blue shorts grazing her soft lower belly in the process. Deftly the Captain twisted the hook, tearing apart the tight fitting fabric, shredding and pulling away her shorts in the process.

Denise writhed in the grip of the crewmen, her torn shorts clinging to her knees as her legs flailed about. Grud reached between the blonde girl's thighs his fingers grabbing the crotch of her pink panties. With a violent tug the captain ripped the fragile lace from her genitals. "Ahhhh, you beast!" screamed Denise. Why are you doing this? I am not lying! I have told you everything I know!"

Grud was not impressed, bringing the pronged grapple once more before her eyes. "You have seen how the sharp hooks on this tool can be used to undress you." With a quick flip Grud snagged the side of her light blue blouse where it brushed against her globular breast. Lifting the grapple quickly he yanked what remained of the split open blouse from her body. The crewmen completed her strip tease as she fought in their tight grasp.

"There are many places on your lovely naked body this tool can slam into. I'll give you a moment to reconsider your story before I show you what the tool can do." Grud snarled. "What do you want me to tell you! Please, we meant no harm coming aboard..." the blonde blurted before she was interrupted by a cry from Michelle. "Tell them the truth Denise, they are merciless honey. Give them the story about the bar, please, before it is too late... Grud savagely reached over and back-handed the dark-haired girl. Michelle trailed off in a choked sob of fear and pain.

"So there is a different story, you choose to lie to me." Grud growled as he moved close to the blonde girl. The grapple hook was now held low its third hook pointed between the sweating girl's thighs. "Wait. Wait. Please." Denise sobbed. "Yes there is another story, there was a bar..." the girl stared to explain when from below deck burst Stok.

"Cap'n, the opium powder is gone, " gasped the giant bos'n. "I checked the hold and saw that the sacks was all there but they was stacked kinda strange. I pulled a sack down from the pile and poked it with me knife to check the fillings. And this is what I found in the sack." Stok handed the captain a handful of a grainy white powder.

Grud stuck his nose into the powder sucking a bit of the material into his lungs. A sudden fit of coughing overcame the captain. He regained his composure quickly glaring intently at Denise and then at Michelle. "That wasn't opium! Where is the opium? he screamed. "You both lied to me. Now I will find out the real truth from each of you. You will get no relief from my vengeance until you have told me the truth and the location of the opium."

"Stok, take the blonde bitch below deck and see to it she finds out what it means to lie to me. Use your rope flog as you did with the dark haired girl. "Flog her until she tells the truth," he said "but stop short of killing her. Plunder her body and cause her to beg for mercy. When both women have talked I will give what's left of them to you and the crew to ravage and split into pieces.

Grud knew that he had to be remorseless with the girls. These little cunts were worth a lot of money to him but he had to determine what they knew. That meant they would have to be kept alive, at least until they gave in to his demands. And if they couldn't be made to talk he would see to it that they would suffer a cold-blooded form of sadism and revenge.

More than a bit confused about her circumstances Denise wasn't about to give up and go quietly to whatever fate awaited her. While the wind and sea bucked the fore-deck noticeably the pretty blonde wrestled in the arms of the two crewmen until she managed to break free. The captain had stepped away from her to hear Stok's report and test the powder. In the instant Denise tore away from the crew she ran across the swaying deck toward where Michelle was dangling. "Please, I Beg of you, don't torture my friend any more. I'll confess to everything, yes, yes! Is that is what you want me to say? Okay, I confess! Now, you can show mercy to my misguided friend!" the defiant girl shouted.

Michelle looked across the deck at her friend quizzically, not understanding what Denise was trying to say. The blonde girl had nearly reached her when she was tackled and seized by several of the crewmen. The men pulled her to her feet, while her arms were seized behind her back. Her eyes filled with tears while the crewmen gawked at her beauty. Denise was one of those lithe, slim women who, even when standing upright, with knees together, still had a small gap visible in the crotch, and that enticingly narrow area was thinly carpeted with fine blond hair.

Stok was enjoying the sight of her constrained body, pondering her audacious shouting and clambering as he rushed across the deck. Malevolently he moved his enormous bulk in close to the girl. Then suddenly with a powerful backhand he silenced the tempestuous girl with one punch. Her head twisted to the side with the force of the blow sending her yellow hair flowing in a wide arc that when it crossed her face obscured a bruised cheek and smashed lip. Her body sagged as her knees buckled, remaining upright only by the efforts of the crewmen holding her arms.

She was to be his now and Stok wrenched her limp body from the crewmen. This was a young woman who would not leave the ship without first enduring the wrath of Stok's tar tipped rope. He carried her unconscious form to the hatch leading down into the ship, admiring her petite beauty, as she lay unconscious in his arms. Her long hair fell over her face as he lifted her up, and haphazardly folded her over his shoulder.

Michelle pleaded with the huge man as he carried Denise away, "Please, no, no. Didn't your hear her she wants to confess. Leave her alone, please don't hurt us anymore!" Her cry went unattended as Stok and seven of the crew disappeared below deck. The dark haired girl would have her own problems soon enough. In the face of the increasing wind gusts and heavy sea Captain Grud and the remaining seven crewmen set about deploying the small freighter's sea anchor to slow the vessel's drift. Then they closed in around Michelle at the front deck hold.