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Pony Girls Anon by Terry Wakelin

EXTRACT FOR
Pony Girls Anon 
(Terry Wakelin)


PONY GIRLS ANON

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Sir Hugo Manderlay should have been a chastened man but, as anyone who has studied human history will tell you, it is rather difficult to depress for long the Manderlays of this world, and in fact, Sir Hugo was fast recovering from one of the severest setbacks which had occurred in his somewhat dingy career.  Briefly, dear reader, what had happened was this.

Some twelve months previously (at the urgent, even pressing, request of the U.S. Government) he had returned from America to England after the somewhat unfortunate termination to an affair with a young girl that had ended with her being found drowned in the Hudson River.  Nothing could be proved but, even so, Sir Hugo was unofficially declared ‘persona non grata’ and persuaded to leave.  His work in America had been in the nature of a ‘contact man’, he had bought and sold patent rights, processing techniques and the like throughout the war.  The mud and blood of Flanders, and the senseless, useless killing had completely passed him by and, in doing his useful work, he’d made a very considerable fortune for himself at the same time as earning a very bad reputation concerning his sexual tastes.

On his arrival back in England he had managed to acquire for himself a title and, later, an ocean-going motor yacht to go with it.  He named the yacht himself.  He called her the ‘RESTRAINT’.  She was fitted out in a suitable manner for the pursuit of his own marked tendency towards the bizarre.  In fact, one might almost epitomise the general layout as being a carefully designed altar dedicated to the worship of whip and spur.

When all the strange and curious alterations had been made and a discreet crew engaged under the leadership of a renegade captain called Jack Magee, the enterprise needed but one thing to bring to vibrant reality the careful plans of its owner.  The ‘RESTRAINT’ needed a complement of carefully chosen guests for its first cruise.

With patience Hugo assembled a number of guests.  In most cases he invited men among his acquaintance who, in turn, could usually be relied upon to supply one or more women of a like turn of taste.  One thing distinguished this illustrious company from the average.  With few exceptions among the women, they were as depraved and as dissolute a gathering as could be mustered in a day’s sweep of the salons of Mayfair.  The cruise was an absolute success until, in Cannes, Sir Hugo met a notorious girl of Arab extraction, daughter of a powerful man in the Algerian government, a man who was wealthy even by Hugo’s standards.  The girl’s name was the Princess Shalimar al Fuad.  Rich, vicious, sensual, voluptuous, she was famous throughout Europe and Africa for her passion for the bizarre and erotic.  More by accident than design, Hugo fell foul of her but even so, furious at his insulting and contemptuous treatment of her, she determined to teach him a lesson.  Two days out of Cannes, his yacht was overtaken by Shalimar’s.  In the brief engagement, however, things went against the lovely Arab girl and she found herself Hugo’s prisoner.  His public humiliation and sexual abuse of her had, in fact, proved to be one of the highlights of the cruise.

Turn and turn about, though, and a few days later the two yachts met again and this time it was Hugo’s turn to lose the engagement.  Under the threat of a superior show of force, he grudgingly allowed Shalimar to return to her yacht and, something which was just as humiliating and grievous a loss, she took all his female guests with her as prisoners.

It was not until two weeks later that the ‘RESTRAINT’ tied up again in a quiet mooring on the upper Thames.  The disconsolate men guests had dispersed at Gravesend leaving Hugo, Magee and the crew to work the boat up river.

“Well,” said Magee, gloomily, “I suppose the fireworks will start any time now.”

They were in Hugo’s cabin.

“What the hell d’you mean?” snapped Hugo, taking a long pull from a whisky and soda.

“You don’t seriously mean to tell me that those women can just disappear without someone causing a heck of a stink about it, do you?”

“They HAVE just disappeared.  What the devil can we do about it?  For that matter, what could we have done to stop that bloody bitch doing what she did?  It’s not our fault.”

“It might NOT be our fault that we were pirated, although that it a matter for conjecture, but it most definitely IS our fault that we never reported it.  That’s a crime in itself.  I told you at the time that the matter should have been reported immediately to the French authorities ... if only to cover ourselves.”

“Very nice,” snarled Hugo.  “Very nice to rush along to the French police and complain that a gang of women we’d been using for an orgy had been pinched from us by pirates.  Hell man ... d’you really think that it’s to our advantage that those damned bitches are ever seen again?  Don’t forget, they’d have a pretty story to tell ... and some stripes on their bottoms, and other places, to back up their stories.”

Magee looked at the yacht owner curiously.

“But wouldn’t that point have arisen anyway?” he asked, fingering the long scar on his cheek.

“What d’you mean?”

“Well ... if they hadn’t been pirated away from us, wouldn’t they still have opened their mouths the minute we came back to England?”

Hugo smiled.  “Perhaps there might have been some, if not all, who wouldn’t have returned to England,” he replied shortly.

“What would have happened to them?”

“Oh, they might well have been mislaid somewhere in Morocco.  They’d have been quite welcome in the harem of as Arab friend of mine.  He’s very partial to white skinned women.”

“I believe that could be called a spot of ‘White Slavery’,” remarked Magee.

“You can call it what you like,” commented Hugo.  “But the fact remains that, although there were a couple who might have been persuaded to keep quiet with a bit of cash, I most certainly wouldn’t have chanced bringing any back here who might have been impudently resentful of the uses to which we’d put them.”

Magee smiled.  “I’d often wondered how you were going to see to it they kept their mouths shut.”

Hugo Manderlay gave the man a hard stare.  “Don’t for Christ’s sake tell me that you would have had any scruples as to what happened to them.  If I recall correctly, you yourself were mixed up in a spot of the old White Slavery a just few years ago.  In fact, I think you even saw the inside of a prison because of it.  Isn’t that right?”

The smile faded from Magee’s face.

“I haven’t said I’d have worried about what might have happened to them.”

“That’s just as well,” remarked Hugo, sipping the last of his scotch.  “I’d hate to think of you having any compunctions ..... any compunctions about anything.”

“I’m paid to do as I’m told,” said Magee, “and I’m paid well enough to do things that aren’t in the ordinary run of instructions from Master to Skipper.  There’s one other thing, though.  Something that, perhaps, you’ve forgotten.”

“I doubt it, but go on,” said Manderlay.

“What about the men you invited on the trip?  Can you rely on their discretion?”

“I imagine their discretion to be directly proportionate to the value they put on their skins,” replied Hugo.  “If there’s any trouble, they’re in it as deeply as we are.”

“QUITE as deeply?” asked Magee.

“Deeply enough, anyway.  But I agree that it could be a problem.  I have, however, taken a few precautions to ensure their silence.”

“Such as?” asked Magee.

Hugo Manderlay regarded the nails on his long, slender hand.

“A lot of our ... well, shall we call them frolics? ... were observed and recorded on my behalf by a movie camera set in the wall of the forward saloon.”

He put his hand in his pocket and took out a bunch of keys, selecting one and handing the bunch to Magee.

“Open the safe and bring me the three film tins you’ll find there!”

Magee took the keys and went to the round wall safe in Restraint’s port cabin wall.  He opened the safe and took out three round tins of 16 mm film.  He walked over to Sir Hugo and handed him the tins in silence.

Hugo weighed them in his hand and a smile curled his thin lips.

“Yes,” he said.  “Our insurance against imprudent and thoughtless reminiscences.  I’ve brought these back here to have them developed and printed because I know a man ...”

“You always know a man,” smiled Magee.

“I can usually think of one,” agreed Hugo.  “Anyway, this man is discreet and technically capable and, when he’s done this little job for me, I don’t think it would be advisable for any of our guests to talk out of turn.  When the films are ready I shall invite them all along to see them.  I can’t think of anyone offhand who didn’t have a part in our festivities, can you?”

“No,” admitted Magee, “can’t say I can.”

“So I believe that covers all the possibilities.  But now to more practical things.  I believe I made it quite clear to everyone that this matter does NOT rest here.”

“You mean you intend trying to get your own back on Shalimar?” asked Magee.

“I intend to GET my own back, as you call it,” said Hugo, “I don’t just intend to TRY.”

Magee nodded.  “Mind if I have a drink?  I think this is going to be interesting.”

“Help yourself!” said Hugo.  “Yes ... I believe you’re right.  It WILL be interesting.”

Magee poured himself a whisky and siphoned some soda into it.  He walked over to a chair and settled himself down.

“And just how to you intend to accomplish this revenge?” he asked.  “The forces ranged against you are rather formidable, you know.  Shalimar is anything up to a thousand miles from here.  She’s near her own country.  She’s got the money to command one of the worst crews of cut-throats I’ve ever seen and, above all, you’ve still got to find her.”

“I’ll answer your last difficulty first.  Shalimar isn’t the kind of girl who can quietly disappear.  I’ll guarantee to trace her without leaving this cabin.  That she may be TWO thousand miles away, doesn’t worry me a damn.  I’ve still got this tub and, after I’ve had a few alterations made, there’s nowhere she can go that I can’t follow in the ‘RESTRAINT’.

“You’re having alterations made to the yacht?”

“I most certainly am.”

“What kind of alterations?”

“The only ones to concern you are to do with the engines.  I want the ‘RESTRAINT’ to be capable of outsteaming Shalimar’s yacht.”

“Or showing it a clean pair of heels,” remarked Magee.

“That won’t be necessary.  Which brings me to your other point.  Shalimar’s crew are certainly a tough bunch, but if you can’t recruit a tougher crew right here in England, then my faith in your abilities will begin to evaporate.”

“Of course I can do that,” said Magee.  “But don’t forget!  We have to have toughness ... and discretion as well.  Those two virtues together can cost plenty.”

“Money is no object,” said Hugo, briefly.

“Does that apply to the improvement to the engines?  They’ll cost a pretty penny.”

“I’ll catch up with that bitch if it costs me ten thousand pounds,” ground out Hugo, his dark eyes flashing.  “I’ll have her in my power again if it’s the last thing I ever do.  When I think of what I’ll do to her when I get my hands on her ... my God!”  He got up to pace the cabin like a caged tiger.  Magee watched him with an amused expression on his face.

“I’ll have her stripped and tied to the forward mast and lay a whip across her rear end until the skin peels off ... I’ll whip her until she cringes like a whelping bitch.  And when I’ve finished with her, I’ll have her fucked by every one of the crew and any other ruffians who fancy her.  Crew.... yes, that’s the next move.  How long will it take you to reinforce this crew?  The lads we’ve already got are alright, but we want more ... and the roughest you can get hold of.  How long?”