Chapter 2. To the island
To the casual observer, Jim did not appear a wealthy man. His waterproof
camouflage suit was well worn and covered an equally well worn pair of trousers
and an old fisherman's type jersey. In fact this appearance was very misleading.
Jim was a major shareholder in a large technological pharmaceutical company with
a weekly income more than the average worker earned in a year. On his beloved
Sula he had little to spend it on except the high tech recording equipment and
microscopes needed for his marine biology hobby. At 32 Jim was somewhat of a
recluse. Few visited the island and any necessary business was conducted at the
Tarpin hotel.
It hadn't been a very successful Tuesday for him either. The weather had limited
the seal filming he wanted to do to almost nil. Now with the wind and rain
increasing, the light fading he locked the hut near the beach in which he stored
his hide equipment ready to return to the small motor boat, "Gannet" moored at
the small jetty. A sharp neigh caused him to look up. There, coming down the
slippery path was the McCraig girl. Jim had met her on two occasions and both
times she had treated him like dirt.
Concentrating on controlling the horse, she hadn't seen him. A flash of
lightening, the horse reared and she was on her back sliding helplessly towards
him. The effect was comical. Sally, legs and arms in the air, slithering first
one way then the other in the mud and water until stopped by the shingle beach.
Victor still spooked by the lightening, managed to keep his footing, turned and
headed riderless back the way he had come.
Amused by her entrance, Jim greeted her, he thought pleasantly enough. The slash
came as be stooped to help the girl to her feet. The explosive pain, the shock
knocked him back for a few seconds. Sally sat there motionless, mouth open at
the horror of what she had done. When Jim grabbed the whip she fully expected he
would beat her. That would have been her immediate reaction. Instead he threw
the whip away. What did he intend?
Sally mumbled half under her breath, an apology. She was not used to apologising
to anyone so the words came out with difficulty and were lost in the wind. Jim's
threat, "You will pay for this tenfold bitch," spoken quietly came through
clearly to her brain.
"I'm .... er ....sorry," she mumbled again, "I hate people shortening my name to
Sal." She added as if to mitigate her action.
"So how many others have a whiplash across their face for that reason?" enquired
Jim in an icy tone.
"I've ... never done that before to .... anyone," Sally stuttered. "I'm sorry,"
she repeated a little more loudly this time.
"Well it certainly isn't the best way to win friends or influence people," Jim
barked, "Think yourself lucky. Its getting dark and the wind's getting up so I
must get going,.and won't have time to deal with you." Jim stroked his sore face
and started towards the "Gannet" picking up the riding crop on the way and
throwing it into the cockpit of the boat.
"You aren't just going to leave me here are you?" Sally cried beginning at last
to see her desperate situation. "Take me to Bencarran in your boat. Please," she
added as an afterthought.
"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't in this weather. Once we got out of the lee of
Sula and around the headland the seas would swamp the boat. Just getting to Sula
will be bad enough."
"Take me to Tarpin then."
"Far too dangerous to try and get round the rocks in the dark."
Sally suddenly began to realise the seriousness of her position. She was
stranded here with the man she had struck and whose face was now lopsidedly
swollen with one eye partially closed giving him a very mean appearance.
Jim spoke. "Sal," he deliberately used the name she disliked so much, "As I see
it, you have three choices. One. To stay here for the night." Cold and wet
through as she was this was not a real option. "Two. Walk back to Bencarran."
With the main path cut by the swollen river, the only way was the coastal path a
distance of twenty four miles. Not an easy route in good weather and in
daylight. In today's conditions and wearing riding boots with smooth soles again
that was not a real option. "It is possible that when and if Victor arrives back
they will send a search party to look for you."
Sally thought this too was a very dubious option. She had started out in the
opposite direction and was seen by two crofters. No one saw her turn and head
westwards. Any search would be in the Tarpin direction.
"The third option is to come with me to Sula," Jim continued. "But in view of
your behaviour I am attaching a couple of conditions to that option. The first
is to accept your punishment for this vicious attack and secondly you stay for a
week as my personal live in maid."
Sally looked dumbfounded. Surely he couldn't expect her to agree to those terms.
Could he? She surprised herself by asking if he expected her to sleep with him.
Deliberately using the most direct terms he said, "Will I will fuck you? Yes,
indeed I will. Let there be no mistake about that."
"That's rape."
If you agree to come with me, then you agree to sex. If you agree then it is not
rape."
While there is certain amount of logic in the argument, Sally doubted it's
courtroom validity. She wondered what would happen if she said "No" after
arriving on the island.
"Well, the choice is yours. Either stay here and try and make your own way back
in the wet and cold and dark or accept my terms. Take your punishment and become
my maid for one week." Jim paused and then spoke again, "But you have only a few
minutes to make up your mind. Once I cast off from the jetty, in this wind and
sea I could not safely return. If you wish to come to Sula get on the boat now
or in the few minutes before I cast off."
Jim climbed aboard the "Gannet" and started the engine. Sally's mind was full of
questions, uncertainties and apprehensions. How would he punish her? Would he
really fuck her? Would he really keep her for a whole week and set her doing
menial tasks? How could she agree to those terms? Equally though, how could she
not agree to them? Staying was not an option, that was almost certain death.
Perhaps she could find a way around his conditions after they arrived at his
home.
Sally heard the engine kick into life. Saw Jim go forward to cast off the bow
line. With micro seconds to spare she shouted, "I'm coming! Wait for me
bastard!"
Sally sat in the partial shelter of the wheelhouse while Jim kept the "Gannet"
more or less head on to the waves. The sea was rougher than he anticipated from
the shore and the bow continually lifted from the water at the crest of a wave
to crash down again with a tremendous thump which resounded through the steel
built hull. In what seemed like a slight lull in the wind, Jim pulled his life
jacket from the cockpit locker and made Sally wear it. He realised he should
wear one too but the spare was in the forward locker. Telling Sally to hold the
wheel and to keep the heading just slightly south of west, he went below. It
took a short while to find and don the spare but in that short time Sally
resolved to turn the boat and head for Bencarran.
It was a foolish move. No sooner had she spun the wheel than a wave caught the
boat broadside on, tilting it to forty five degrees or more. Sally was thrown
off her feet into the after corner of the cockpit. Jim just about to emerge from
the hatchway, still had a firm grip on the stantions but never-the-less still
hit a bulkhead with some force. The "Gannet" very slowly righted herself but
shipped a lot of water before she did so. Fortunately the cockpit had a self
bailing system so the water slowly drained back to the sea. Jim leapt to the
wheel but before he could get his craft back to its proper heading the next
broadside wave hit. Again the boat tilted precariously near capsize. Water
poured over the gunnel lifting Sally and sweeping her overboard. Her cry went
unnoticed in the roar of the wind and water.
Before the next wave hit, Jim had managed to get the boat under control and was
about to gun the engine when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a bright
red lifejacket not inside the boat but rapidly drifting astern. Sally was only
visible for a second or two when both she and the boat crested a wave.
Jim slowed the engine to ticking over speed, just enough power to have keep
steerage way and the bow heading into the wind. With more windage than Sally,
the boat was blown slowly astern and the gap between the two closed. In the half
light it took all of Jim's seamanship skills to manoeuvre his craft close to the
girl. As the gap narrowed he held out a boat hook but Sally was too cold and
numb to grab. The boat slipped sideways and the gap opened again. When the two
closed Jim caught the hook in her lifejacket and dragged her to the side. She
was going to be extremely heavy to lift aboard but fate this time did lend a
hand. Having no one at the wheel the "Gannet" veered off the wind, wallowed and
tilted in a trough causing an further inrush of water into the boat and Sally
with it.
She lay where the water dumped her. Jim opened the throttle, set the heading for
Sula and warily fastened a loop over the wheel spoke. Pausing for only a few
moments to see if the boat maintained the correct heading, he half dragged, half
helped Sally into the cabin, sat her alongside the engine which was the warmest
place and covered her with an old blanket.
For the next half an hour his attention was devoted to getting the "Gannet" to
Sula in the shortest time. It was almost dark when they reached the slipway.
With practised ease he soon had the boat in its mooring cradle and hauled up the
slipway into the boat shed by the motorised winch.
Sally had hardly moved. Jim roused her, helped her on to the quayside before
returning to lock away his filming gear. Normally he would have taken it to the
house but he too was soaking wet and cold. He was about to jump from the cockpit
when he spied the riding crop, remarkably still hooked into the nook he had
placed. Tucking it under his arm, he helped Sally along the shingle path into
the house.
The house was larger than most typical crofters cottages but was still stone
built with thick walls and small windows. Only one storey high, it sat snug to
the ground. Gale force winds would pass over it without inflicting any damage to
the structure.
Even with Jim's supporting arm around her, Sally shivered almost uncontrollably.
A wisp of smoke from the chimney caught her eye. She prayed it was warm inside.
And indeed it was. Jim had backed the fire with peat before leaving and had shut
the dampers. Now he opened them, added more peat and soon the fire was roaring
away.
"Get those wet clothes off, Sal." He went into a side room which Sally found
later to be the bathroom and brought a Terry cloth dressing gown and two towels.
Sally's fingers were numb and her efforts to remove the lifejacket and outer
clothing were not having any effect. Jim came to her assistance while at the
same time starting to remove his own wet clothing. Outer garments were spread
around chairs to drip and dry, sweaters, shirts and trousers were hung over the
drying horse hanging from the ceiling.
Sally's shivering had abated somewhat now she was feeling the warmth from the
hearth. "How much further is he going?" she thought. In a futile effort to save
her modesty she tried to hold her hands across her breasts but she felt so tired
and her arms heavy, it was only seconds before they dropped to her side. Without
a pause, Jim removed her bra and knickers noting as he did so that she was
wearing a panty liner. These too were draped over the drying rails along with
his underpants.
Both now naked, Jim gave Sally a towel and proceeded to dry her back vigorously.
Starting at the neck her worked down the back, reaching her armpits he worked
under the arms and cupping Sally's breasts began rubbing them also.
"Don't! Don't touch me," Sally stuttered. "I'm not a whore."
"Maybe not but you are now my personal live in maid, Sal, and as such I will rub
you wherever I wish, whenever and however I wish for the next week," growled
Jim. "You've caused more than enough trouble already. You must to learn to do
what you are told. So far today, you have nearly killed yourself twice and me
once. This week you are going to learn to do exactly as you are told!"
"Bastard! You forced me into this!"
"No," replied Jim, "You brought this on yourself as my face will testify." He
continued rubbing down Sally's body paying particular attention to the area
between her legs giving scant attention to her pathetic pleas "Nooo, don't." It
had been some years since any man had touched her there. Sally wanted to slap
his face again or kick his cock as it bobbed in her vision but felt too weak
from her ordeal and uncertain as to what he would do to her in return. For some
reason his quiet, cold commands held more power over her than her blustering
father's shouted orders. She wasn't able to exert any control over him.
Satisfied she was dry, Jim finished his inspection of her body. She was quite
tall, mousy haired and had fairly small breasts. He passed her the Terry robe
and finished drying himself in front of her. She had to stand and watch,
embarrassed and blushing at the sight of his well endowed cock swinging with his
movements. After its cold spell, warm blood was returning and the shaft started
to stiffen.
Jim went to the airing cupboard and returned wearing an old dressing gown. He
slipped his feet into a pair of slippers that were warming under the hearth
realised that Sally was still barefoot and would soon be feeling the cold of the
stone floor. He found an old pair of moccasins, too big but the lacing might
just pull them tight enough to stay on her feet. The fur lining would keep the
chill away.
Dry now, Sally began to take notice of her surroundings. It was a typical
cottage room with black metal stove, on which she could now smell a stew of some
sort cooking. A cluttered table stood in the middle of the floor with four
wooden chairs three of which were covered in books and papers, a sideboard
against one wall. Two armchairs were arranged by the fireside only one was free
of paper and video tapes. A settee matching the chairs stood along one wall.
Again it was covered with paper and other items. It seemed every available space
elsewhere, was filled with boat bits, video items and innumerable pieces of what
could only be termed 'junk'. Jim clearly didn't expect visitors.
Jim gathered the items from the second armchair and dumped them on the floor to
clear a space for Sally to sit. He went to a side room and Sally heard him pee.
"The loo is in there, when you want to use it" He indicated the open door. Sally
was near bursting. She soon found why he didn't close the door. One hinge was
broken and the door propped up on a wedge. "Sorry about the door," he called, "I
was going to fix it one of these days."
Sally heard a clattering of pans on the stove, realised Jim wasn't watching her
and relieved herself. Returning she saw the kettle was boiling and Jim was
making mugs of tea. At Bencarran she would never accepted tea in anything but a
china cup complete with saucer, here she accepted the mug almost gratefully.
"You better phone your father to let him know you are safe." Jim moved a picture
aside, revealing a combination lock wall safe. Opening it he removed a key and
used it to open another door in the room. "Odd,." thought Sally, "Why such
security?" The room, originally a second bedroom, was full of high tech video
editing and computer equipment.
"Ian McCraig."
"Jim Carruthers. Just phoning to let you know your daughter is safe and is
staying with me on Sula."
"How? Why? Is she alright? Let me talk to her."
"One question at a time and its too long a story but she is fine, a couple of
small bruises, that's all. She has agreed to stay here for a week to train as a
maid. That will give you a breathing space at Bencarran."
"I don't believe it," spluttered Ian McCraig, "Let me talk to her."
Jim handed Sally the phone and left the room. "You have five minutes," he said,
"Then you can set the table for dinner." He didn't cover the mouthpiece when he
gave her the instruction so her father heard it as well.
From his position at the stove Jim could tell Sally was a little flustered. Her
comments were brief, loud and had a bitter edge to them. She finished with, "No
you don't. I can bloody well look after myself!" Half a minute later she put the
phone down.
"Everything okay?" Jim enquired. Sally turned to glare at him but just looking
at his swollen face and closed eye shocked her into silence. "Victor just
arrived home. They were going to send out search parties then he wanted to
scramble a rescue helicopter to bring me back ...."
"That's when you said you could look after yourself," Jim finished for her, "You
may not think that a wise decision later. I promised you a tenfold punishment
and that you will get."
