Pat Savage in 'Bronze Lust' Ch. 7

Chapter Seven: The Arrival

Exhausted from her ordeal of the previous night, Pat slept through most of the next day. Her captors woke the violated young woman up at some point in the afternoon, to feed her and Dr. Murray. She had to endure their cruel taunts of whether she preferred the diet that afternoon, or the meat they had fed her the previous night. Pat could feel her skin flush crimson with shame, as she remembered the events that had just transpired, how she had been taken repeatedly, and how her oversexed body had responded to this treatment by having orgasm after orgasm. The proof of her debauchery was plain for her to see--dried white cum lay crusted on her body, matting her bronze bush and long hair, coating her nipples and cheeks.

The meal was surprisingly good, although considering how long it had been since she'd last eaten and after what she'd been through, almost anything would have been edible. Asking for clothing when the meal was done, Cartwright just laughed at her.

"No, no, I much prefer to see you like this, my dear," came the reply. "Time enough when our friends arrive to attire you. And anyway, I think the doctor likes to see you like this as well...am I right, Dr. Murray?"

The elderly doctor sputtered with indignation. "You cur!" he shouted. "Have you no decency? Do with me what you will, but leave the young lady alone!" Inwardly, Dr. Murray cringed. He knew that part of his vehemence was due to the fact that, despite himself, he had been stealing glances at Pat's nude, nubile form all day and notwithstanding his age and their situation, had found himself getting aroused. She was the most perfect specimen of womanhood he had ever seen and he couldn't help thinking about what she would be like to physically possess.

"Very gallant, Doctor," replied Cartwright sarcastically. "However, I'm not planning on doing anything more to either of you...other than turning you over to my European friends, of course. What happens to you in their hands, I can't be responsible for. I would, however, advise both of you to get what rest you can this afternoon. I don't think either of you will be resting too well on the long trip under the sea!"

Turning, the gang leader strode from the room, followed by his lackeys. The door shut behind them, leaving the woman of bronze and Doctor Murray alone once more. Pat didn't dwell on the thought of the ocean voyage which seemed imminent. If she were loaded on that submarine, the treatment she had gone through the night before would pale by comparison; her body would be violated hundreds of times by men who hadn't seen a woman in months, and who viewed her only as a handy vehicle on which to vent their lusts.. It wasn't something she wanted to think about. Though the situation was grim, Pat had the spirit of the Savages, the same spirit which had made her cousin the greatest man of his day. It was also, she recognized, the same spirit which had gotten her into this mess in the first place. However, just as she had gotten herself into it, she could get herself out of it, and she refused to give up hope.

"Hang in there, Dr. Murray," she said, trying to boost his spirits and bolster her own. "It's not over yet. We're going to find a way to get out of this jam, just you see."

Pat pulled and tugged at her bonds, trying to loosen them just the least little bit. Her exertions caused her golden globes to jiggle enticingly up and down, crinkled coral tips waving before her. The room, while not cold, was cool, and her nipples jutted out, seeming to be permanently erect. Caught up in trying to free herself, Pat didn't notice, but Dr. Murray did. For a moment he stared, slackjawed, at the firm twin mounds displayed before him, before he caught himself. Turning a deep scarlet, he averted his eyes, glad that Pat hadn't noticed him staring, but he couldn't help himself from sneaking covert glances at the bronzed beauty as she struggled to work herself free.

"I...I...I've been trying to free myself all night," he stammered. "It's no use. I'm all done in."

Not willing to give up, Pat strained at the ropes, pitting her strength and knowledge of rope tying against them. Although they didn't practice it regularly, she and Monk were into an occasional bit of bondage, and the young woman was fully familiar with every sort of knot and how to tie someone in order to leave them helpless. Even putting this knowledge to use, however, finally Pat slumped back, exhausted. She was forced to agree with her fellow prisoner. Though her body was now slick with perspiration from her efforts, whoever had tied her bonds knew what they were doing. No amount of work by her was going to set her free.

"You're right," she admitted. "I'm trussed up too well to get loose. But at some point tonight, they're going to untie us and take us outside. We'll be guarded, but that's going to be our chance to make a break for it. I'm going to get some more rest and you should sleep too, if you can. You're going to need all your strength and you'll need to be alert later on. When we get a chance, we're going to have to jump on it, and jump on it fast. Once we leave this room, keep one eye on me. I'll try to signal you when I see our chance."

Voicing his agreement, Dr. Murray closed his eyes. Though he was thoroughly exhausted, sleep proved elusive. Visions of Pat, naked, parading before him, doing things to him, kept running through his brain. Though he finally nodded off, he slept fitfully, his sleep filled with dreams of the divine young creature that was his fellow prisoner.

For her part, Pat had long ago learned from Doc Savage the secret to falling asleep when desired and soon dozed off.

The bronzed woman awoke some time later as the door to the office opened. Carlos, knife in hand, and a few of Cartwright's men entered. "It is time, senorita," he smiled, as he moved behind her. His blade flashed, and the ropes fell from her body. Pat gasped in pain, as the sudden flow of blood that had been partially cut off to her limbs resumed. She rose shakily to her feet, rubbing her arms and thighs, body prickling and tingling, weaving unsteadily while her circulation got back to normal. Though she was clearly not at full speed, the respect the gang members had for her showed as two of them kept her covered with revolvers at all times, giving her no opportunity to try to fight her way out, if she was so inclined.

"Put these on," said one of the gang members, as he threw some old coveralls and boots at her. They were dirty, but Pat didn't demure; they were infinitely better than what she was currently wearing! The men whistled wolfishly as she slipped her long, trim legs into the coveralls.

"I remember you wrappin' those beauties around me! You were beggin' me to fuck you!" called out one of them, to the delight of his fellows.

Pat ignored them and finished getting dressed. Dr. Murray, also free, moved up next to her.

"Both of you--hands behind you!" Carlos ordered. Not liking the odds if she tried anything, Pat obeyed, as did Dr. Murray. Their hands were swiftly bound behind them. Pat noticed that, once her hands were tied, the attention of the two gang members who were covering her with their guns seemed to lessen. Though they were still pointed at her, their attention was focused as intently as before.

"Walk," said Carlos, prodding them forward from behind. The elderly doctor stumbled slightly before catching his balance and Pat smiled at him for encouragement. Leaving the office, they found the warehouse busy with activity, as the gang readied themselves for the arrival of their foreign friends. Pat noted that Cartwright must not have trusted his upcoming visitors completely, as his men were gearing up as if preparing for battle. Looking out the windows, Pat could see only the pitch black of the night. Though she didn't know exactly what time it was, she had always had a good internal clock and guessed that it was coming up on midnight. As she and Dr. Murray stood in the warehouse, guarded by Carlos and a few others, Pat did a few isometric exercises that her cousin had taught her, pitting muscle against muscle, to work the kinks out from having been motionless for so long. When a break came, she intended to be ready.

The door to the outside opened and one of the gang members poked his head in. Looking around for Cartwright, he found him and shouted, "They're almost here! We just spotted them!"

Cartwright nodded, finished speaking to a group of his men. Carrying Doc Savage's equipment vest that he had taken from Pat, the gang leader walked over to where Pat and Murray were standing, as his men began to file silently out of the warehouse.

"Looks like you don't trust your buyers, Cartwright," observed Pat, commenting on the firepower carried by Cartwright's men.

"Oh, I trust them enough," he replied. "But only a fool doesn't take precautions, just in case. However, I have every expectation that things will go according to plan and that, in a very short while, I'll be several million dollars richer, embarking on a life of luxury, while you, my dear, will be embarking on a life on your back."

Pat's gold-flecked eyes flashed. "Pig!" she spat at him. "Selling out your own country, just to line your pockets. Thousands of innocent people--women, children--will die from what you're about to do! And for what? So you can make a few lousy bucks? You make me sick!"

"Well, I may not meet your patriotic ideals but frankly, I couldn't care less," Cartwright admitted. "And unlike the Man of Bronze, who for some reason never seems to want for money, my pockets aren't filled to overflowing with the green stuff. This is my chance to make the big score and I'm not passing it up! My only regret about the whole affair is that I can't keep you around as my playmate, but that would be much too dangerous, with your big, bad cousin running around. He'll doubtless try to find you, and I don't think I'd want to be there if he did. Little chance of that where you're going, however. If it's any consolation, I'm not entirely a monster--I'll always cherish the special moments we shared!"

Pat was furious but restrained herself from lashing out with a hard but shapely heel at Cartwright. If she let herself be goaded into attacking him, she could be knocked out or, at the least, be bound more securely so that escape would be impossible. With only her hands tied, there was a chance, if an opportunity arose.

"Bring them," the gang leader ordered, as he turned and strode out of the warehouse. Prodded by Carlos and his men, Pat and the elderly doctor followed into the black night.

As her eyes adjusted, Pat could see that the sky was clear and free of clouds. Though there was no moon, millions of stars twinkled in the firmament. The calls of wildlife prowling through the woods, seeking a meal or seeking to avoid being a meal, punctuated the night. Spotlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the area between the warehouse and the wharf. As they were marched towards the docks, the light of the stars, reflecting off the inky water, was sufficient for Pat to make out a submarine slowly cruising along the surface of the bay, heading for the wharf where Cartwright and his men awaited. A speedboat was tied to the wooden wharf, bobbing gently in the waves, as the swell caused by the approaching sub slapped against the shore. Glancing from side to side as they walked, Pat was alert for any chance to break free, but none presented itself. Her guards were vigilant and alert. Any hopes she had held of them being lulled by the calm of the night air were apparently not going to be fulfilled.

The young adventuress at first assumed that the speedboat would be used to ferry men to and from the submarine, but as they reached the wharf, she saw that this was not the case. Coming to a stop not far offshore, the hatch on the sub fell open with a metallic "clang!" Men clambered out on deck, merely shapes in the meager light. An inflatable raft was lowered to the water. Crewman climbed down into it, pushed off from the sub and rowed towards shore.

A moment's work brought them to the wharf. Calling down to the boat, some of Cartwright's men grasped a rope that was thrown up to them, securing the small boat to the wharf. A few seconds later men in dark uniforms climbed up from the boat onto the dock. Weapons at their sides or slung over their shoulders, their bearing was arrogant, as they alertly took in Cartwright and his men waiting for them at the end of the dock. Cartwright's men were a gang--the new arrivals were professional killers. Although Cartwright's men outnumbered them, looking at their demeanor as they approached, Pat had a feeling that each one of the submarine's crew was a match for several gang members. Their steps echoed in unison as they stalked across the wooden wharf and came to a halt a few feet in front of where Cartwright, flanked by Pat, Dr. Murray, Carlos and some his men, waited.

Though her coveralls did little to hide her feminine charms--and, in fact, displayed an impressive amount of the bronzed woman's cleavage--only a slight widening of the newcomers' eyes as they observed her indicated that her presence there was a surprise to them.

One of the sub's crew stepped slightly forward. Above a trimmed black mustache, his black eyes took in the sight before him. There was a hint of disdain in his gaze. Staring back at him, Cartwright stiffened at what might be an insult, before relaxing slightly. For the amount of money he was going to receive, he could put up with a little arrogance on the part of his buyer.

"You are Herr Cartwright?" inquired the man with the mustache in clipped tones.

Stepping forward slightly, Cartwright extended his hand. "I am. And you must be Captain Weller. A pleasure to meet you, Captain."

"Ja. The pleasure is mine," replied the U-boat commander as he shook Cartwright's offered hand in a firm grasp. "You have the plans and the doctor?"

"But of course, my dear Captain," responded Cartwright. He pointed to his left. "The elderly gentleman tied up there is Doctor Howard Murray, inventor of the homing device." Murray stood there, looking miserable. "The plans are in the briefcase held by my man next to him. You have the agreed upon payment?"

"Ja," came the reply. Weller motioned at one of his men, who stepped forward with a briefcase. Holding it in front of Cartwright, he snapped it open. Inside were bundles of $100 dollar bills. Without thought, Cartwright exhaled loudly as he viewed the millions that would soon be his.

Cartwright nodded. "Very good, very good, Captain Weller. All that remains is to finish the exchange, and we'll both be on our way, me considerably richer, you and your country in possession of the means of creating powerful new weapons. A fair bargain for all parties. But before we do, as a goodwill gesture, I wish to present you with a surprise."

Captain Weller arched an eyebrow inquisitively at Cartwright but said nothing. His men stiffened slightly, unsure of what the surprise would be, but alert for treachery.

After a brief silence, disappointed he had not been asked, Cartwright continued. "You are, I assume, familiar with Clark Savage, Jr., the man the newspapers call the Man of Bronze?"

At the mention of the bronze man's name, Captain Weller and his men started, their arrogant demeanor temporarily shaken. "Ja, ja, we have heard of this Doctor Savage. He fought against us with valor in the Great War. An amazing individual, from all accounts, and one I am sure people in your line of work here in the United States try to avoid."

"Yes, I assumed that the fame of the bronze devil had spread to your country. And you're right--few people tangle with Doc Savage and live to tell the tale. But you may not be aware that the bronze man has a cousin, a female cousin. I am, of course, speaking of the lovely Patricia Savage, soon to be late of Manhattan." Cartwright gestured and one of his men pushed Pat ahead. Pat stepped forward defiantly, chin held high, her golden-flecked gaze flickering back and forth between Cartwright and the U-boat commander. If looks could kill, they would both have been deep in Davy Jones' locker.

One of Weller's men whistled softly before catching himself. Though dishevelled from the treatment she had received, she stood like an Aryan goddess before her captors, defiance in every inch of her luscious frame. They could do what they wanted with her body, but they could never break the Savage spirit. The blue fabric of the coveralls was pulled taut over her firm, jutting breasts, hinting at the golden glories beneath. The twin globes of her asscheeks filled out the material behind her exquisitely, seemingly begging to be caressed. The sight of her was enough to bring a man of stone to life...and a man of flesh to stonelike hardness. Having been given no opportunity to clean up, the remains of the previous evenings activities were plain to see on her cheeks and chest, as dried cum was crusted white, there and in her bronze tresses. Though they said nothing, the devouring looks that the submarine's crew gave her as they took in the vision before them left little doubt that, given half a chance, they would give anything to see their own cum splattering hotly on the young woman as well.

"So, this is Patricia Savage," mused Captain Weller. Clicking his heels together, he gave a slight bow. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, fraulein."

"I'm afraid I can't reciprocate your feelings, Captain," Pat Savage replied. "If there were any honor left among you, you'd take Cartwright prisoner and free Dr. Murray and myself."

Captain Weller shook his head. "Well then, I am afraid we have a different concept of honor, Fraulein Savage. I am a soldier and I perform my tasks to the best of my ability. My country needs Dr. Murray and his device and it will have them." Looking at Cartwright, he asked, "If I may inquire what the young lady is doing here?"

"Certainly, my dear Captain" said Cartwright. "Miss Savage was stupid enough to involve herself in our affairs last night. We captured her and, being the gentlemen that we are, kept her...ah...entertained, shall we say?...all last evening. And I can safely state that while Doc Savage may be a physical marvel, he doesn't have anything on his cousin! But therein lies my dilemma. As delectable a morsel as Miss Savage proved to be, her infernal cousin is bound to come looking for her. And based on the stories about him, he's likely to find her if she's in the U.S. For obvious reasons, that's something I'd prefer to avoid. But you, my dear Captain, will be on a submarine for quite awhile while returning to your country. I am sure both you and your men could think of many interesting ways to entertain the young woman during the long voyage back. She is a woman of many skills. I would appreciate it if, as a gesture from a friend, you accept her from me as my gift to you."

Captain Weller involuntarily licked his lips as he gazed hungrily at the bronze bombshell. The gleam in his eyes betrayed his thoughts, as he contemplated all of the uses he could put the lovely Pat to on the trip home. "A princely gift, Herr Cartwright." He bowed to the gang leader. "My men and I thank you. Each of my crew has performed well on the trip to your country, it will be good to give them all a little reward! I am sure we will be able to occupy her fully on the journey. And once in my country, I have a friend who runs an establishment, catering to those of the upper class with expensive, and sometimes unusual, tastes. By the time we reach our shores, her spirit will be broken. As long as we take care not to permanently mark her on our voyage, with her beauty, she will earn me a great deal from those seeking new diversions."

Hearing the captain's words, Pat's blood grew cold. Though she had known the likely fate awaiting her on the submarine, hearing it expressed brought it to life vividly. The crew of the sub hadn't had a woman in weeks. Her firm young body would be violated over and over again on the trip as the crewmen used her to slake their lusts, singly and in groups. Her life would become one long episode of being fucked by strangers whose only thought of her was as a tool to bring themselves off. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of her fate.