Finnigan’s Island
By Woody
Acting advice from Ginger was not Mary Ann’s request. She needed less ropes and gags.
"Now the way you carry her Professor is fine, but on the way to your lab, try the over the shoulder carry, like a sack of something."
"Sack of potatoes."
"Yes. Only like a savage native come to sweep her into bondage."
"Like this?"
He flipped her around until she was over his right shoulder, her feet up front and her head hanging down his back.
"That’s a Classic pose Professor, just like this Hercules movie I made with Dan Vardis. There was a guy who could hoist a gagged and bound woman. But you look fine. So do you Mary Ann."
Her black pigtails bounced as she looked up. Her dark tanned skin and Canary Yellow bikini showed well against the Professor’s white shirt and pants. The light brown cord binding her wrists was suitable. Her gag, a white knee sock of the Skipper’s stuffed with a blue linen handkerchief of Mr. Powells was cleaved deep enough to showcase white teeth over her deeply tanned face. Hard to read her eyes, but they definitely had a fiery look.
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She was carted off and Ginger decided to edit with a jump cut to the next scene in their hut where she slipped out of her white bathing suit and sandals then checked her nude body in the full-length mirror.
"Perfect!"
She wasn’t commenting on the shape of the mirror.
She changed into another outfit and walked out of the hut in time for Finnigan to run his head right into her D-cups and bang her on her butt while he bounced sideways into the hut wall and face first on the ground.
He waffled to his feet.
"Ginger my gosh, did I kill you?"
"You’ll wish you’d had. Help me up.
He grabbed the sash around her waist that matched the Sunset Red print bikini she wore and managed to have that come loose in his hands while leaving Ginger on her bottom.
"Did I rip it?"
"No, don’t bother.
She got up and fitted back on one of the Glowing Black Vamp style sandals with the nearly five inch heels.
She straightened up and asked, "are you okay?"
"I hit my eye on one of your, on one of youræ"
"I can feel where your eye and the rest of your head hit. I’ve had it mentioned that they are ‘Deadly Weapons.’"
"What my head?"
"No silly these," she said with a twist of her torso that made Finnigan’s eyes twirl.
"Yeah your right. I mean their nice weapons. I mean they’re not weapons."
"I know what you mean. Who were you running to?"
"Gosh, oh yeah, I need to see Mary Ann."
"Well she’s tied up at the moment."
"Busy huh? Well I’ll run into her later."
"Try walking. Goodbye Finnigan."
"Bye Ginger."
She did another jump cut to the Skipper and Finnigan’s hut.
"Hi Ginger, the Professor ran off fresh rope, got eighty feet worth’s.
"That’s hairy looking stuff."
"It’s the coir type he makes from the fibers of coconut shells. He’s working on a batch of Manila but I thought we needed some fast so we got this."
"OK Skipper, let’s scout a location far away from the huts. I just ran into Finnigan and we don’t want to have him see us rehearsing."
"Did he hurt you when you ran into him?"
"About even. Does he do that to you much?"
"Four times a day, at least this week. So I should tie you to a tree?"
"We’ll discuss it on the way."
Another jump cut and they were there. Ginger backed into a palm tree and put her hands around it.
"This should work. First you have to grab me, keep me quiet and tell me what to do. Then you can tie my hands behind the tree, then tie the rest of me to the tree trunk."
"Looks like a shear lashing would be the best," said Skipper.
"You’re the sailor man with all the knots. On second thought, after you grab me, don’ t tell what to do, just shove me to the tree and start tying. Now the important thing to work on is surprise and quiet."
Ginger took off the sash around her waist and laid it near the tree she’d picked.
"Now I’ll walk east to west. When I get to right here," she put an X in the ground with her high heel, " you come from behind. It’s important that I’m unable to make a sound after you grab me. You’ve got to clamp down on my mouth."
"Should I say anything?"
"No you’ll be playing a headhunter, so at most you should grunt. I’ll be doing most of the grunting since I’ll be gagged. Let’s run through it."
The Skipper began lurking and Ginger went up the path a ways, then started her scene. The Skipper kept an eye on her long legs under the small bikini bottom. Ginger walked, slowed, kept walking and then walked back. Then she again walked past her mark, Skipper watching her thighs move.
"Does someone need a cue?"
"Sorry Ginger, just thinking over the knots and hitches."
"Take two coming up. Be ready Skipper. Feel free to improvise. You have to be in the moment, don’t think of stopping. We need flow."
Ginger walked into her scene, hit her mark and Skipper bopped her.
His right hand cupped her jaw and sealed off her mouth as he bent her back. His left arm snatched her arms and welded them to her ribs. His legs grapevined hers and he bent and took her over. They collapsed with him on top and Ginger face down.
"Gov umpit. Mummp!"
Skipper scooted his knees up where they notched in with her shoulder blades, then put his other hand over her mouth and cranked. Her red hair covered over the crotch of his white pants.
"Ungo bongo gable," he jabbered in what he hoped could be taken for headhunter lingo.
"Nigum mum mumnif!"
It sounded like a positive note from the director.
He couldn’t hold her like this for long. What about a gag? Should he let her go and ask? No better to improvise.
One of his ham-size hands was enough to gag Ginger so he slid the right one off and used it to dig next to the Island trail. He came up with a clump of dirt and weed.
He jammed his right knee into the small of her back and used his right hand to ready the cannons, so to speak. Then he removed his left palm, Ginger’s mouth came open
"Skipurm joy lag!"
Mainly she said this due to the dirt and weed clump he started shipping inside her mouth.
Then he rolled her. On her back he pinned her shoulders, then straightened her arms. He shifted off enough to flip her long legs into the air, then worked her butt clear of the ground. He stuck his head into the small of her back, pulled her hands down under her butt, and rested his knees on the back of them.
Ginger made like a pop corn popper with her mouth, shooting off bits of moist dirt. This part of unscripted action she’d edit.
He unhooked her bikini top and laid it to the left. He moved his head and grabbed her bikini bottom, and as he let her legs cash back down peeled the bikini away. He crawled off her hands to drop her suit and roll her over for remount.
"Pak groom deck," said Ginger as she spit more dirt. She spit twice more before her bikini bottom started to parallel park on top her tongue.
"Mogul mut mut," said Ginger trying to end the scene. The camera rolled on.
He straddled her long frame as his right hand pressed the red print bikini bottom into her mouth. Then he swung the top bikini piece over with his left and grabbed the other end and pulled back, the bikini cups paused on her lips, then slid back to join the other part of her suit.
"Noodle okra milieu tarry," said Ginger. Then she coughed as Skipper pulled the ends back and began snaking them through her red hair. He snatched them up behind her head and tied them off.
He grabbed her right forearm with his right arm and put her in a Step Over Face Downward Hammerlock and Shoulder Crank while thinking how to get her to the tree. Ginger’s right breast was pointed towards the trunk they had chosen; her left nipple was brushing the jungle trail.
"Orgun!"
The gagged Ginger wouldn’t step out of her role long enough to tell him what to do. Skipper knew she was too much of a pro to break the scene. (He surprised himself on how he was already thinking like a thespian)
He got to his knees, then stood up, taking Ginger on up with him. He put her in a Full Nelson, then into a Standing Surfboard Leg Grapevine using the Locking Hands Variation.
Ginger’s red mane of hair fell forward to reveal the tight knot Skipper had made in the ends of her red bikini top. Skipper took the grapevine lock off Ginger’s left thigh and they slowly made their way to the tree. He let go long enough to dock her rump against the tree then pitched her arms around it and began tying her wrists together. Ginger wondered if her arms were still in their sockets.
The Skipper hitched her wrists tight, then took more of the rope and looped it below her breasts and fastened it as tight as her wrists. Then more coil around her waist, hips, thighs, knees, shins and ankles. He went back and checked the knots. As tight as an unfurled sail bound to the main mast.
"Toog ker. Umbrella deak drood," said Ginger.
Her acting impressed the Skipper. She wasn’t just another pretty face. She kept talking through her bikini gag, then stopped and stared at him, shaking her head. Her thick mane of red hair flowed side to side.
He was puzzled, then got it. With the last bit of hairy rope he put a loop around her neck and pinned it to the tree. Anything to help her play her role.
"Doozer dink flag gump eat," she said.
Skipper waited and wondered. Was he supposed to carry her off?
Gingers eyes went wide, then wider, and then she blinked. And blinked. This went on for a while, with her adding realistic moans to the scene. Skipper wondered again what this should lead to, and then it hit him. He checked her eyes again. Still wide, then blinking.
With ease an old seadog like him picked up the Morse Code. Slowly it read: "Skipper take off my gag."
"Wow that was some acting Ginger."
He held both pieces of the bikini in his left hand.
"Thank’s Skipper. You did all right. Need some work. I may go lie down at the hut and think up a different way to do this. But you did all right, don’t get me wrong. Pretty good for the first time out. I think we can take these ropes off."
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