Keith Rexnolds - Whipping Up The Waves Buch

The narrator of this story is a female sailor who loves women … whose girlfriend, Tanya, has become involved with a savage S&M club and who has fallen into the clutches of a sadistic Master who now owns her outright.
Using her wiles, Tanya persuades a sponsor to create an all female crew for a yacht race, which goes sadly wrong when they are caught in a storm and then captured by Portuguese sailors who use and abuse them brutally before they escape – all except Tanya.
Her Master seeks revenge for the loss of the most exciting woman he has ever met – so the narrator is chosen to take her place in his dungeons and at parties, to be used by all his cruel guests and friends!

From the book: ‘…"Leave me alone!"
The Captain made a twirling motion with his finger and a small deck crane thundered into life. A heavy chain rattled and a hook was lowered to the deck. Jane began to scream but the two crewmen fought her to the floor.
They produced a length of timber with holes drilled at both ends and, despite Jane’s frantic struggles, they forced the wood between her ankles and tied it in place using ropes threaded through the holes. Her legs were spread a metre apart and they now tied a longer rope to both ankles. Once it was secure they lifted the loop over the hook and Jane gave a dreadful scream as she was hauled up into the air.
The crane stopped when she was hanging upside down a foot above the filthy metal decking.
Tanya was shaking with terror and I tried to comfort her but I could not rid myself of the thought that the length of wood had been all too convenient and I began to wonder how many times they had done this before. This opinion was reinforced when, without a word, another crewman stripped off his shirt.
He was a squat brute of a man with a body bearing a variety of scars. He had huge, well-muscled arms, almost completely covered in tattoos and when he moved he appeared almost simian. He took up a duffel bag and I gasped when he produced a cat o’nine tails.
Somewhere from the depths of my fevered mind I dredged up the fact that Portuguese vessels still sailed with a cat o’nine tails as a good luck charm and I wondered if this gave some clue to the vessel’s nationality...