Discipline at Breakfast.
When I awoke my first thought was that the past few days had been nothing but a dream. I was in a comfortable bed in a private cabin. Then I realized I was naked. And suddenly everything came rushing back to me and I lay back against my pillow, tears pouring from my eyes.
It was all true! It had all happened, just as I had thought I dreamt it. I realized my buttocks were sore and that reminded me of how I had been displayed before all the men, the whipping, and the mass groping to which I had thankfully lost consciousness. My cheeks burned when I remembered these things and I felt ashamed.
I felt even more embarrassed when I thought of the pirate captain, the Red Devil. I could feel myself growing aroused just thinking about him. What kind of man was he? He seemed a strange mixture of gentleman and bastard, and though he had been cruel to me I somehow felt he liked me. Or perhaps I just hoped he liked me.
The door to the cabin suddenly opened and a young man stood there. I hadn’t seen him before. He must have been about eighteeen. Even he looked rather fierce to me, however.
“The captain sent me to fetch you to breakfast, my _lady_,” he said with a sneer. It was obvious these pirates had no respect for titles.
I nodded and started to get out of bed when I realized I had no clothing. “Where are my clothes?” I said.
“You are to come as you are, _au naturel_ is how the captain put it.”
“I most certainly will not!”
The boy looked shocked at my outburst. “You’ll disobey the captain, the Red Devil himself?” he whispered in awe.
“He has no authority over me. He is a thief and dictator and a murderer and England shall see him hanged.”
The boy shook his head in admiration. “After your punishment last night I should think you’d be mighty pleased to do what the captain says.”
My cheeks grew hot as I realized this young lad had seen me displayed the evening before. With great difficulty I arose and wrapped the sheet around myself.
“I’ll warn you again, lady, not to make the captain mad. He specifically said to ‘come as you are.'” I shrugged and motioned for him to lead the way.
We came out on deck and the ship appeared deserted. A number of men were in the rigging, but few were on deck. The boy led me to the entrance to the galley and once again warned me against wearing the sheet. But on deck in broad daylight the concept of going about naked seemed ludicrous to me. Even the Red Devil couldn’t demand that!
The breakfast was apparently for senior officers, or the equivalent in pirate rankings, for there were only about a dozen men present at the long table. The captain was at the far end and he stood up when I entered. He was dressed as the night before.
“What’s this? Why’s she wearing that garment?”
“It’s the sheet from her bed, sir. She insisted, sir. I tried to tell her not to,” said the cabin boy. The captain nodded and sent him away and approached me.
“Well, well, I see a night of rest has restored your spirit, my girl. I appreciate your spirit but you’d do better to learn some humility. We’ll have to let you sleep on a wooden bench without sheets or blankets after this!” With that the Red Devil ripped the sheet from me and once again I stood naked before his men.
“I think a little humility is in order for breakfast this morning,” he said quietly to me, winking at his first mate. He took my hand and led me to his chair. He placed his left foot on the chair and before I realized what he was going to do he had lifted me and thrown me across his leg. He spread my legs apart and through the bend in his leg and between my legs I could see the faces of all the men at the table and they mine. My face turned crimson at the thought of how I looked, flopped across his leg, my buttocks and sex exposed for everyone.
The Red Devil took my arms and positioned them behind my neck and ordered me to keep them there. He adjusted me so that the men could see my breasts as well as my face. I had a dreadful premonition I knew what he was going to do.
Sure enough, he began to spank me, heavy slaps with his hand that really hurt.
At first I thought I could take the pain. I did my best to remain still and quiet. “I’ll show them,” I thought. “He can spank me all day before I’ll obey him.” I resolved not to put on a show for these brutes.
Perhaps that was why I did not struggle to escape. Or perhaps I realized it would be futile. They would only tie me and the punishment would be even worse. Whatever the reason, I did not try to escape.
But it wasn’t long before I was begging for mercy and vowing to obey his every wish. In retrospect I suppose it was this lack of resolve that humiliated me as much as anything. In my experience since then I have found that nothing tests the will as much a sound spanking. Everything in the world seems to lose perspective compared with the pain–a simple pain that seems bearable on the surface. Yet the spanking is deceitful–its nature is humiliation, not pain, and the humiliation eventually wins.
I tried to shut my eyes to keep from seeing the leering faces of the men watching, but the shock of the stinging blows kept making me open them. The small room made everything seem too intimate, somehow more real than the absurd nightmare of the previous evening. It was unbearable for me to picture myself, the daughter of an English lord, being spanked like a naughty child. I felt miserable and ashamed.
The spanking was a long one, far exceeding the few slaps he’d given me the night before. It didn’t hurt as much as the whipping, but it was more painful as it was more humiliating, and grew worse and worse the longer it continued.
Finally the Red Devil stopped and I never had felt such relief. My buttocks were hot and sore but the pain was already fading. My sex was strangely wet, despite the pain. Perhaps this was because I was so close to the captain, because it was him who had spanked me. I found myself wondering if he had enjoyed the spanking, if his hand liked the feel of my warm bottom….
Suddenly I grew concerned. Something was wrong. He should have released me from this position by now, but I was still stretched across his leg. And then I saw something that brought fear to my heart.
The cabin boy was returning from the kitchen carrying a flat wooden board. He handed it to the captain and retreated. Suddenly I knew this spanking was far from over and I deeply, deeply regretted disobeying the captain, and I vowed to never disobey him again.
I felt the wooden paddle resting against my bottom and I shuddered and tensed, waiting for the first blow. It didn’t come. Instead, the captain began to speak.
“Are you beginning to understand things, my lady? Are you forgetting that ugly haughtiness you display so proudly? Is your education succeeding?”
There was a pause and I realized I was supposed to answer. Without exactly intending to I said, “Yes, master.” I could almost feel the wide smile of the Red Devil.
“Excellent answer, my girl! You are indeed learning. But do not be too proud. There is much, much yet for you to learn. You are still far too proud. But this punishment softens you, it takes you places you never thought you’d go. It takes you beyond yourself. Once there your true self can begin to emerge. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master,” I said quickly and with a trace of awe. The frightening thing was that I _did_ understand. I understood it so clearly that it scared me. Because the captain was correct: I needed harsh discipline. I needed to be spanked.
I was proud and willful and all of my bravado was nothing but words in the wind. I acted rebellious and heroic because that was the way I thought I was supposed to act. Inside I knew that it was just an act. It was nothing I believed in. In fact, I suddenly realized, I had not worn the sheet because I was shy or attempting to protect my innocence–I had worn it because I had been afraid to be myself! The real me had thrilled at the idea of walking naked from my cabin to the galley with dozens of men watching my every move, lusting after my body.
So it was failure of being true to myself that I was being punished for, not disobedience. The captain was remarkably perceptive.
He was also very strong. I felt the paddle lift and I tensed. His hand suddenly touched my bottom and massaged it gently. I felt a cooling relief and realized he was spreading an ointment on my flesh. “This will protect your skin,” he whispered.
Soon he finished and my buttocks felt more exposed and vulnerable than ever. Strangely, the first few blows felt good to me. I accepted them, relished them. I deserved this punishment, I thought. It was right.
The paddle was thin and wide and covered a great deal more area than the strap of the previous night. Very quickly the whole of my bottom was sore and stinging, and soon I had again lost any resolve I had.
I desperately clenched my hands to my neck to keep them in place but I could not help but wiggle and move my bottom to try and gain some relief from the painful spanks. I could hear the men laughing and commenting on this as it made the spectacle much more entertaining, but I was so lost in the spanking I no longer cared.
My breasts felt heavy and I could feel them jiggle as I moved under the blows. The captain was paddling me really hard now, really testing me. I sobbed and struggled to remain obedient. He was bringing his blows up from below now, actually lifting my buttocks with each stroke. This made my buttocks felt heavy, their movement leaden.
It was more than I could bear, I thought, and I began to lose control. I kicked my feet and suddenly my hands broke free and they were desperately covering my bottom. The next blow landed on my palms but I scarcely noticed if it hurt or not. All I could think about was what the Red Devil would think or do. I felt like a disobedient child, and I knew I had disappointed him.
The Red Devil paused. “Put your hands back,” he said quietly. I did nothing for a moment and then slowly, very slowly, I put moved my hands back to my neck. He resumed the paddling as though nothing had happened. It was hard, so impossibly hard to keep my hands in place until he had finished but I did it.
The spanking didn’t last too much longer, but it felt like it went on forever. I was sobbing and completely lost in the spanking when he finally stopped. My buttocks boiled and even after he had stopped I could still feel the blows landing.
He pulled me up and sat me down in his chair. The wood was hard against my red bottom but in a way it felt good. It took me a moment to reorient myself right side up, but when I was ready the captain made me keep my hands at my side leaving my breasts exposed. I didn’t even care.
Then he began to feed me with his hands from his own plate. The meal was cold meat pie and porridge. It wasn’t until I had eaten the first bite that I realized how hungry I was. It had been days since I’d had a real meal.
So the daughter of an English lord sat naked at a table and let herself be fed by the hand of her master, like a common mongrel. But I was far too gone to even think of significance of such things. In fact, I felt honored that the Red Devil would feed me himself.
And secretly, yes, secretly I hoped this meant he’d keep me as his pet.
End of The Captains Wife – Part 6: Discipline at Breakfast
by Flogmaster
Continued in Part 7
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