Lessons From the Red Devil.
When I awoke the captain was asleep beside me and I did not move lest I wake him. Instead I studied his face and body in the early dawn light.
I loved his red hair, so unusual in color and texture. His beard always made my skin itch when we kissed. I examined his skin carefully and thoroughly until I knew I could identify every pore by touch in the dark.
His body was strong and lean and I caressed it gently, my eyes straying to his bulging cock peaking out from beneath the sheet. I gently pulled back the sheet and looked at his cock carefully. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, so tall and strong and majestic, its base planted in a bed of soft reddish curls. As I watched it I saw a tiny droplet of moisture ooze from the tip and I gasped. I looked at the captain and saw his eyes were open and he was watching me, his lips forming a small smile.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it!” I breathed. “I adore it. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“It’s not too big?”
“It’s perfect! Any bigger and it should split me in two,” I said with a smile. “Any smaller and there would be no challenge, no pain.” The events of the previous evening flashed through my mind and tears came to my eyes when I thought of all the pain and pleasure I had experienced.
“You enjoy the pain, don’t you,” he whispered, his hand stroking my cheek and wiping away my tear.
“It is not the pain that I enjoy, exactly. It is the pleasure, the unbelievable desire of my sex. The pain prolongs the pleasure and makes it more intense. When there is enough pain the pain becomes a pleasure of its own, but only as a substitute for the pleasure. If there was no pleasure to come the pain would not be pleasant. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” said the Red Devil. “The physical pain you receive is symbolic of the pain of your desire, your unsatisfied craving. The physical pain becomes a punishment of that craving, but in doing so, it only intensifies that craving.”
“Yes!” I hissed excitedly. “Exactly! You understand things so well, my captain. May I ask you a question?”
His smiled was amused as he nodded, like a wise teacher acknowledging the foolish whims of a naive student.
“Do you receive pleasure when you punish me? If so, why?”
“Absolutely!” his smiled widened. “I feel pleasure in several ways. For one, I am aroused seeing you frantic with shame and desperate to please me. In your desperation you lose all pretense. You are the true you, your real self is exposed, and that is incredibly erotic. You have no shame at that point, only exposed suffering and naked desire. You are no longer attempting to conceal anything–parts of your body or your secret desires.
“For another, I feel power and control watching you suffer for me. My heart thrills when I watch you contemplating an order I give you. Will she obey or not? How strong is your will? How much do you love me?
“It is not mindless sadism, where I seek nothing but your pain, for I seek your will. I want to see you willingly choose suffering because you love me, because you want to please me. That is why the punishments always involve humiliation. If I simply wanted to inflict pain there are countless more effective ways than spanking you! But the spanking shames you, it tests your will much more thoroughly than simple pain. The pain is the physical test, the humiliation the mental. Without one or the other the punishment would not succeed. Only together do they provide the true test.”
I watched the captain in amazement. His words were so clear, so discerning. I knew what he said was true. I had felt it myself, even during his fierce punishments. I was never truly afraid for my life, only afraid that I would be unable to accomplish what was ordered me to do.
“There are still other reasons for my pleasure,” he continued. “Take yourself. You are becoming a new person. Your true self is being set free. You are finally able to express your sexuality. You are an extremely sexual person yet you have always been shamed into keeping that part of yourself hidden.
“But now your raw self is exposed. You are becoming more humble, less arrogant and conceited. Your true inner beauty is being exposed for the first time.
“Also,” whispered the captain without a trace of shame, “I love to see your bottom bounce under the paddle, to watch your flesh change color. I love it when your tears drip onto your breasts and your nipples get so hard they seem like tiny pebbles between my fingers. I love the feel of your skin when it is hot and welted and so sensitive that my slightest touch will bring tears to your eyes. I love it when your body is mine to control. I love seeing the fear in your eyes, not knowing what I will demand of you next. Will you be able to please me? Will you be able to obey?
“Yet I’ll tell you a secret: it is much easier to obey than to disobey. Disobedience requires much more courage. That does not make disobedience a better thing. No! Absolutely not! Obedience is what I demand of you, and if you disobey you know you’ll be punished most severely.”
My breathing was harsh and difficult during most of the captain’s speech. My sex was throbbing fiercely at his words. I understood him so well it was as though we were one mind. How did he understand me so well? Where did he get such insights into my sexuality? Were all women the same or was I different?
But the captain was sitting up in the bed. As I watched him, drowsily, my mind elsewhere, I saw that he was retrieving the leather belt from his trousers. My heart stopped and I suddenly felt afraid as I remembered his promise from yesterday: each day was to begin with a good whipping.
My sex began to drip in anticipation but my heart sank and I wondered if I could bear yet another spanking. How bad would it be this time? How much courage would it take for me to sit still and take the punishment? And yet I knew this was to please him and so I vowed that I would take every blow with honor and grace.
But the captain had other ideas. He sat on the edge of the bed and made me stand before him, my buttocks near his face. My arms he positioned behind my back which arched my shoulders painfully and made my breasts jut out. He turned me so that I was sideways to him and made me bend over slightly, keeping my back straight.
The blows from the belt were loud and stung, though at first it was not as painful as the paddle. But soon my bottom was covered with tiny stings and growing welts and still the spanking continued, showing no signs of ending. The captain moved to my thighs, wrapping the thin belt around my legs. There was nothing I could do but cry.
From my position I could see the captain’s hard cock sticking up between his legs and it tormented me, for my sex was starving for attention and all I was getting was a fierce whipping.
I tried to concentrate on the whipping to distract my mind from the cries from my sex. I tried to imagine what I looked like, my large round bottom, already quite red and punished from last night, being covered with tiny welts and sharp stings, each fresh blow briefly turning the reddened skin white. My creamy smooth thighs were now pink from the belt, and it seemed that each time the captain left my buttocks to work on them my buttocks hurt even worse.
In real terror I began to writhe and wiggle my bottom, desperately trying to get it away from the loud belt. The captain bade me to stand up straight and to begin running in place. The blows continued as I began to trot, my breathing fast and my breasts bouncing heavily against my chest.
It felt incredibly awkward running in place with my hands behind my back, but the captain was urging me to go faster, and he increased the tempo of his blows. Desperately I tried to run faster, lifting my knees high in the air the way he demanded, the belt burning my buttocks and thighs.
“Run, Lady Sarah! Run like the wind!” shouted the captain. “Why do you stall? If you do not run I shall chase you all over the ship whipping you while all the crew watches!”
The threat brought a new terror to my breast and I redoubled my efforts. My feet were pounding against the wooden floor and the slight swaying of the ship made it difficult for me to keep in place. But the belt was lashing my bottom mercilessly, now striking from below, lifting the cheeks of my buttocks with each blow. My bottom felt so heavy and swollen and it seemed to bounce irrationally as I jogged furiously.
But suddenly I felt a sense of relief flowed through me. My terror evaporated. Perhaps I was simply too exhausted to feel fear any longer. All I know is that I felt at peace. I felt I understood the cruel belt. I understood the harsh grunting and heavy breathing of the captain as he stood behind me and swung the belt tirelessly, his cock stiff and oozing. I understood that I was his love slave and there could be no mercy for me. I was not in control. It was not my choice to decide when I’d had enough. I was at the mercy of the Red Devil and so I strived to please him. I arched my back and offered him my buttocks. I lifted my knees even higher, and ignoring my painful breathing and the heavy weights of my bobbing breasts I struggled to run even faster, the belt striking the crack of my buttocks again and again.
And suddenly the belt was no longer there but I continued to run, my chest wet with tears as I sobbed, the backs of my legs and my buttocks blazing. The captain let me fall onto the bed face down and I wept into the pillow there. I felt completely drained and exhausted, every part of my body crying in pain. I could not keep track of all the emotions running through me. It seemed that there were none I could call my own.
Then the captain laid across me, his hard cock against my raw buttocks. He lifted himself and entered me from behind, pumping himself against my crimson bottom. In agony I lifted my hips toward him, his every touch painfully sweet. I felt him inside me but he wasn’t touching me enough and though my sex dribbled juice everywhere I was not satisfied.
I began to pump backwards against him and I felt him murmur in surprise. I felt his cock touch my sensitive spot and the thrill that passed through me was so intense I thought I’d pass out. Again and again it passed, wave after wave. It was so sharp and poignant that I raised myself upwards off the bed onto my knees, the captain clinging to my back in desperation.
Then he exploded in me and pumped the last of his seed inside me. We both fell onto the bed, exhausted. I must have fallen asleep because when I heard a knock at the door the captain was gone and the cabin boy stood in the doorway.
“It’s time for your bath before breakfast,” he said with an eager smile. That young lad took to his new responsibility with remarkable enthusiasm, I thought with a smile.
End of The Captains Wife – Part 10 : Lessons From the Red Devil
by Flogmaster
Continued in Part 11
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