My Education Begins.
The Red Devil gave more orders and the large man silently obeyed. More ropes were produced. He came over to me and quickly tied a rope to each of my ankles. Then he adjusted the rope above my head to lower me. As he did so two others pulled my legs apart. When my legs were stretched quiet wide the ropes were tied
to fittings on the deck. I was now hanging, my open crotch only two feet from the deck. My face was even with the Red Devil’s chest.
I was completely helpless and that terrified me. I frantically wriggled and tried to free myself, tried to touch the deck with my feet, but I could do nothing. I stopped struggling hastily when I realized with shame the pirates were enjoying the sight of my writhing body. I wanted to give them as little pleasure as I could.
Now the Red Devil–how aptly he was named–approached me. I could see his smile and already I knew him well enough to understand that what made him smile did not always bode well for me.
He grasped my left breast with his right hand and squeezed it hard. Then he kissed me. It was a very rough kiss, and he used his left hand behind my head to hold me steady. I tried to bite him, or spit, but he pushed his lips so tightly against mine that there was nothing I could do. After struggling a bit I finally gave in and kissed
him back.
His kiss was nothing like William’s. William was always soft and gentle. The Red Devil was rough and rude, but very passionate. His beard felt strange against my face, but I liked the smell of it.
Towards the end of the kiss he did the most shocking thing: he pushed his tongue into my mouth! I was dumbfounded, but his hand still held my head and there was no way for me to back out. Shivers of pleasure and emotion ran down my spine when our tongues touched in such an intimate manner.
Meanwhile, his right hand continued to grind away at my left breast, pinching the nipple painfully, which intensified my pleasure. I could feel my sex dripping and I knew with shame that the deck beneath me must have droplets of moisture for all to see.
Suddenly he pulled back. I hung there, panting, bewildered. Then he slapped my left breast. At first I thought it just hurt and I screamed, mostly in fear and shock. But after the first sting had faded I discovered a remarkable sensation. My breast was tingling and alive, the nipple hard, and my sex grew even more wet. His slap had aroused me!
My confusion grew as he now worked on the right breast, squeezing and pinching and finally slapping it. I thought I would explode with pent-up energy and tension. My nipples hurt they were so hard.
But suddenly I felt his hand touch my sex. I screamed and pleaded with him to leave me alone but he only continued to touch me. His fingers touched my secret place and I thought I’d die of embarrassment. It was intolerable for me to be subjected to the throes of passion in public like this. I writhed and pulled against my
bonds but only succeeded in chaffing my wrists and ankles.
Now he had moved behind me. He touched my buttocks, playing lightly with the flesh. He slapped my bottom lightly, then harder, and finally spanked me very hard several times. Tears came to my eyes as I struggled to remain composed. But then, shame of all shames, he proceeded to examine my anus!
He touched it with his finger, tracing the hole lightly with his finger. Then he pushed his finger partway into the hole and I froze, terrified. Was he going to kill me? Was this some new form of death by torture?
His finger went in farther and it hurt. I writhed in pain but he only slapped my buttocks with his free hand until I quieted down. He removed his finger and approached me from the front. Smiling that evil smile he gripped my jaw and forced my mouth open.
“Lady Sarah, daughter of Lord Leebury, would you so kindly lick my finger clean?”
I screamed at him and tried to bite his finger but he was too quick. He only laughed and gestured to his men. “Well, men, it seems she needs to learn obedience and manners. She doesn’t know how to behave around a ship captain.”
The large man now approached me from the side. He was holding something but he moved behind me before I could see what was in his hands. “Shall I, Captain?” he said and the Red Devil nodded.
I heard a loud crack and felt a chilling pain across my buttocks. It stung much worse than the spanking from the Captain. Again and again it struck, and I was writhing and crying and desperately trying to get away from the leather strap. But it was no use. The blows continued. I soon ceased struggling as it only exhausted
me. I simply hung there and received the lashes across my backside.
The large man (who I learned later was the first mate), was standing to one side and he would swing his strap horizontally across both buttcheeks. The pain was tremendous and at first it was all I could understand. I had never been whipped before, and the pain numbed my mind.
In a panic I remembered the stories my mother had told me of the strict convent where she had lived for six years. How the sisters were quite liberal with the strap and cane and her buttocks always seemed to be on the receiving end of their fierce blows.
Over the years Mother had described many of the punishments she had received, telling me in stroke-by-stroke detail how they had welted the skin, raised blisters, and once, drawn blood.
I had always thought her stories were exaggerated to strike terror into the heart of a child, but now, feeling the sting of the lash, I thought she hadn’t even begun to describe the pain. It didn’t seem anyone could live through this.
Gradually, though, I became more accustomed to the pain, and became aware of some of its nuances. Each blow was slightly different in intensity and position. Some blows would strike sensitive skin and I would scream in agony and throw my head to the sky and pray to God for mercy.
Other blows, however, were somehow sexually oriented. They would strike me and I would thrive on them, lurching up, every pore in my body sensitive and tense, my sex dripping. These blows never seemed to satisfy me, never seemed to quench my desire, the fire between my legs. I craved more, more whipping, harder
whipping, heavier blows. Anything to stop that fire between my legs.
During the whole whipping the Red Devil stood in front of me and watched, his eyes on mine every time I looked. Whenever our eyes met I looked away, somehow embarrassed, though I don’t know why. I could tell he enjoyed the whipping immensely, and the more uncomfortable it was for me the more he enjoyed it, which
frustrated me terribly. I did not want to give him any pleasure, and yet here I was pleasing him by simply enduring his punishment.
Finally he signaled an end to the punishment and the first mate gave me one last terrific crack that sent spasms of pain and pleasure through me. I lay hanging, suddenly realizing I was exhausted, completely drained. My legs ached from being stretched apart, my arms hurt, and my buttocks throbbed and burned. But my sex was the most distressing. It burned most miserably like an itch that longs to be scratched, but there was no relief for me.
I was lost for a few moments, dreaming of pain and pleasure and William and the Red Devil and my father when suddenly I felt someone touch my breast. I opened my eyes and the first thing I noticed was that all the men were gathering around me, touching me, groping my body. Someone pinched my bottom cruelly and another gave it a hard slap. I felt lips licking one of my breasts but hard fingers were pinching the nipples of the other and I was too confused to even tell which was which.
Suddenly my body was alive with sensations. Fingers, lips, tongues, hands, touched my body. I felt hands prying at my sex, faces between my legs. Fingers widened the crack of my buttocks and poked at my anus. Hands pulled at my hair, caressed my breasts, brushed against my cheeks. Someone was pinching and slapping my thighs while others played with my legs and feet, tickling, pinching, and slapping. I tried to scream but couldn’t–my mind was overwhelmed by sensations.
All around me was pushing and shoving and cursing and crude remarks. I could not see the Red Devil anywhere, and that troubled me. I heard comments and compliments, and some of the suggestions filled me with terror. My mind couldn’t have imagined that such things could be done to a living being.
Then someone was being lifted in front of me by his fellows so that he could place his penis in my face. I shook my head and tried to get away but hands were everywhere, pulling and pushing on me, and there was nothing I could do. The last thing I remember was the slick flesh being pushed into my mouth, my eyes filled
almost solely with the sight of the man’s crotch hair. I fainted dead away.
End of The Captains Wife – Part 5: My Education Begins
by Flogmaster
Continued in Part 6
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