The Captains Quarters.
The Captain’s cabin was almost twice the size of my tiny room, but that was not saying much. It was neat and clean, however, and well organized. There was a small desk and chair in the corner and it was covered with writing materials. I noticed several books and I was very impressed.
“A pirate that reads!” I thought. “How extraordinary!”
But I did not have much time for dwelling on these items as the captain gave me another smack with the paddle and told me to climb onto the bed and lie down. I obeyed immediately, lying on my back on the rough blanket. He stretched by hands out above my head so that I was completely exposed to his scrutiny. He began to examine me.
He looked at my feet and touched my toes. He ran his fingers along my legs and thighs. When he reached my sex he expertly placed his finger on exactly the correct spot to generate an intense surge of pleasure. He grinned at my reaction and said, “Your body understands who your master is, even if you do not.”
I could only nod, gasping at his continued touch. Suddenly he took his fingers away leaving me in more pain than I thought I could bear. I wanted desperately to touch myself down there but I knew instinctively that it was forbidden. I held my arms in place but could not help gyrating my pelvis in a vain attempt to achieve satisfaction.
With a low growl he slapped my breasts, not once, but several times, a series of hard left and right blows that made my the flesh of breasts shift back and forth following his hand. I desperately held my hips steady and concentrated on the pain of my nipples to distract me from the greater pain of my desire.
He stopped slapping me finally and took a breast in each hand and examined them closely. His scrutiny was so precise I found myself terrified that he would discover a flaw, some horrible defect that would cause him to reject me. My eyes teared at the prospect and I was most relieved when he began to squeeze my breasts and pinch the nipples. The sensation was intense and I felt my hips rise off the bed as I tensed and shuddered at the waves of pain and pleasure that ran through my body.
I had never felt anything like this before. No one had ever touched my breasts. I dare say no man had seen them before the Red Devil. (William had asked me to show them to him once, when he was quite drunk and I was feeling loose, but I had been quite shocked and refused.)
But now the captain was biting the nipples and sucking on my breasts. But even while he had one breast in his mouth his hand continued to massage and squeeze the other. It was a heavenly and intoxicating feeling. My sex was incredibly wet.
The Red Devil took his lips away from my breasts and brought them up to my neck and kissed me. He kissed my throat and my chin and finally my lips. Again I was lost in his sweet kiss.
I could feel his power and masculinity through his forceful kiss, and his tongue began to probe into my mouth. He ran his tongue across my teeth and against my tongue. He pushed against it, hard, and I pushed back. I could feel his saliva in my mouth and rather than revolt me, I found I was aroused by such bizarreness.
Throughout the kiss his hands had never stopped exploring my body, touching my breasts and arms and legs and sex. His fingers were all over me, feeling, touching, probing. It was an exhausting sensation, my whole body alive with feeling.
He turned me over suddenly, running his lips through my hair and down my back. He kissed my sore buttocks, the gentle touch awakening all the sensitized flesh. I felt his tongue lick at the red welts and I thought I had never felt anything so pleasant.
Then his tongue flicked into the crack of my buttocks and I froze in fear and amazement. His tongue tickled my sensitive area, driving me to thrust my buttocks up into his face so he could get a better lick. To be teased by that darting tongue was unbearable.
But the captain slapped my bottom and laughed. “Hold still, mighty virgin,” he hissed. “There’s plenty of time. We’re in no hurry.”
Perhaps he was in no hurry, but I had no patience. I was aroused like I had never been before in my life and I wanted immediate satisfaction. It was agony for me to relax and wait for his schedule.
“Your buttocks are barely welted,” he said quietly, his hands caressing my flesh, sending shivers down my spine. “You have excellent skin, very resilient, tough yet smooth and supple.”
“Thank you, master,” I breathed, hoping the answer would please him.
“I shall enjoy punishing such beautiful buttocks as yours, my dear. I think we shall begin with a sound spanking every morning before breakfast. It will do you wonders!”
My heart was pounding in terror at this news, but a part of me I did not recognize was excited by the prospect of the daily spanking. What would it be like to be spanked every day? Would it become boring or old? Would my skin take such punishment? How severe of a spanking was the captain referring to, anyway?
But the captain was already pulling me across his lap for another spanking right now. I struggled to contain my tears. “Why do you cry?” he asked pleasantly.
“Because you are going to spank me, Captain,” I said.
“I have not begun.”
“But you are about to,” I cried. “I am crying because I know it will hurt.”
The captain seemed amused by my answer. “Perhaps I shall be gentler this time.” But he was not. His spanks were as hard as ever and he laughed gaily as he pounded on my bottom. The blows made me bounce around on his lap as I wriggled and tried to escape the punishment, which only made him laugh more.
“I love to watch your bottom squirm like that!” he said, spanking me harder. “Now move that bottom!”
I wasn’t sure if he was serious or not but I decided to not take any chances. I wiggled my bottom as fast as I could, frantically jerking it up and down, left and right. It didn’t relieve the pain, of course, but it did please the captain. He laughed and told me I was wonderful, that I was the most beautiful girl in the world.
He turned me around and sat me in his lap, my burning buttocks pressed against his legs. “Now kiss me,” he said quietly, and I complied. While we kissed his hand sought out my sex and his fingers pushed themselves into me, causing me to blush and feel hot at the same time.
We pulled apart to breathe and he took my hand and guided it to my sex. “Touch yourself,” he said. I was horrified but his tone gave me no room for argument. I obeyed, feeling shameful.
My fingers found that little pleasure nodule in my secret place and I began to stroke it gently. I was already quite aroused and it seemed like just moments I was climaxing.
Suddenly the Red Devil pulled my hand away leaving my hips surging blindly forward and my sex starving. I let out a cry of protest and he slapped my left breast. He pushed me to the floor beneath him and I felt myself wilting. “No!” I wanted to scream. “Please don’t send me away!” I thought desperately, for I believed he was upset with me.
But he was smiling. He stood up and touched his crotch. I saw a large bulge in his pants there and my heart caught in my throat. Suddenly there it was, a long tube-like projection, much heavier and harder than cousin Lily had described. It was a deep red, almost purple in color and as the captain stroked it with his hand it almost seemed to grow bigger before my eyes. He leaned his head back and looked up to the sky and groaned.
“Take it in your mouth,” he whispered, his voice harsh and desperately eager. “Quickly!” Without much time to think about it I obeyed. I was almost as curious as I was repulsed, but the threat of angering the captain made my decision an easy one. My bottom was still sore from the last time I had displeased him.
His organ was alive and pulsing in my mouth, reminding me a little of a serpent, and I almost choked. But it was warm and salty and I could tell it pleased him very much. I licked him lightly with my tongue and his immediate reaction encouraged me to lick him more. I licked his sex clean. I found my own sex was dripping down my thighs I was so aroused.
“Suck on it!” His cry was plaintive, the cry of a helpless little boy. Did I really have such power over him? Did he now need sexual satisfaction as much as I had moments ago? For a second I thought of pulling away and tormenting him, but I restrained myself. He would only punish me and say that I was the one who needed to be tormented, not him.
Suddenly he was convulsing, his organ jerking slowly into my mouth, pressing against the back of my throat. I wanted to gag but his hands were behind my head and roughly pushed me into me. The jerking increased its rhythm and I increased my sucking to match its tempo.
Faster and faster we went until my mouth was suddenly filled with a liquid and I realized he had spurted into my mouth. Cousin Lily had told me about the spurting–her fiance had come into her hand to show her how it worked. But she had never spoken of taking the man’s sex into her mouth, and certainly never mentioned coming in the mouth.
I heaved as I began to gag and the captain pulled himself out of me. With his strong hands he gripped my jaw shut. “Swallow it, little Lady. Swallow the come of a common man.”
I swallowed, desperately, and tried not to taste the come. It was slick and salty and I thought back to the pain of the paddling that morning in an effort to distract my mind from what I was doing. I thought of how I’d been positioned, hanging upside down across his leg, helpless and vulnerable, and I managed to swallow the last of the liquid.
The captain seemed very pleased with me. “You are becoming an excellent love slave,” he said proudly. “Slowly but surely your pride is disappearing. Every spank and every humiliation you’ve received is breaking down those false airs and stuffy ideas. Soon you will even _think_ like a commoner!”
I nodded obediently. A part of me felt alive and invigorated by what the captain said. Another part wondered what my mother would think if she could see me now. She’d die of shock right on the spot, no doubt. The very idea that her daughter would be seen with such common trash was scandalous. That her daughter would be engaged in sexual activity with such low-bred creatures–criminals and outlaws, no less–was even worse.
That thought made me wonder again why I was cooperating with the captain. Why wasn’t I fighting his every advance, screaming at his touch, spitting on his face when I got the chance? I decided it wasn’t so much the punishment I feared, though I did dread the spankings and public exposure, but the lack of commitment on my part. I realized that I just didn’t really care about my honor, or even the honor of my family. My father was a boor, really, not to speak ill of the dead. He was not much liked by his friends and his enemies hated him.
So why struggle and subject myself to more pain and punishment? Besides, maybe being a love slave to the handsome captain was something I _wanted_ to do. Who knew? In my entire life I had almost never been allowed to make a decision. I was not sure what I wanted. But I knew I felt moved by the captain and I wanted to please him. If he wanted me to be a love slave then that’s what I’d be until I decided otherwise.
The captain lifted me to the bed and laid me down. He ran his hands all over my body, touching my sex with his fingers. Suddenly he laid on top me, kissing me, his chest pressing against my sore breasts. I felt his finger touching my sex and suddenly froze in shock: it wasn’t his finger.
He entered me quickly and abruptly, the pain taken away by the shock I felt. As he began thrusting against me I thought I would burst with pleasure. My legs were slick with my juices and his heavy weight on top of me, pushing him into me, felt wonderful.
I thrust upward with my hips, lifting my buttocks off the bed. He moaned and clutched at my buttocks, pulling them to himself. His hands were large and his grip painful but I loved his every touch.
Everything now was directed at trying to satisfy the craving of my sex. As one being we pulsed and beat together, our cries and moans loud and frantic. The tempo increased until I thought I would die from the vibrations. Then he gave me a violent thrust that hurt my very bones and suddenly his organ exploded inside me, his seed spurting. The affect was liberating, invigorating.I had never felt such incredible desire and complete satisfaction together. I was lost in a dreamy haze and soon drifted asleep, vaguely aware the captain was quietly sleeping across my breasts, his organ still inside me.
End of The Captains Wife – Part 8 : The Captains Quarters
by Flogmaster
Continued in Part 9
[previous_page] | [next_page]