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The Captains Wife (Chapter 7) free porn video
Chapter 7 - Kitchen Duties
After breakfast the captain gave me to the cabin boy. He was going to make sure I followed the captain's instructions. The first order of the day was a bath.
As the captain pointed out, most of the crew ignored bathing, but cultured women liked to feel clean. So Lady Leebury would be bathed each day after breakfast.
I was pleased about this at first, but even something as simple as a bath was not simple on a pirate ship. To begin, the bath was a public affair. Next, the water was cold sea water, and it was not heated. Finally, the cabin boy was given the arduous task of cleaning my body.
I stood in a tub at the bow of the ship while the cabin boy filled it with buckets of sea water pulled from shipside. I obediently held my hands over my head as he poured the cold water over my body. After my morning discipline I had no wish to anger the captain. I tried to ignore all the gawkers in the rigging and around the deck.
The cabin boy began to clean me. He used a rag and ran it over my body. There was no soap, but it was better than nothing. I was forced to remain motionless as he carefully washed my face and arms and neck, then my chest and breasts and back. He took special care cleaning my buttocks--it was obvious they were tender. The captain had given him some of the ointment, he told me, so after the bath he'd apply it.
As he washed me we began to talk. His name was Robb, he said, though no one called him anything but cabin boy. He'd ran away from home at nine because his father beat him so much. He'd been a stowaway on a ship that the pirates had attacked and he'd somehow convinced the Red Devil to let him join.
He dipped the cloth back into the water and began washing my legs. I could tell he was avoiding my crotch area as long as possible and that amused me. It seemed I had found someone, finally, that was more embarrassed than me!
"It's all right," I told him. I spread my legs a little so he could clean me better. He was fascinated by what he saw there, I could tell. "You've never seen a woman before, have you." It was a statement, not a question. He shook his head and blushed.
"I've been here since I was ten and we hardly ever get women. Few merchant ships have women on board and those that do usually kill 'em rather than let the Red Devil poke 'em."
"Well, explore away, young Robb. I've got no shame any more." That wasn't exactly true, I knew. My nudity was less shameful to me than before, true. But other things were even worse.
For instance, when we left the galley there was a huge crowd of men gathered outside the doorway. They had apparently heard the sounds of the paddling and come for a glimpse. And though I tried to walk proud and shameless I felt so humiliated when every man on the boat could see the evidence of my punishment. The captain had ordered that while I was on board I was to remain naked at all times and that I was to always walk with my hands behind my head so that everyone could see my body. There was no way to hide my red bottom from the men. I'm certain my face must have been nearly as red.
The cabin boy finished bathing me and poured another bucket of cold water over me to rinse me off. The salt water brought new life to the welts on my buttocks and I yelped a little. Then he used a large piece of cloth to dry me off.
Next he had me lie down on the foredeck and he spread the ointment on my buttocks. The ointment felt heavenly, but his every touch awoke all kinds of sensations. He was good--he massaged and kneaded the ointment into the flesh rather than simply spreading it across the surface, but every time he took his hands away my bottom burned.
When he had finished I felt very sleepy. "What's next?" I asked pleasantly.
"We go to the kitchen. You're to help prepare and serve lunch."
For an instant I thought about protesting but then I was quiet. "Whatever the captain wants," I whispered quietly.
At the kitchen I was given over to the custody of the cook. I hated him on sight. He was large, beefy man and he seemed unclean. He looked at me with such lecherous eyes he frightened me. He gripped my left breast in his huge hand and drooled as he tried to kiss me, waving the cabin boy away. "I'll take care of her, now, boy," he hissed.
Immediately he had me on my hands and knees scrubbing the filthy floor. He especially liked it when my face was low, so low my breasts would drag across the floor and my buttocks were high in the air behind me where he could get a better view. Whenever he thought I wasn't putting forth enough effort or wasn't low enough he'd smack my rump with his hand. Soon he decided that wasn't good enough so he switched to a wooden paddle. That way he could smack me without bending over.
It was miserable and degrading and I wept silently as I worked. The spanks were only occasional and didn't really hurt, but they weren't from the Red Devil, and that made me feel horrible.
After cleaning the floor I was put to work peeling potatoes and carrots. It was here the real cruelty and character of the cook became evident. He had made me stand on an old wooden box as I worked so that I had to bend over across the table. My breasts hung down and he would occasionally squeeze them or pinch my bottom.
At one point he told me I was working to slow and gave me a few cruel swats with the paddle, laughing as he did so. I tried to work faster but I had never peeled a potato in my life. I almost cut myself in my haste.
Exasperated, he came back again and I dreaded more spanking but instead he picked up a small carrot. The grin on his face made me freeze in fear. He came around behind me and suddenly he was opening my buttocks. He found my anus and plugged it soundly with the carrot, pushing it most of the way in.
"Keep it there or you'll be sorry," he hissed and slapped my thigh as he went back to work. "And hurry with those potatoes!"
The pain was intense. The carrot felt monstrous. It felt like it was swelling and growing. I struggled not to expel it and fought back the tears as I tried to peel potatoes faster. I hurried but it felt like someone was continually jamming a stick up my ass.
The Red Devil stopped by close to noon. I felt pleased he'd wanted to check up on me. I'd long since finished the potatoes and the cook had me stirring a huge pot of stew. I was still standing on the box and he hadn't removed the carrot. I felt horribly embarrassed when the Red Devil immediately noticed it. He whispered something to the cook who laughed loudly. "No problem, captain. It'll be a pleasure!"
The captain left without a word to me and I spent the next half hour in an agony of suspense. What had he said to the cook? Was he pleased with me or not?
I found out soon enough what the captain had in mind. The cook approached me as the staff began preparations for serving the noon meal.
"You will serve the stew to the crew," he said. "We must get you ready."
I had only begun to wonder what obscenities he had in mind when he produced a couple lengths of fine chain connected to small wooden clamps. These he attached to the nipples of my breasts letting the chains dangle. The clamps hurt just enough to be annoying and noticeable. On the ends of the chains he affixed small lead weights that tugged at my breasts and made me groan.
Next, he took my long dark hair and tied a bow at the end with a small piece of cloth. He added another weight with the bow so that my hair felt heavy and hung down straight behind my back. When I moved I could feel the weight bouncing against my back.
Taking a couple leather cuffs he placed these around my ankles and connected them with a short length of chain. I was now tethered to myself, subject to taking only tiny baby steps when I walked.
But he had further indignities to inflict upon me. He now took a large carrot, one with a leafy green stalk, and ordered me to spread my legs wide. When I didn't move fast enough he slapped the inside of my right thigh very hard.
I opened my legs wide and he put his fingers against the lips of my secret entrance and opened me wide. I sensed what he was about to do and horror and disbelief filled me. I was too frightened to move.
A few years before this time a cousin of mine had gotten married. We'd traveled to Edinburough for the wedding. My cousin was only a few years older than me, and she confided with me her sexual experiences. Most of what I knew of men I had learned from her those few days before the wedding.
She had told me of men and women and sexual contact. At first I had not believed her. To demonstrate her point she had obtained a carrot from the kitchen and proceeded to insert it, first into herself, then into me. I had never in my wildest dreams imagined such a thing. She showed me how I could rub the carrot against my little nodule, bringing forth groans of intense pleasure. After than day I had, on occasion, duplicated the experiment with carrots and bananas and other items.
But except for that time with Lily, it had always been in private. I could not imagine wearing that carrot for others.
The cook shoved the carrot inside me, hard. I gasped and began to cry. He just laughed and slapped my rump. "Enjoy it girl, it'll be there long enough."
I looked down and was humiliated. Part of the carrot and the green stalk stuck out of me. As I moved around the kitchen I became more and more distraught. The weights pulled at my breasts and my nipples were so hard the clamps felt like a constant hard pinch. My hair was heavy and pulled my head back. But worst of all were the carrots, for the cook had not removed the one in my anus. The one between my legs gave me some pleasure as I moved but not enough to compensate for the indignities of walking with it. I abhorred the way it drew attention to my private area.
The cook had me carrying bowls of stew out to the crew. It was the most humiliating task I'd ever done. The sailors pinched and poked and patted me as I passed, pointing and whispering and admiring my body. My face was flushed with shame as I hurried back and forth between the kitchen and the dining area.
The bowels of stew were hot and once when I reacted to a particularly painful pinch I spilled a bowl on a sailor who leapt up and roared in anger. In a rage he slapped my face and then my breasts. I was too stunned to move. He took the bowel and poured the remains of the stew over my breasts.
The stew was a thick and tasteless mash. It slowly dripped across my chest, a large portion sliding between my breasts. It was hot but not boiling and did not burn me. The sailor reached out and with his hand spread the gooey mess all over my breasts.
The room roared with laughter. "Lick her off!" shouted someone and the sailor seemed to think this was an excellent idea. My stomach turned at seeing him approach, his tongue already halfway extended.
He licked me clean, eating the stew off my chest. He licked my breasts and my nipples, even biting my flesh occasionally, smiling as he inflicted pain and humiliation. Around me others pinched and slapped at my legs and buttocks, and there was no way I could escape. I stood patiently until the sailor was finished and then returned to the kitchen for more bowls.
That meal was the longest meal I ever endured. Many of the men were very hungry and asked for seconds. I was not allowed to eat but served the entire meal, rushing as best as I could, hampered by the carrots and chains. The leftover stew on my chest dried and grew sticky and I longed for another bath.
I after I had finished serving I was allowed to eat. The cook placed a bowl of stew at the center of a long table and I was forced to crawl the length of the table on my knees, my hands gripping the back of my neck.
Once I reached the stew I had to bend over and eat without using my hands. While I ate the cook praised my body and told the crew that I was the most marvelous "entertainment." Occasionally as he talked he would slap my rump or squeeze one of my breasts, purportedly to illustrate a point in one of his stories.
When I had finished the stew the cook had me stand of the table. All the sailors had gathered around and I was again astonished at the variety of personalities and body types represented.
But the cook now asked me if I wanted the carrot removed. I was unsure what answer to give so I told the truth: "Yes, please," I said.
I thought he would laugh and taunt me but instead he pulled the carrot out immediately. I felt grateful to him for a moment. Then he offered the carrot to my mouth and ordered me to eat it.
I almost vomited. The carrot was wet with my juices and the idea of eating it repulsed me. But the cook threatened to put it back if I did not eat it, so I took a bite and tried not to taste it. Somehow I managed to choke down that whole carrot. It was not really bad, but I was repulsed by the concept.
When the cook fed me the other carrot I was passed caring and swallowed it in one mouthful, grateful for the relief and ignoring the protests of my stomach.
After this the cook had me squat before the group of men and open my legs wide. He climbed onto the table beside me and swatted my buttocks with the paddle as he urged me to open wider.
I spread my legs in desperation, my face crimson. It was an awkward position and it made my legs and back ache, but I held it, groaning under the blows of the paddle, tears running down my face and chest and dripping towards my sex. I was completely exposed. Everyone could see that my private area was wet with desire and the men laughed and jeered and made lewd comments.
The cook made me walk in this position. Or waddle, I should say. He paddled me up and down the table so that all the men could get a closer look at me.
It was during this performance that the door opened and the Red Devil entered. I had my back to the doorway but the attitude of the men changed and I knew instantly that it was the captain. I could not turn around until the cook ordered me to, but when I saw the captain my heart almost stopped.
The Red Devil looked so handsome and well-groomed, especially after having spent an hour with the crude sailors. He had a large smile on his face and he told the cook to run me up and down the table once more so he could watch.
The cook's paddle was even more cruel while the captain watched, but my tears were happier ones because at least the Red Devil was there to enjoy my suffering. For him I felt I could endure anything, but for the cook and the other commoners I felt nothing but scorn and I felt shame simply being in their company.
After that final run to the end of the table and back the captain ordered the crew back to work and told the cook to leave me with him. Then he removed the weights from my breasts and gave them to the cook. The cook left, pleased that he had impressed the captain, but obviously jealous that I was no longer his to control.
I felt excitement at being alone with the captain. What was he going to do? What did he think of me? Did he care for me at all, or did he simply enjoy punishing me?
My mind whirled as he leapt up onto the table and approached. He ran his hands through my hair, smoothing and caressing it. When he reached the bow at the end he untied it and released the weight.
"You have lovely hair, Lady Sarah," he whispered.
"Yes, Captain," I said.
"You are learning beautifully!"
"Thank you, Captain," I said quietly. "I-I am not sure exactly what you intend for me, Captain. But I will try to cooperate and obey."
He smiled and my heart leaped to see him pleased. "What I intend for you, Lady Sarah, is for you to be my love slave." I looked at him blankly, not comprehending.
"You will obey my every command immediately and without hesitation. You will perform for myself or for the crew whenever I order it. You will suffer when I order you punished and you will accept your punishments with humility and the knowledge that every blow, every degradation, every slap, is exactly what you deserve.
"All this you will do in an effort to please me, and if you fail you will be punished most severely in ways you cannot yet imagine. From this moment on your life has no other meaning than to give me pleasure, whatever pleasure I seek, even if that pleasure is your own suffering. Do you understand?"
I looked at him wordless for a long time and slowly nodded. "Yes, my master," I whispered, not even realizing I hadn't called him captain. All I could think about was that he wanted me for himself. I would be his! This handsome, proud, strong, violent man wanted me, _me_! I felt I could endure anything for him. I wanted to please him. Just the thought of making him angry made me want to cry.
"Good," he said quietly. "I think we shall go to my cabin now. There is much for you to learn." With that he picked up that dreadful paddle and spanked me as I crawled on my hands and knees in front of him.
My heart was pounding as I crawled down the corridor. What was he going to do? What mysteries did his quarters contain? What were the lessons I needed to learn?
These and countless other questions whirled in my brain as I hurried toward my fate. But the realities of what was to happen to me on that ship I would never have believed if someone had told me in advance. In truth the events of the next few months would have been beyond my comprehension at the time.
To Be Continued...
.
Geri
www.bdsmfinder.com
After breakfast the captain gave me to the cabin boy. He was going to make sure I followed the captain's instructions. The first order of the day was a bath.
As the captain pointed out, most of the crew ignored bathing, but cultured women liked to feel clean. So Lady Leebury would be bathed each day after breakfast.
I was pleased about this at first, but even something as simple as a bath was not simple on a pirate ship. To begin, the bath was a public affair. Next, the water was cold sea water, and it was not heated. Finally, the cabin boy was given the arduous task of cleaning my body.
I stood in a tub at the bow of the ship while the cabin boy filled it with buckets of sea water pulled from shipside. I obediently held my hands over my head as he poured the cold water over my body. After my morning discipline I had no wish to anger the captain. I tried to ignore all the gawkers in the rigging and around the deck.
The cabin boy began to clean me. He used a rag and ran it over my body. There was no soap, but it was better than nothing. I was forced to remain motionless as he carefully washed my face and arms and neck, then my chest and breasts and back. He took special care cleaning my buttocks--it was obvious they were tender. The captain had given him some of the ointment, he told me, so after the bath he'd apply it.
As he washed me we began to talk. His name was Robb, he said, though no one called him anything but cabin boy. He'd ran away from home at nine because his father beat him so much. He'd been a stowaway on a ship that the pirates had attacked and he'd somehow convinced the Red Devil to let him join.
He dipped the cloth back into the water and began washing my legs. I could tell he was avoiding my crotch area as long as possible and that amused me. It seemed I had found someone, finally, that was more embarrassed than me!
"It's all right," I told him. I spread my legs a little so he could clean me better. He was fascinated by what he saw there, I could tell. "You've never seen a woman before, have you." It was a statement, not a question. He shook his head and blushed.
"I've been here since I was ten and we hardly ever get women. Few merchant ships have women on board and those that do usually kill 'em rather than let the Red Devil poke 'em."
"Well, explore away, young Robb. I've got no shame any more." That wasn't exactly true, I knew. My nudity was less shameful to me than before, true. But other things were even worse.
For instance, when we left the galley there was a huge crowd of men gathered outside the doorway. They had apparently heard the sounds of the paddling and come for a glimpse. And though I tried to walk proud and shameless I felt so humiliated when every man on the boat could see the evidence of my punishment. The captain had ordered that while I was on board I was to remain naked at all times and that I was to always walk with my hands behind my head so that everyone could see my body. There was no way to hide my red bottom from the men. I'm certain my face must have been nearly as red.
The cabin boy finished bathing me and poured another bucket of cold water over me to rinse me off. The salt water brought new life to the welts on my buttocks and I yelped a little. Then he used a large piece of cloth to dry me off.
Next he had me lie down on the foredeck and he spread the ointment on my buttocks. The ointment felt heavenly, but his every touch awoke all kinds of sensations. He was good--he massaged and kneaded the ointment into the flesh rather than simply spreading it across the surface, but every time he took his hands away my bottom burned.
When he had finished I felt very sleepy. "What's next?" I asked pleasantly.
"We go to the kitchen. You're to help prepare and serve lunch."
For an instant I thought about protesting but then I was quiet. "Whatever the captain wants," I whispered quietly.
At the kitchen I was given over to the custody of the cook. I hated him on sight. He was large, beefy man and he seemed unclean. He looked at me with such lecherous eyes he frightened me. He gripped my left breast in his huge hand and drooled as he tried to kiss me, waving the cabin boy away. "I'll take care of her, now, boy," he hissed.
Immediately he had me on my hands and knees scrubbing the filthy floor. He especially liked it when my face was low, so low my breasts would drag across the floor and my buttocks were high in the air behind me where he could get a better view. Whenever he thought I wasn't putting forth enough effort or wasn't low enough he'd smack my rump with his hand. Soon he decided that wasn't good enough so he switched to a wooden paddle. That way he could smack me without bending over.
It was miserable and degrading and I wept silently as I worked. The spanks were only occasional and didn't really hurt, but they weren't from the Red Devil, and that made me feel horrible.
After cleaning the floor I was put to work peeling potatoes and carrots. It was here the real cruelty and character of the cook became evident. He had made me stand on an old wooden box as I worked so that I had to bend over across the table. My breasts hung down and he would occasionally squeeze them or pinch my bottom.
At one point he told me I was working to slow and gave me a few cruel swats with the paddle, laughing as he did so. I tried to work faster but I had never peeled a potato in my life. I almost cut myself in my haste.
Exasperated, he came back again and I dreaded more spanking but instead he picked up a small carrot. The grin on his face made me freeze in fear. He came around behind me and suddenly he was opening my buttocks. He found my anus and plugged it soundly with the carrot, pushing it most of the way in.
"Keep it there or you'll be sorry," he hissed and slapped my thigh as he went back to work. "And hurry with those potatoes!"
The pain was intense. The carrot felt monstrous. It felt like it was swelling and growing. I struggled not to expel it and fought back the tears as I tried to peel potatoes faster. I hurried but it felt like someone was continually jamming a stick up my ass.
The Red Devil stopped by close to noon. I felt pleased he'd wanted to check up on me. I'd long since finished the potatoes and the cook had me stirring a huge pot of stew. I was still standing on the box and he hadn't removed the carrot. I felt horribly embarrassed when the Red Devil immediately noticed it. He whispered something to the cook who laughed loudly. "No problem, captain. It'll be a pleasure!"
The captain left without a word to me and I spent the next half hour in an agony of suspense. What had he said to the cook? Was he pleased with me or not?
I found out soon enough what the captain had in mind. The cook approached me as the staff began preparations for serving the noon meal.
"You will serve the stew to the crew," he said. "We must get you ready."
I had only begun to wonder what obscenities he had in mind when he produced a couple lengths of fine chain connected to small wooden clamps. These he attached to the nipples of my breasts letting the chains dangle. The clamps hurt just enough to be annoying and noticeable. On the ends of the chains he affixed small lead weights that tugged at my breasts and made me groan.
Next, he took my long dark hair and tied a bow at the end with a small piece of cloth. He added another weight with the bow so that my hair felt heavy and hung down straight behind my back. When I moved I could feel the weight bouncing against my back.
Taking a couple leather cuffs he placed these around my ankles and connected them with a short length of chain. I was now tethered to myself, subject to taking only tiny baby steps when I walked.
But he had further indignities to inflict upon me. He now took a large carrot, one with a leafy green stalk, and ordered me to spread my legs wide. When I didn't move fast enough he slapped the inside of my right thigh very hard.
I opened my legs wide and he put his fingers against the lips of my secret entrance and opened me wide. I sensed what he was about to do and horror and disbelief filled me. I was too frightened to move.
A few years before this time a cousin of mine had gotten married. We'd traveled to Edinburough for the wedding. My cousin was only a few years older than me, and she confided with me her sexual experiences. Most of what I knew of men I had learned from her those few days before the wedding.
She had told me of men and women and sexual contact. At first I had not believed her. To demonstrate her point she had obtained a carrot from the kitchen and proceeded to insert it, first into herself, then into me. I had never in my wildest dreams imagined such a thing. She showed me how I could rub the carrot against my little nodule, bringing forth groans of intense pleasure. After than day I had, on occasion, duplicated the experiment with carrots and bananas and other items.
But except for that time with Lily, it had always been in private. I could not imagine wearing that carrot for others.
The cook shoved the carrot inside me, hard. I gasped and began to cry. He just laughed and slapped my rump. "Enjoy it girl, it'll be there long enough."
I looked down and was humiliated. Part of the carrot and the green stalk stuck out of me. As I moved around the kitchen I became more and more distraught. The weights pulled at my breasts and my nipples were so hard the clamps felt like a constant hard pinch. My hair was heavy and pulled my head back. But worst of all were the carrots, for the cook had not removed the one in my anus. The one between my legs gave me some pleasure as I moved but not enough to compensate for the indignities of walking with it. I abhorred the way it drew attention to my private area.
The cook had me carrying bowls of stew out to the crew. It was the most humiliating task I'd ever done. The sailors pinched and poked and patted me as I passed, pointing and whispering and admiring my body. My face was flushed with shame as I hurried back and forth between the kitchen and the dining area.
The bowels of stew were hot and once when I reacted to a particularly painful pinch I spilled a bowl on a sailor who leapt up and roared in anger. In a rage he slapped my face and then my breasts. I was too stunned to move. He took the bowel and poured the remains of the stew over my breasts.
The stew was a thick and tasteless mash. It slowly dripped across my chest, a large portion sliding between my breasts. It was hot but not boiling and did not burn me. The sailor reached out and with his hand spread the gooey mess all over my breasts.
The room roared with laughter. "Lick her off!" shouted someone and the sailor seemed to think this was an excellent idea. My stomach turned at seeing him approach, his tongue already halfway extended.
He licked me clean, eating the stew off my chest. He licked my breasts and my nipples, even biting my flesh occasionally, smiling as he inflicted pain and humiliation. Around me others pinched and slapped at my legs and buttocks, and there was no way I could escape. I stood patiently until the sailor was finished and then returned to the kitchen for more bowls.
That meal was the longest meal I ever endured. Many of the men were very hungry and asked for seconds. I was not allowed to eat but served the entire meal, rushing as best as I could, hampered by the carrots and chains. The leftover stew on my chest dried and grew sticky and I longed for another bath.
I after I had finished serving I was allowed to eat. The cook placed a bowl of stew at the center of a long table and I was forced to crawl the length of the table on my knees, my hands gripping the back of my neck.
Once I reached the stew I had to bend over and eat without using my hands. While I ate the cook praised my body and told the crew that I was the most marvelous "entertainment." Occasionally as he talked he would slap my rump or squeeze one of my breasts, purportedly to illustrate a point in one of his stories.
When I had finished the stew the cook had me stand of the table. All the sailors had gathered around and I was again astonished at the variety of personalities and body types represented.
But the cook now asked me if I wanted the carrot removed. I was unsure what answer to give so I told the truth: "Yes, please," I said.
I thought he would laugh and taunt me but instead he pulled the carrot out immediately. I felt grateful to him for a moment. Then he offered the carrot to my mouth and ordered me to eat it.
I almost vomited. The carrot was wet with my juices and the idea of eating it repulsed me. But the cook threatened to put it back if I did not eat it, so I took a bite and tried not to taste it. Somehow I managed to choke down that whole carrot. It was not really bad, but I was repulsed by the concept.
When the cook fed me the other carrot I was passed caring and swallowed it in one mouthful, grateful for the relief and ignoring the protests of my stomach.
After this the cook had me squat before the group of men and open my legs wide. He climbed onto the table beside me and swatted my buttocks with the paddle as he urged me to open wider.
I spread my legs in desperation, my face crimson. It was an awkward position and it made my legs and back ache, but I held it, groaning under the blows of the paddle, tears running down my face and chest and dripping towards my sex. I was completely exposed. Everyone could see that my private area was wet with desire and the men laughed and jeered and made lewd comments.
The cook made me walk in this position. Or waddle, I should say. He paddled me up and down the table so that all the men could get a closer look at me.
It was during this performance that the door opened and the Red Devil entered. I had my back to the doorway but the attitude of the men changed and I knew instantly that it was the captain. I could not turn around until the cook ordered me to, but when I saw the captain my heart almost stopped.
The Red Devil looked so handsome and well-groomed, especially after having spent an hour with the crude sailors. He had a large smile on his face and he told the cook to run me up and down the table once more so he could watch.
The cook's paddle was even more cruel while the captain watched, but my tears were happier ones because at least the Red Devil was there to enjoy my suffering. For him I felt I could endure anything, but for the cook and the other commoners I felt nothing but scorn and I felt shame simply being in their company.
After that final run to the end of the table and back the captain ordered the crew back to work and told the cook to leave me with him. Then he removed the weights from my breasts and gave them to the cook. The cook left, pleased that he had impressed the captain, but obviously jealous that I was no longer his to control.
I felt excitement at being alone with the captain. What was he going to do? What did he think of me? Did he care for me at all, or did he simply enjoy punishing me?
My mind whirled as he leapt up onto the table and approached. He ran his hands through my hair, smoothing and caressing it. When he reached the bow at the end he untied it and released the weight.
"You have lovely hair, Lady Sarah," he whispered.
"Yes, Captain," I said.
"You are learning beautifully!"
"Thank you, Captain," I said quietly. "I-I am not sure exactly what you intend for me, Captain. But I will try to cooperate and obey."
He smiled and my heart leaped to see him pleased. "What I intend for you, Lady Sarah, is for you to be my love slave." I looked at him blankly, not comprehending.
"You will obey my every command immediately and without hesitation. You will perform for myself or for the crew whenever I order it. You will suffer when I order you punished and you will accept your punishments with humility and the knowledge that every blow, every degradation, every slap, is exactly what you deserve.
"All this you will do in an effort to please me, and if you fail you will be punished most severely in ways you cannot yet imagine. From this moment on your life has no other meaning than to give me pleasure, whatever pleasure I seek, even if that pleasure is your own suffering. Do you understand?"
I looked at him wordless for a long time and slowly nodded. "Yes, my master," I whispered, not even realizing I hadn't called him captain. All I could think about was that he wanted me for himself. I would be his! This handsome, proud, strong, violent man wanted me, _me_! I felt I could endure anything for him. I wanted to please him. Just the thought of making him angry made me want to cry.
"Good," he said quietly. "I think we shall go to my cabin now. There is much for you to learn." With that he picked up that dreadful paddle and spanked me as I crawled on my hands and knees in front of him.
My heart was pounding as I crawled down the corridor. What was he going to do? What mysteries did his quarters contain? What were the lessons I needed to learn?
These and countless other questions whirled in my brain as I hurried toward my fate. But the realities of what was to happen to me on that ship I would never have believed if someone had told me in advance. In truth the events of the next few months would have been beyond my comprehension at the time.
To Be Continued...
.
Geri
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