We had jumped off from the western side of the Panama Canal and were 8 days into the passage to the Marquesas. It was a beautiful day, the wind was running on a comfortable beam reach. The sun was shining brightly and the seas were relatively calm — only a little bounce now and then. Not too bad for me, but hell on Holly. She was tied to the mast. Arms stretched above her head by a special halyard I had installed. Not to hoist sails but slaves. Her waist was loosely secured to the mast so she didn’t move around too much. But she was on her knees, so every bounce the boat took, she had to hurt. Yet, the site of her bare breasts bouncing each time was very entertaining — to me. Her feet were pulled to the other side of the mast and bound.
I’m not intentionally cruel to my slaves, but she had screwed up in the Galley last night and was now paying for her sins. An entire day on the mast. It did include a break every 4 hours (8 bells) for getting some life back in her limbs plus water and food. Oh, and a spanking across my knee. Delicious.
I had started out from Fort Lauderdale and was headed around the world. A 57 foot catamaran named “Blue River Two.” Large and comfortable, yet fast and agile. I could have handled it by myself, but the addition of three young female slaves made the trip most interesting. It had taken 6 months to process all the applications of submissives interested in taking the trip, Finding three that fit my particular tastes and desires wasn’t that hard. Finding three that could also sail, that’s what took so long.
Shipboard life had settled into a comfortable set of routines. Each had training they needed to complete, studies they wanted to pursue, we had tons of duties to attend to each day, but it still left me plenty of time to pursue my own research and writing — plus playtime several times a day.
So far, I had not needed to issue such severe punishment as Holly was experiencing at the moment. Yet her bad cooking had started her down her path. But it was the failure to turn off the propane valves, which put us all in danger, is the reason for the severe nature of being stretched all day, spanked every four hours, buggered without lubrication other than her own spit, and the severe whipping that would end the session tonight. To those not sailors, propane is the death of many boats when not properly handled. She had endangered us all.
Andrea and Terry went about their daytime duties with grace, trying to ignore (and failing) Holly and her plight. The mood on the boat that day was not good. Everyone, including Holly, realized the danger she had subjected us to. Yet, each knew that they might screw up at any time and suffer a similar fate. I was going to have to take Holly off watch and other duties for the next few days so she could recover. The sunburn alone was going to be bad, but the stress to her body was going to make her hurt for a long time.
I was “at the helm” at the moment. Yet, with the autopilot, there was very little to do, other than the hourly navigation and log update — and the ever constant scan of the boat, the water, and the skies for signs of problems. We had GPS and computer plotters and such. Yet, I still took Noon and Midnight sightings with a sextant, did the reductions by hand (with the reduction tables — I’m not a complete whiz), and kept a dead reckoning track on the paper charts. The log entries were automatically uploaded to my personal website. The general stuff available to all visitors to the site. The special notes on training, punishments, and such — with photos and videos — was only available to a select few of my inner circle. They also had access to a set of web cameras around the boat, including two focused on poor Holly.
Bam. We took another wave into the side of the boat. I looked up just in time to see a delightful bounce of Holly’s tits and the pain in her face when her knees slammed back into the deck. This is the first time I had had to be this extreme. Normally, time “at the mast” was standing, stretched out, lashed at the waist and feet. It was a lovely site to have all three that way.
Looking back into the cockpit, Andrea was on her hands and knees scrubbing the deck. Oh, the constant maintenance of a slave ship. She was facing away from me at the moment, her full ass waving back and forth as she scrubbed. I watched for a few minutes and felt myself harden. She’s a beautiful 23 year old brunette with a killer figure. Large, lush breasts that do not flatten out, no matter the position I put her in. I can’t stand it any more, watching her work. I grab a few pieces of rope (always an reason to have rope laying around a sailboat) and move towards her. Before she notices me, I am over her, pull her arms back, forcing her head to the deck, and quickly bind her hands behind her back.
“Ouf…” Is all that comes out her mouth before I shoved a piece of cloth in as a gag. I tie another piece of the rope to the bindings on her hand, pull them up and away from her body towards her head and tie them off to a cleat. Why aren’t more BDSM people into sailing — it’s a natural environment for it — all the ropes and tie-off points.
She knows enough not to move. I bend her lower legs up to her thighs and bind them with other pieces of rope. Then use longer pieces to secure her. I pull the cushions off the settee and push them under her stomach. I reach down and check that sweet pussy and she is juicy already. Damn, she loves this and is already waving her hips around. I plunge into her pussy full length in one stroke, pull out, and position myself for my ultimate destination. She relaxes her ass and slightly pushes out allowing me an easy penetration of her sphincter. The head of my prick is in heaven. It’s not punishment time, so I wait until she starts to push back on me, then I push all the way in. I don’t even have to move. The spasms form her first orgasm are enough to squeeze and ripple all over my cock.
After two eternities and she calms down and I began a slow withdrawal. As soon as I was almost out of her sheath, I slowly pushed back in. All her muscles were quivering, building to another orgasm. Damn, this girl loves ass fucking almost as much as cunt fucking. It’s ten times as intense when she is bound. Although I had buggered Holly only an hour before, it didn’t take me 20 strokes and I was filling Andrea’s bowels with my cum.
I stayed in her until I shrank, delighted in the movement of her muscles as she milked every drop out of me. God, she was still cumming! Her pussy juices had dripped and squirted all over the deck. Just as my dick popped out, she convulsed and shot a stream of she-cum almost three feet! Fucking this one required plastic sheets or a fiberglass deck! I’ve had contests with the other two to see which one of them could make her shoot the furthest. I’m still the record holder!
I staggered back to the helm seat, I plopped down. Looking into the cabin, I called to Terry. She knew her duty and immediately came out into the cockpit (ah, sailors are such an interesting bunch with their names) and proceeded to clean my cock completely, including all of Terry’s fluids that had splattered my balls, ass, and legs. When I signaled I was happy with her work, she immediately dropped behind Andrea and cleaned out her ass and pussy. When she thought she might be done, she turned and looked at me. I nodded an approval — they were well trained by this point — and she untied Andrea. The two proceeded to carefully clean the deck of Andrea’s cum with their mouths.
Just watching this, I was hard again. Holly’s next punishment was a bit off, so I motioned Terry over. Without the slightest hesitation, she knee walked over to me, put her hands behind her back, and took all of my cock into her mouth. God, she has a magickal mouth — she took me all the way in and into her throat. The swallowing action she used to control the gag reflex was incredible. I must have grown another 10 inches, it seemed, as she licked, sucked, and caressed my member all the way in and then pulled all the way out to lick the head, tease the pee hole, lick my balls, then engulf me again. She knew that I had just cracked a huge nut, after all she had sucked it out of Andrea, so she teased and manipulated me — provided the most stimulation possible, working towards the moment. Her menstruations finally had the desired effect, my balls started to boil. She felt it and took me all the way down and held me while her throat did it’s magick.
God, Terry can hold her breath. Less than a minute later, holding off as long as I could, I shot repeatedly into that milking machine. She was so well trained she had a massive orgasm at the same time that just added to my pleasure. Just before my toenails, hat, and sunglasses came out of the end of my pumping cock, I collapsed. While she delicately cleaned me off (none of my cum had escaped her talented mouth), Andrea cleaned her and the deck off.
When my vision returned, I looked up just as another wave hit. Holly’s tits did another wonderful bounce. Her face then contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure. Shit, was she getting off on being “at the mast”? Around the World: Not Alone