Octoberqueenofhearts
Virgin
- Joined
- Jul 5, 2021
- Posts
- 10
No longer looking.
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"You're always losing the kitchen utensils," Sir said. He attached strings on the top of my ears with clothespins. At the other ends he attached a spoon and a fork. My ears folded over like pig's ears.I am looking for someone to write a story with me, about a Dom and sub at sea. Preferably someone with a sadistic streak.
Note that I am not looking for a relationship or to do tasks, but to write chapters back and forth.
I always loved the warmth of the sun on my bare skin. It wasn't scorching today, it was just the right amount of heat tempered by the cool breeze. I could hear the faint, soca like music of the Bahamas in the distance, no doubt it came from enthusiastic locals waiting to offer services to incoming tourists to the Port.
My face began to tingle and I was glad that my eyes were covered, I couldn't see the faces that would be filled with confusion, amusement or even disgust. My body swayed gently with the soft ripples of the sea, the boat trying to come to a halt as it anchored. I steadied myself but I was pretty stable, my arms outstretched and fastened to the mast and a stake that Sir had installed. My legs remained apart with the spreader bars to their maximum, but additional chains prevented me from buckling over.
At some time during the night I felt like my shoulders would dislocate, and it made sleeping difficult. I felt like hell, but I had to pay for being such a disobedient slut, he said. Why did I have to sneak in a few minutes of touching with the new vibrator we picked up in St Lucia, before he got a chance to try it out. Now I was naked and exhausted, a Vesuvian woman on display.
Despite my discomfort, I was aware of cunt juices leaking down my thigh. Overnight some had dried and become sticky, but I felt fresh streams seeping out. Maybe it was the thought of being seen by strangers, Sir said I would be introduced to the island for the whore that I was. Surely I would feel ashamed and always be aware of the first impression I had made upon arrival. Instead I felt a rush, a mix of excitement and nervousness at how I would face everyone for our one week stay on the island.
I heard laughter as I felt the Yacht stop. Again my face tingled with embarrassment but I let my mind wander back to last night, a coping mechanism for those uncertain moments when I didn't know how to feel.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"
Sir's voice boomed through the enclosed walls around us. I was supposed to be making tacos for dinner, but I got distracted. That sometimes happens mid cycle, when my hormones take over and it's more difficult for me to obey his no touching rule. I was just curious, opening up the vibrator and letting it caress my hardened nipples and wet cunt lips.
"Come here." He said, his eyes narrowing as he pointed to a spot in front of the bed. He took a seat on it, so we were eye level. I looked at the ground and undressed as I learnt to do, when he was about to deal my punishment.
He continued in a hushed tone, which scared me to death.
"I don't know what to do with you. Look at your back, still red and striped from your whipping yesterday. Maybe you need something more to teach you a lesson, you stupid bitch."
With that he ran his hand over my back, which caused me to wince in pain. Then a firm slap to my cheek.
"Bring me the knife."
I did, handing the threatening blade over to him shakily. He held it firmly, undressing and sliding up naked to the top of the bed.
"Come here."
I obeyed, crawling up to him and kneeling. My heart pounder in my ears.
He grabbed my hair and wrapped it around his large hand, pulling firmly so that my head jerked back. He spun me around so that my back was to him, and my legs spread eagled.
"Such a desperate, fucking slut. Now for your punishment." He whispered in my ear.
With that, I felt the pressure of his hard cock head pushing against my tight hole, coupled with the cold metal of the blade against my nipple.
"Now don't complain it hurts, you want this. Now fuck me like you do or you know you could lose a nipple."
The tears flowed as inch by inch he entered me, the blade pressing harder and his hand assaulting my other nipple. Twisting, pulling, wringing.
I began to ride him, pushing him further in, letting my body rub desperately against his. Now he was enjoying it, breathing harder and grunting. His hand had left my other nipple and now grabbed my throat, choking me.
I ignored the immense pressure of his cock splitting my small frame, and gyrated on him. He approved, pulling me even closer. But all the while I was aware that one wrong move would give me a slice from the blade.
Maybe I was a stupid slut.
"Permission to touch Sir, please."
And so I was granted and fingered myself into a frenzy while he pumped my ass full of his hot, creamy cum. In the moment, the blade left its mark and blood leaked from my dark areola. Sir pushed me down, flipped me over and flicked my nipple, before making me clean up.
The laughter continued and I realised I was the joke as I heard tidbits of the nearby conversation. Obviously, the word SLUT that had been branded on my ass from sunburn would have raised some eyebrows. That wasn't fun being out on the deck in the blazing sun for 8 hours to get the word perfectly done on my caramel skin. Or was it my nakedness, the blindfold, the red welts on my skin, the nipple clamps or the bruises?