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Review This Story || Author: Eve Adorer

2084

Chapter 8 The Tempest

2084 (by Eve Adorer)

Chapter 8 – The Tempest

Amanda's body still bore the evidence of her public flogging with a vicious violent viper of a vivacious vibrant vituperative cane. It was but 36-hours later, and she was for sale to the highest bidder, her ownership having transferred to the state once she had been found guilty of the crime of being the motor within a girl-car with illegally bald tyres.

Amanda being already a slave, the state could take ownership of her without recompense to her former owner. This was considered to be punishment to her owner for having let her “goods” (i.e. her slave) break the law. The proceeds from Amanda's sale would go toward offsetting the cost of her imprisonment, and contribute to a “whipping bounty”: to award the girl who had whipped her.

Amanda's supreme dream brown body was completely naked. As she paraded in a barbed wire surrounded square cage for her would-be buyers to assess her, her lovely full fulsome breasts flowing freely, her poor bottom, with its multiple ridged stripes from her recent frequent flagellation, still enticed with the spice of its mysterious rhythmic rhythm, as it rolled with her almost preternatural come-hither girl-gait: her lovely mouth with composed lips seemingly screaming “kiss me”: her supremely lovely dark-brown eyes showing the painful lessons in life she was learning from having been born to live in post 2084 Britain.

“Everything must go ladies!” called the auctioneeress.

“Everything must go!”

“This is lot number 362436, Amanda Heavensent. Amanda is aged 20, an exceptionally attractive purebred negress. Amanda has a fabulous D-cup 40-inch chest, an incredible 22-inch waist, and measures a perfect 36-inches around that truly lovely bottom. She's five-feet-ten-inches tall, and now weighs-in at a wonderful 105-pounds. As you can see ladies, she is strong and fit, with beautiful and powerful legs. You could absolutely certainly say, without the slightest fear of contradiction: 105 pounds of 100 percent pure unadulterated girl.”

“Use her as a pet: would she not make you proud as you walked her around Mayfair on her lead?! Use her as a pony for your trap: think of those lovely legs trotting you shopping! Buy her as a present for your daughter: what a birthday treat for the fourteen-year-old schoolgirl just learning the thrills of lovemaking, and needing something to practice on!”

“Amanda has brains as well as beauty: use her in that laboratory – remember, you don't have to pay a wage let alone a pension, and you can throw her away when she's worn out!”

“Amanda has experience as a personal maid and as a girl-car motor. She is still in lactation: so you could use her as a kitchen cow, or to make your friends jealous by serving her pure negress' milk and wine at that important dinner party to impress the new boss, or to make that crucial sale!”

“What do I hear for this delightful creature: shall we say………5-dollars?”

The bidding went slowly as Amanda strolled on display, stealing the show. Behind her lovely face, in mask, she hid the hurt that her first love, Rosetta, had been sold earlier for 10-dollars to become a sheepgirl on a sheepgirl farm, where she would be kept and sheared of all her hair twice a year, so it could be sold to wig-makers, with her wine as a side venture, and her tits being brought on to milk, so as to help feed Rosetta herself and the other sheepgirls in the herd, at least partly self-sufficiently.

“15-dollars?! 15-dollars?! Do I hear any advance on 15-dollars?”

“20-dollars! Now that's more like it”

“20-dollars?!

20-dollars?!

Do I hear any advance on 20-dollars?”

“Come now ladies: look at that lovely mouth and those divine lips………….No more bids?

“No more bids for this heavenly creation with the oh so apt surname?”

“Going for 20-dollars, then?”

“Going for 20-dollars, for the first time.”

“Going for 20-dollars, for the second time.”

“Gone! Sold for 20-dollars to the attractive young lady with the monocle!” came the knock of the auctioneeress' gavel in parallel to the “gone”, a hammer-blow to Amanda's tearful heart.

………..“Next is lot number 362437, an extremely shapely very tall hazel-eyed blonde, with an exceptionally petit kissable mouth, and incredible long-long-leggy-legs: a Russian girl: a one-time world tennis champion, Maria Shared Dreamvauckel by name. She is, I'm told, by the equally lovely Miss Semenova, capable of producing a demitasse of incredibly fine divinely flavoursome full-bodied mellow-yellow wine. Miss Semenova would know of course, as she once insisted Maria surrender this whilst still hot and sweaty, to thoroughly humiliate her, before they shared their shower and their loving mouths, just after Maria had been thoroughly soundly beaten by Miss Semenova in a vigorous three-set game on court at Juliana Larose in Paris back in 2082……..”

…………………

The ever-refilling hopper of coal was behind her, the furnace doors before, the sergeantesses' strap-whip had kissed Amanda's bare back with the frequency of hell. Around her neck she wore a steel collar with a long chain running to the hoop in the steel deck to which she was anchored, on her feet she wore heelless balletising tiptoe shoes so as to, purely coincidentally, maximise her decorativeness, for the new owner of this huge sea-going yacht - Cecile Mondelicuer-Meed-Arbinthrope. The Duchess Infanta Cecile Mondelicuer-Meed-Arbinthrope of Tiapaolin, no less - liked even the lowest of her navygirls on her yacht to look sexy. Even so, the shoes Amanda wore were, in the facts of the case, and in Girl-Navy parlance: “Shoes - pair - leg shape enhancing - balletic - universal-size - sailor bottom class - standard female”.

With the but tremendous heat from the furnace, even with its never-satisfied maw not presently open to beg for more coal, Amanda was naked for coolness. Her lovely body shimmering with its perspiration lubrication, and the occasional trickle-diamondic-pearl of girl-sweat that rolled down her supremely soft brown skin.

Amanda licked her dry lips, her perfect perfection-of-the-kiss lips: she longed for water.

A hiss was heard. Horrible humid yellow sun-strong glowing radiant heat brightened the room. The top and bottom jaw-doors of the boilers' furnace had slid vertically open. Amanda shovelled coal from the hopper into the jaws of the burning hellfire in which even her brown body glowed for the moments before the jaws that were doors closed again, reflecting flickering yellow gold and red.

Amanda was being punished for being found too attractive.

…………………

Amanda's shaven cunt sweated in the unyieldingly close-woven material of her cheap nylon navy-blue tanga-knickers. Her free-flowing breasts bobbed up-and-down provocatively in the blue-and-white-hoop-striped standard-issue contour-clinging sailor's short-sleeved nylon tee-shirt, which clung close to outline her significantly mountainous frontal protrusions. This was her uniform top leaving bare her excelling excellent midriff, showing her supremely flat smooth belly.

These, along with a miniscule crimson-red nylon micro-miniskirt, an American-style sailor's hat in white nylon, and her navy-blue nylon tip-top-of-tiptoe-enforcing balletic shoes, her white nylon stockings hanging from her nylon suspenders, the stockings' tops clearly stretched openly visibly below the hem of her tiny skirt: these were the all of Amanda's uniform: her traditional, patriotic, and very becoming red white and blue Girl-Navy uniform.

Amanda had been bought at auction by the monocled Cecile Mondelicuer-Meed-Arbinthrope, who had decided she would make a decorative cabin-girl on her yacht the SS [Steam-Ship] Naughtylass. Cecile's mummy had bought this yacht for herself, become bored with it, and past it on to her youngest daughter. Cecile had been sweet and gentle to Amanda, even though Amanda was one of “the lower orders”.

Amanda knew her place and how lucky she was to have such a gentle and kind purchaser. Amanda also knew that she was now under navygirl discipline, and that the captain of this vessel, the ship on which Amanda served, could order her punished for the least infringement of the Girl-Navy code.

Amanda had accepted the Queen's cent: she was in the British Navy. Cecile had had enough compassion to use her influence to free Amanda from slavery, but Amanda had been obliged in exchange, to sign up as a cabin-girl in the Girl-Navy. For this, Amanda would be paid one-dollar a week, receive one free meal per day, and be provided with uniform. She would also receive training, including combat drill, and be subject to the Girl-Navy disciplinary code: the so-called “Queen's Regulations”.

Living in the peaceful world of post 2084 Britain, the British navy no longer had any of its own ships. Instead, as its only preparation for the remote possibility of the return of war, its sailoresses were “boarded out” free-of-charge, to sail the private yachts of the wealthy, such as Cecile, so as to keep in training, and because such vessels could and would be commandeered and adapted for war in the event such trouble ever arose again.

As another money-saving device, the post 2084 navy was also now all-female, as it could be girled so readily and so cheaply by slaves, or freed slaves such as Amanda, who would be only too glad that they were not driven to the alternative desperation and degradation of prostituting themselves to their fellow girls, or being bound up as a triple-orifice fuck-provider in a brothel.

…………………

Amanda was released from stoker duties at Cecile's insistence. Cecile explained to the captain that it was she, Cecile, who had initiated the attempted kiss, and that Amanda was blameless.

“It was just that she looked so demnebly sexy, and one was jaast an incey-wincey bit tiddleypoos on the old girl-champers, don't yer know. It wasn't the little gels fault. Oh no: it wasn't the little gels fault at all: what”, Cecile had explained disdainfully superiorly.

Name rank and number Amanda Heavensent: Cabin-Girl Bottom-Class: 362436 (with the emphasis decidedly on her wickedly sexy bottom where Amanda was concerned), was therefore once more free to wiggle the decks in her navygirl uniform; but Amanda knew that she could not expect Cecile to get her out of every scrape.

………………

Amanda still bore a heavy heart and a torch of love that shone for Michaela Redhead. If anything, and as such things are so often fuelled by perversity, the adversity of being completely ignored by Michaela had only fuelled Amanda's sweet natured love and gentle desire.

Amanda knew that Michaela was on-board the SS Naughtylass. She had heard her seniors talk of Michaela being confined to her cabin until the vessel was outside British territorial waters for certain, and that there was some kind of scandal attendant upon Michaela's presence. Something had been said about Michaela starting a new life in the New World.

………………

Professor Michaela Redhead had indeed experienced a very heavy fall from society's highest pinnacle. Arrested for soliciting in the pink light district of Glasgow, Michaela's explanation that she had been carrying out academic research; had not seen it as either right or proper to ask any of her students to run the risks in the experiment she was conducting; and had therefore put herself in the position of guinea pig, had been all but laughed out of court.

That nobody in fact dare laugh at what Michaela had been caught doing, or her explanation of why she had been doing it, was the result of her being a member of the Clitton Club. By now, of course, that should read, “former member of the Clitton Club”, as Michaela had been obliged to tender her resignation from the associate membership she had been so very proud to have attained.

Michaela's friendship with such an influential family as the Mondelicuer-Meed-Arbinthropes, and Cecile in particular, had saved her from a public flogging to go with her disgrace.

Constabless Miranda Fulsome of the Girl-Police had made Michaela's arrest. Miranda had been overjoyed at, at long last, “nailing a toff” as she put it.

Knowing how easily her metaphorical fish might escape the hook, Miranda had, she thought, been scrupulously careful with all the paperwork, and the arrest proceedings, and the interrogation, so as to ensure she gave no ammunition for clever lawyers to “Houdini” Michaela out from under the legal system.

At the news that Michaela had been sentenced to twenty lashes, Miranda had hit the roof with a scream of joy that she could avenge her sister for this bitch, Michaela, and her palls at the Clitton Club, having nearly drowned Apina for the pleasure of tasting her kid-sister's fear wine.

A girl already very strong and very fit, as Amanda's sexy buttocks could once have testified, Constabless Miranda Fulsome had doubled and then doubled-again her fitness and training regimes, so as to be as ready as she was determined to be, for Michaela's punishment. And she had begged to be on whipperess duty that day.

But Miranda had not reckoned on the slipperiness of a Chief of Police looking for re-election, in a city in which the Mondelicuer-Meed-Arbinthropes held overwhelming sway.

The technicality that Miranda had not been in proper uniform, because she had forgotten to put on her police-girl's cap as she got out of the girl-car patrol vehicle, and thus that she had not properly legally cautioned Michaela at Michaela's arrest, saw Michaela released, and a very angry constabless wreck the precinct locker-room on hearing the news, that: “the fuckin' bitch toff has got fuckin' clean off!!” as was barely decipherable what Miranda was bawling from within her angry beyond anger screams of frustration.

The fact that the security camera video that purported to show this error on Miranda's part had very clearly been very amateurishly doctored from footage at a different time and place, angered Miranda beyond measure.

……………….

Cabin-Girl Bottom-Class Amanda Heavensent tried so hard not to be sexy, but with a face and body and legs like hers, such was completely impossible.

As the SS Naughtylass sailed into the Atlantic beyond Ireland on a humid day, Amanda's nylon clad body glowed where it was exposed, with a halo of her perspiration, and she could feel tiny rivulets of her sweet sweat trickling the supreme contours of her bottom, naked and boldly thrusting from the tanga-panties beneath her nylon micro-skirt, in her close-clinging (god how lucky for it: and how!) nylon uniform.

Amanda moistened her lips with her pointed pink tongue. There were one-hundred civilian berths on the ship, and she had just completed tidying the bedding and cleaning, all one-hundred cabins. She now had the cabins of the ten officers and fifty crew to perform the same duties within, and must then repair to the galley where it was her shared duty to prepare three meals per day for the 160 combined crew and passengers, to serve them at table with both food and wine, to clear the dining area and wash the crockery and utensils after every meal, and then to serve as a waitress in the, fortunately, neighbouring, officer and passenger lounges, fetching and carrying drinks and side meals to order.

Other sailoresses bottom class, worked the ship's laundry and scrubbed the decks, the latter wagging their provocative bottoms side-to-side, as they knelt huge thighed, stripped to the waist, working their scrubbing brushes two-too-pretty-handed back and forth, with their titties swinging side-to-side like wild silent church bells.

Amanda was worked unmercifully, and yet must pick her deliciously delightfully dainty very leggy way among the passengers lounging in their bikinis on the deck, whilst she and her fellow sailoresses hurried hither and yon always all ways on duty.

At work from dawn to midnight, the sailoresses were also expected to keep watch in turn during the night hours, and woe betide the sailor-girl who fell asleep from her exhaustion.

Amanda continued to be supreme dream girl, leaving total devastation in her wake, as she wiggled by with her rear undulating and swinging from her ultra-feminine walk, with each tiptoed foot neatly placed exactly in front of the other, as her gorgeous legs carried her with the carriage of a queen, and the gait of a gazelle, about her duties: a true transport of delight: 105-pounds of unambiguously unadulterated undiluted unsurpassable unequivocally undoubted girl.

…………………..

“Panties Off!” was one of the drills the sailoresses were obliged to perform every evening. It was a requirement of the British Girl-Navy, that a sailoress wearing the standard issue miniskirt must be able to take off her navy issue nylon tanga-panties in no more than three seconds.

In the modern British Girl-Navy, achievement of “Panties Off!” in two-seconds or under was commonplace, since the backroom scientists had come up with the “mark-two panties”, with their waxed bow-ribboned side-strings, that were guaranteed to undo instantly, when the built-in tassel dangling ever-ready from the panties gusset was tugged firmly by the wearer.

In this sense at least, Amanda had been fortunate in the timing of her entry into the Girl-Navy, as the mark-two panties had become standard issue. She had therefore immediately learned the new “Panties Off!” drill. She had also not had to re-learn, as longer-serving girls had had to, how to obey the order: “Present Panties!”

With the “mark-one panties”, the order “Present Panties!” could only be properly fulfilled by the sailoress holding her removed panties at the tip of her extended right hand forefinger, with the panties held by their gusset at her chin's height, so that they could be collected as she stood to attention on parade at the end of the day.

With the mark-two panties, the undoing of the side-strings when the girl ripped her panties off, left her panties collapsed from panty-shape formation. Accordingly, a new drill had had to be devised with the issue of the mark-two panties, and Queen's Regulations now decreed that: “Present Panties!” would be fulfilled by the sailoress holding her removed panties dangling from the gusset pull-string, twixt her right-hand's finger and thumb, at the height of the top of her right breast.

The navy blue nylon tangas that Amanda and her fellow sailoresses had worn all day, up to their hearing and instantly obeying the orders: “Panties Off!” and: “Present Panties!”, would be advertised on the internet as: “genuinely worn, still warm, British sailoresses' panties” and thus sold to girls all over the world, delivered by air, having been preserved till the vessel reached port so as to keep their glorious head-over-heels dream aroma intact. Proceeds from these sales went to the Girl-Navy's uniform fund, to keep the sailoresses in the minimal clothing they were allocated to wear.

Smartness was a key concern of the post 2084 British Girl-Navy. Panty removal comprised an evening drill. The morning inspection, with the girls standing to attention, included an examination by the sergeantess of each sailoresses alternate horizontal-blue-and-white-hoop-striped top, to ensure she had fitted the nylon vest it comprised so as best to close-cling to the shape of her bosom, and show two hints of nipple. The parade also always concluded with: “Display Thighs”, requiring the girls to grasp and lift the side-hems of their red-nylon micro-miniskirts, for an inspection to ensure their panties were secure, and their nylon suspender belts and white nylon stockings both secure and straight.

The significance of all these drills was that the girls in the modern navy had seductiveness as their major weapon. This had been a British first, now copied the world around. But it was still acknowledged that British girls were by far the best trained on the globe.

This seductiveness was to disarm the enemy, always these days another girl, as instantly as possible. Amanda had learned basic unarmed combat, and wore her fingernails long and sharpened in readiness to ruin the face of some pretty enemy, if she were forced. She had also learned where best to bite an enemy's breast, and how to grasp and torture a nipple or a clitoris to gain a submission and surrender, or an admission in interrogation.

…………………

It was, as Amanda had already briefly experienced, the stokeresses who had the hardest job on the SS Naughtylass. In constant nearly unbearable heat, they must shovel the coal into the furnaces that built up the steam to drive the yacht's twin-screw propellers.

These girls were as if a breed apart. Tough, though only femininely softly muscular, they were hard drinkers, and could quaff the cheap and watered-down girl-wine given the serving sailoresses, by multiple litres, in their brief off-duty spells in the sailoresses' mess hall.

Amanda had to join the stokeresses during coaling. The passengers would disappear ashore during coaling. But the sailoresses would all strip to just their tiptoe shoes and their tanga-panties, to heave the heavy coal brought to the port before the ship sailed, and hump that coal in canvas sacks to where the coal rolled down the chutes into the hoppers from which the stokeresses drew shovel-loads to feed the ever-hungry furnaces when these were lit and the yacht at sea.

Coaling was one event during which the Girl-Navy allowed some relaxation. It was thirsty and dirty work. Copious cheap girl-wine was in barrels on the yacht, for the girls who were allowed their five-minute break in every hour of steady heavy coal heaving, to relax within.

One of the Girl-Navy's traditions would also occur during the coaling exercises. If there was a stokeress new to her trade, and yet to undergo the initiation rite, that new stokeress would be given her stripe.

To effect this, her bare bottom would be whipped horizontally with a cane by the chief stokeress, thereby ensuring that the coal-dust with which every girls' body was smothered black during coaling, would, in the case of the whipped girl, enter her welt, to very effectively tattoo her bum indelibly for the rest of her life. That was how one told a stokeress from among her sisteren sailoresses: her pride in the black stripe her bare bum bore.

It was in witnessing such playful but painful activities as this, that Amanda had discovered something new, or rather begun to acknowledge what she always knew about herself. She must needs avert her dark-brown pretty eyes when the new stokeress was caned, because she, Amanda, was disturbed and distressed by the feelings she had in her slit when she thought of, let alone witnessed such a thing. And the mass swim when the girls who had been coaling all day, dived in the sea to let the saltwater wash their bare bodies of the greater part of the sweat-glued dust with which they were by now heavily caked, from hair to toes, despite wearing shoes, was also exciting to Amanda in a profoundly disturbing way.

………………

Amanda must take off her panties when her senior officer ordered her to do so. Amanda knew that any girl who refused to do so, or who failed to do so within three-seconds, was severely punished.

The order “Panties Off!” was barked every evening by the sergeantess at the sundown parade. By another tradition of the British Girl-Navy, its sailoresses went commando (i.e. wore no panties) between sundown and sunrise.

Often of an evening, Amanda would serve in the SS Naughtylass' mirror room.

The mirror room, was a lounge favoured by the older guests, who adored being served by such a lovely creature as Amanda, gliding in graceful tiptoe ballet beauty on the reflective floor, that allowed a clear vision of the centre of her femininity nestling between glorious sweat trickling brown thighs, above her tight-clinging leg contour confirming white-nylon stockings: her mystery, her tight lipped smile, her sensitive sensual sexual siren, succulent, and shining seductively with sweat: her pouch posing prominently, with its purse properties, proudly performing its profound purpose of impertinently prompting its parting with pumping pole penis, to pound it in performance purposing propagation: to divide her and rule her and remind her of the reason for a girl. Her minx, her pod, her slice, her slot, her slit: her juicy pink-brown interiored negress' slit, with its tight-closed love-lips longing a lingering licking.

Amanda felt shame to be displayed this way. She had been even more incredibly indelibly embarrassed when she had discovered that the floor that reflected upwards to show all her would-be hidden glory, was a one-way mirror arrangement, that enabled girls in the massage parlour below, to lie supine, enjoying the incomparable vision of the exciting decisive pristine precision incision between Amanda's divine thighs, as they watched her tiptoed trips around the floor of the room above, which was also the transparent ceiling of the room they were in, and could see and study her legs, her thighs, her bare bottom, and her sweating shining sin-inducing seducing slit.

Amanda's natural lovely shyness was of no account, as she must, under orders wiggle the floor of the mirror room sans her panties, showing her slit to all who would wish to look down, in order to look up her skirt and try and glimpse it: and that meant everybody in the room in which she waitressed.

Even at the mirror room's tables themselves, Amanda must note down orders from a civilian or a naval officer, whilst having the long-handled hand-mirror that was placed for that purpose on every table, being used by one or more of the girls at that table, to take a look up behind the front hem of her skirt, at the smooth bald-shaven glistening squeeze-box, that Amanda secreted and always carried with her between her fabulous legs wherever she went: her incredibly irresistible incisive incision: her beautiful brown cunt.

………………

As the sailoress removed the stub of the cigarette that she had let burn down until it was almost about to burn her, the smoke rose from her lips in twisting curls of blue-grey, as if her lovely lips were those of Cupid's pistol after it had just been fired.

She lay on her back in a hammock, a pillow under her rump to thrust her groin upwards and thus arch her aching back to ease it, after she had been bent over a washtub all day. She had managed to secure one of the too few hammocks in the ratings' quarters, for some blessed sleep.

Needing her tobacco fix, this Cabin-Girl Bottom-Class immediately lit another of the strong-shag-tobacco filterless cigarettes she habitually smoked when off duty, and placed it between her lips so that, as she now lay back on her back, putting hands with interlocked fingers behind her head, it stood bolt upright, its smoke slowly winding toward the ceiling, a red and yellow glow showing where it was just now burning, a Pisa tower topping of toppling tobacco ash tilting atop it, gradually appearing as the cigarette burnt slowly downwards.

The joy of the relaxation a cigarette brought to this girl could be seen in her eyes, before, with her being exhausted beyond exhaustion, she could keep her honey-gold startling devastation-starters open no longer, and fell into an instant deep sleep, her cigarette still burning slowly between her lips……

…….It was Amanda who saved the day: the potential for a canvas hammock to catch fire. Just back from serving all eve in the officers' mess, she took the still burning cigarette out of the girl's lips, and looked left and right location for, before locating fore, an ashtray to stub out the smouldering stub.

Amanda hated cigarettes. She had never smoked and would never smoke. Of course Amanda had no say in the fact that the Girl-Navy allowed tobacco to be used by sailoresses off-duty. But it was the Girl-Navy way of smoking that most distressed Amanda's sensibilities.

Time after time Amanda would come across this or another of the younger girls, fallen asleep with a cigarette still between the lips of her cunt: cunt smoking being a tradition in the British Girl-Navy that was so old in origin it would have preceded the discovery of tobacco had that been possible.

Even as she saved the deep sleeping exhausted girl (was she fifteen maybe?), who now snored with the pretty purr of a kitten, from having her love-lips burnt, Amanda watched another young sailoress dampen her middle finger, and load her slit with a second or maybe a third piled helping of snuff, from a tin she held in readiness. This girl then kneaded herself with her fingers on her mons, to bring on a little of her arousal moisture, in order that it should enable the supersensitive inner walls of her slit, to absorb the nicotine from the tobacco, that was causing her slice even now to glow with comforting and sexually exciting warmth.

The hoary old Girl-Navy joke that the way a sailoress smokes “gives a whole new meaning to the expression shag tobacco”, was to Amanda's mind representative of the indifference of the authorities to the rising number of smoking related diseases, especially among the very youngest sailoresses. Had it been that the moneyed classes indulged cigarettes or snuff this way, something would have been done in an instant to save their health.

A very pretty yellow-eyed sailoress in the hammock next to the girl Amanda had saved from the burning cigarette, took her half-consumed cigarette from the lips of her slit, and offered this cigarette to Amanda, who politely shook her head to decline it.

At this, the second smoker just shrugged, and put her cigarette back between the lips of her cunt, where it drooped down as if she had acquired a mini-penis, holding her thunderously titanic thighs as close together as she dare, so as to keep as much of the smoke that filled her purse, within her for as long as possible.

………………

Punishment in the Girl-Navy was, in its ferociousness, commensurate with the high discipline expected of the girls who served in that proudly traditional branch of the British armed services.

The cat o' nine tails: a rope whip, with the handle comprised of the rope with all its individual strands still twisted together, and its nine implemental, instrumental, incrementally instructive destructive tails, comprised of the nine sub-ropes that made up the handle, separated such that they could individually thrash the victim (each of the nine tails of the cat being knotted at two-inch intervals and at its tip), was in readiness in a glass case mounted on the bulkhead of the sailoresses' sleeping quarters, among the ten hammocks allocated to the fifty ordinary rank sailoresses who must take turns to sleep in them, and were not allowed to sleep anywhere else.

Use of the cat was now rare. Only the yacht's captainess could sanction its employment. Where a beating was given out as the punishment for a recalcitrant girl, the cane would more often be used.

Most of the disciplining was in the hands of the seargentesses, who were empowered to give up to ten strokes on a sailoresses' bare bottom, or, in the case of a very serious offence, up to ten strokes on the girl's nipples.

This latter punishment was referred to among the sailoresses as “slapping the paps”. It was excruciatingly painful. The cane would be used on the girl in a series of downward strokes on each breast alternately, with the whipperess standing to the side of the victim, the downward stroke being aimed so as to hit the naughty girl's nipple, in the traverse of the cane through a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree ark, in which the poor nipple was struck at about the one-hundred-and-ten degree point, with the very tip of the cane, with that very tip at its very highest velocity.

To their everlasting shame, some girls, exceedingly few, but some, try as they might not to, would become animalistically sexually aroused by a nipple whipping. Queen's Regulations therefore discretely decreed that……….

“434.4 During the progress of her punishment, at the first sign of the punishee showing heated interest in the process of her punishment, her chastisement shall be ceased until that heat has fully subsided, and shall not be recommenced until the victim's ardour has completely cooled.

434.5 During the cooling process, the punishee shall be instructed, quoting Section 434 sub-section 434.5 (i.e. this present sub-Section) of Queen's Regulations for Sailoresses of Her Majesty's Girl-Navy, dated 1 April 2084, to the effect that: ‘punishment is for the correction of wrongdoing, and that enjoyment of punishment is strictly completely and utterly forbidden'. Furthermore, the punishee must be ordered to calm herself and to regain control over the natural functions and reactions of her mind and body, so as to be fit, ready, and worthy to receive the next stroke.

434.6 In the event a punishee becomes heated to the extent that there is clear risk of orgasm and / or orgasms occurring, punishment shall cease whilst the punishee is additionally calmed by the employment of cold water upon her person by the hose or bucket(s) that shall have been readied on standby (see sub-Section 434.1 above herein) for that purpose.

434.7 In any instance where the punishee attains orgasm during or in the immediate aftermath of punishment, she shall be punished to the same degree a second, or, if another orgasm and / or orgasms results therefrom also, a third time, in the immediacy of the occasion (i.e. without break of any duration in time) consecutively and not concurrently.

434.8 Any punishee attaining an orgasm and / or orgasms from or during three consecutive punishments, shall be subjected to a repeat of the equivalent of the same three punishment sessions collated as one continuous session, within 24-hours of the conclusion of the session she enjoyed. (Should enjoyment continue during the repetition, refer to Section 666 sub-Section 666.69 – ‘Orgasm in Malice' - below herein).”

Other punishments available to the sergeantesses to hand out, included the so-called “slammer” also referred to by the sailoresses as “the cage”, and what the sailoresses called “Jilling the Jack”.

………………

Amanda would never forget the punishment of Zudina Palermo.

Zudina was a thirty-year-old Italian Jewess of astonishingly startlingly attractive features. With her twisting ringletted black hair, her ghostly pale complexion so in contrast with her hair's darkness, and her stunning black eyes, Zudina was always fumbling clumsily at the order that semi-concluded the sundown parade: “Panties Off!”

Zudina was just a nervous girl. She was a classic in her breeding and exceptionally highly strung.

Historically, the family having fallen on hard times, the Palermo's, had wandered to Austria, and Vienna in particular, in the 13 th century. Zudina came from a line that was as supremely sensitive as it was highly intelligent, and high achieving, and, in the case of the women folk, with Zudina being no exception, incredibly beautiful.

Zudina had been a concert violinist, a soloist who had performed to rapturous acclaim in all the major classical music capitals of the world. After her Garnogie Hall - New York performance of the Messlen (Opus 5) Concerto, when she had been but fourteen, three other female violinists, who had come to see and hear the already world renowned prodigy, declared in the instant that they would never perform the Messlen again, as they could not possibly approach Zudina's perfection of interpretation, let alone the plus-perfection of her incredible facial and physical beauty.

Zudina Palermo's more immediate ancestors had fled Vienna for London in the 1930's with the rise of Hitler in neighbouring Germany. Unfortunately for Zudina however, they had failed to move on, and thus failed to escape the ban on female musicians, bar vocal soloists and choristers, that had been introduced in 2084 by Adele Halter in Britain.

Zudina could have escaped to the USA or Uganda, but had chosen to stay with her ailing parents, despite their pleading with her to go, and was now an orphan who had wandered into the Girl-Navy because, with Adele Halter's ban on women holding passports, she had no country left to go to, that she could legally get to.

Zudina Palermo's plan was to sail to New York on the SS Naughtylass, and jump ship there to seek political asylum as soon as she could, after the vessel had docked in New York harbour.

Unbeknown to Zudina, however, the NYPD-GCS (the New York Police Department - Girl-Control Section – motto: “We Beat the Beat to Beat the Bad Girls”) had already been flash-messaged by the New Scotland Yard Girl-Police, and Zudina would, even if she had succeeded in escaping, soon have been rounded up and returned to her ship to receive, highly probably, a whipping on her bare breasts, in front of the assembled crew with the cat o' nine tails.

………………

Zudina and Amanda had kissed.

It was the natural and right thing to have happened: heaven decreed it: the sun the moon and all the stars in all the universe of universes demanded, nay, commanded it!

Amanda had held back in the kiss. Such was completely against her passionate nature, but she had held back because of her continuing love for Michaela Redhead.

It had happened when both girls had been on laundress duty. Zudina's highly-strung highly temperamental nervous and constantly agitated and skittish jumpy emotional being, was completely unsuited to the heavy work of shifting, sifting, soaking, soaping, and stomping the mass of nylon uniforms that accumulated daily, with it being Girl-Navy regulations that every sailoress, officer or rating, must have fresh clothing every day.

On top of this, there was the soiled clothing of the passengers, and the towels and bedding from their cabins, etc, to be laundered.

Zudina was only too aware of how hopeless she had become since the loss of the music she could flow her emotions into through and out of.

To Amanda, the answer was simple: it should be that, in their team of two, Zudina would be the one who stood in the soapy-water-filled wooden-barrel wash-tub, to agitate the nylon skirts they were assigned to wash, by “stomping” with her lovely legs and pretty feet, in the soap and water filled tub, while Amanda loaded the tub in which Zudina would work, and removed the skirts that had had their twenty-minutes stomping, to rinse them, shake them to mere dripping wetness, and finally hang them on the wash-line that carried them over the rising warm air vent from the engine-room below, as the wash-line slowly circled, to dry them.

The brilliant success of this assignment of duties, came to the incredibly sensitive and emotional Zudina, as such a relief: the relief being in her realisation that she could indeed deal with the mundane practical. And, at the end of their shift, with the soap soaked Zudina still in the wash tub up to her creamy dreamy thighs in the wash-water, Amanda had merely pecked Zudina on the cheek by way of girly thanks to the lovely creature with the ever side-to-side flicking frightened doe eyes.

It had been Zudina who had kept hold and held tight Amanda. It had been Zudina who had recognised in Amanda an instrument more finely fashioned and highly tuned than her own Stradivarius. It had been Zudina who, with the long left hand fingers she had used with such supreme delicacy on the neck of her viol, had caressed the unbelievably lovely mouth of Amanda, and drawn the softened shocked and sensually sensated Amanda to her, to play with her lips on Amanda's lips, a tune attune with the heaven in Amanda's soul.

Amanda's fire was immediately aflame and her body an instant all-enveloping all-embracing all-over erogenous zone. Her nipples pulsed, her minx moistened, her clitoris danced………. and yet Amanda had pulled away!

This was a kiss supreme and girl was melting and melding into girl in the crucible of crucial compassion and passion, but this was not Michaela, and Amanda had pulled away, whispering her sweet apology to the devastated Zudina, whose emotions ran in rivulets till its self-evidential tears salted her lovely mouth.

It had been Zudina's over-emotional echoing sigh that had alerted the laser-eared sergeantess to inspect what progress Cabin-Girls Bottom-Class, Heavensent and Palermo had made.

…………………

Were it not so erotically wonderful, the sight of the incredible Zudina, snapping splashily to attention, arms rigidly by her side, her head erect, her eyes, still skitter-scatter with her highly strung tension, but staring unseeing obediently out front between whiles: snapping splashily to attention at command, because still standing in a barrel three-quarter-full of dirty soapy water, whilst bubbles of soapy origin slid down the silken smooth complexion of her shapely thighs: were it not so erotically wonderful it would have been farcically funny.

Amanda too, her mouth still moist with the attention paid in praise of her by the tender lips of Zudina, also stood rigidly to attention, with her naturally heavy chest heaving with fear, as the sergeantess on lower deck patrol, tapped her disciplinary cane on her own long nylon stockinged long legs, as she tip-top-of-tiptoe leggy-stomped briskly brusquely over.

All the sergeantesses carried canes when on duty. That was why the sailoresses wore tanga-panties: tangas ensured the sailoresses' bottoms were bare if the sergeantess needed to order a sailoress to lift her skirt, so as to receive a summarily swift and painful on-the-spot reminder of who was in charge.

“What in god's name was that noise?”

“You: Sailoress Bottom Class Heavensent: what has been going on between you two?”

“Ma'am nothing ma'am!” Amanda answered in a voice intended to be monotone, but quavering with the guilt she had no right to feel for having fulfilled her earthly function as a heavenly instrument for Zudina to make love's music with and upon.

“Have you whores been kissing on duty?” the sergeantess enquired suspiciously, and as if knowing, as she looked at the moisture of passion drying on Amanda's mouth.

“Ma'am negative ma'am!” Amanda answered with a flicker of her eyelids that was natural reflex, but could almost have been intended to fan away her defensive lie.

“Don't you lie to me whore!” came the snapped response.

“Heavensent and Palermo, you are both on a charge. Your punishment will be decided at sundown parade. Now get on with your duties……………..”

The sergeantess had turned her back to slink away, and must now turn again.

“…………..Ma'am it was I ma'am!” said a sweet soprano voice suddenly, a mini-moment later.

The sergeantess had turned her back to slink away, and must now turn again.

“Ma'am it was I ma'am. Heavensent had nothing to do with it ma'am” Zudina's fear tremolo vibrato voice quavered in repeat of her confession.

“Well, well, well, how refreshing”. The sergeantess' sarcasm ladened tone, slowed a little more with each “well”, till the last lasted thrice longer than the other two put together.

“I almost believe we've had us some honesty. How refreshing indeed” she sneered.

“Now then Palermo, you little Italian tart, your kindly sergeantess is gonna see the captain about you, and, if I have my way you whore, you'll be Jilling the Jack till we get us to New York!”

“And as for you Heavensent. You may think Palermo's got you off; but that ain't the way it works. When I'm on watch nobody so much as farts without written permission you whore. So the captain's gonna hear two names and yours is the second you little bitch!”

“Now the pair of you: get on with your duties!”

…………………..

Had she needed it, it would have been the final excuse the sergeantess had needed.

At the sundown parade Amanda and Zudina Palermo stood tiptop-tiptoe shod to rigid sexy-legged attention on the foredeck of the SS Naughtygirl, in the front row: the cream of the dream girls that stood there with black, and titian, and russet, and brown, and gold, and straight, and curled, and frizzy hair, fluttering in the evening breeze under their white nylon sailoresses' hats: especially Amanda's dark-brown tight negress' ringlet curls, teasing with their pleasing, as the reddening sun shone on her femininity and her femininity shone back to put the sun in shadowed shame.

“Panties Off!” ordered the sergeantess routinely, and all twenty girls reached under their red nylon miniskirts to rip off their panties in synchronised unison.

“Present Panties!” snapped the sergeantess and, in a flash, all the removed panties were dangling from pretty fingers, all that is bar the pair that fell to the wooden deck: Zudina's.

One of the sailoresses not on parade and currently on laundress duties, went down the two lines of ten girls at attention, and took the supremely aromatic day-long worn nylon panties for preservation in anticipation of sale over the internet.

One pair of panties she bent with her legs straight, to show beneath lifting revealing skirt the ravishing full glory of her bare bottom, rising like two momentously monumental moons, to pick up: the pair on the ground: the pair dropped by the trembling Zudina.

The grin on the honey-blonde sergeantess' face made her high-cheek-boned classically chocolate-box pretty visage, look almost ugly: not that that “ugly” was really possible with such a face as hers; but there was decided cruelty in her dark-green eyes.

“Cabin-Girl Bottom Class Palermo: you stupid clumsy bitch: two steps forward: march!!”

Zudina lifted her gorgeously sexy right leg in a knee-upward jerk and toe-tip downward thereafter stomp, followed by a drawing forward of her equally sexy left leg in the same manner: followed by another knee to tit level curvy right leggy upward jerk and downward dainty-footed stomp and left leggy-leg repeat, in obedience of her order to take two steps forward, and stood to attention before the sergeantess, who now strolled slowly around the exquisite Italian Jewess: a Jewish girl, the product of a race and faith without a heaven, but the product of heaven in metaphoric fact nonetheless.

With her long swan's neck and her classical curvature, Zudina outshaped in wonder the Stradivarius with which she had, not long since ago, made the world weep at her feet. This supremely talented cultured and exceedingly intelligent, as well as exceptionally beautiful girl, more highly strung than any string of her viol: sensitive in mind, sensitive in body, super- sensitively tempestuously emotional, loving and gentle, shook from head to ballet-tiptoed feet with fear.

“Cabin-Girl Bottom Class Palermo: at ease!” the sergeantess bawled, and Zudina instantly parted her tiptoe standing feet to the exact one-foot gap required and drummed into her by her training, whilst also crossing her hands behind her back with her fingers straight out, and her left thumb grasping her right, her chin up, her eyes looking at the horizon, her crossed hands resting on her delightfully full round pert and firm micro-miniskirt-hugged bottom demispheres.

“Johnson, and you, Smith, swing the bowsprit inwards: we've got us a Jill for the jackstaff”

The proud prow of the SS Naughtygirl boasted a ten-foot long nine-inch diameter bowsprit rather than a jackstaff: a bowsprit, a pole extending straight out and upwards at a thirty-degree angle like a thrusting penis, with a rounded dome at its top-end like a flagpole, usually ten feet out over the ocean below it, with that ocean being combed aside by the incurving sweeping speeding bows of the yacht.

As Zudina stood with her legs apart before her, Sergeantess Charmaine Fulsome, the oldest of three sisters, with middle-sister Miranda Fulsome a constabless in the Glasgow Girl-Police, and little Apina, still at skivvy-school back in Glasgow the last Charmaine had heard, admired the Italian Jewess' perfection.

Charmaine took her disciplinary cane, and eased up the front hem of Zudina's micro-miniskirt to touch and run her cane back and forth on the supremely extremely sensitive lips, of this hyper-tensile supremely extremely emotional girl: who flinched with even this, the lightest of light touches.

“My, my, my…………I do believe our lovely little fiddle-twiddler here, has got herself a hair-trigger twat: a rocket pocket. Bet she goes like shit lightening as soon as someone even looks at it.”

Charlotte wanted to make Zudina's fellow sailoresses mock Zudina with laughter, hence the cruel commentary, but the exceptional sweet tender beauty was adored by all, and nobody so much as stirred.

Nonetheless, Zudina blushed, knowing without understanding why, that she was very turned-on by the humiliation she was being subjected to.

A momentary flash of an erotic dream in which she was playing a violent violin solo, completely naked, before an audience of five thousand, flashed before her mind. Yet she had refused to do just that when it had been the condition laid down for her continued career as a classical violinist.

The authorities had broached the subject in the wrong way. The world was owed the sight of such a face and such a body. Her nude glory could only have told the story of what all the greatest music is ultimately about, as she bowed her naked violin naked

Angered at the lack of response to her feeble joke, from the ranks standing at attention behind Zudina, Charlotte returned to the enjoyment of her power………..

“Strip you fucking whore! Strip fucking shit naked now!!”

Zudina was genuinely confused and shocked by the feelings in her mind and body. She wanted the other girls to see her in all her natural glory: in nothing but the nothing and everything that nature provided.

A vertical flash fork of unlimited lightening lit the dusking evening, but no girl there on that parade had any care or attention for the storm on the horizon, when in the current clammy air currents they could caress their eyes with the curves of the callipygian Zudina, and see her unbounden breasts swing out to either side of her chest, as she stood now obediently naked bar her shoes, the shoes compelling the completely compelling girl to completely erect attention fit to erect to tense attentive attention, the erectile tissue of girl or even boy.

Girl was set upon girl by the harsh disciplinary code of the Girl-Navy. Johnson and Smith knew nothing bar obedience from fear as they brought the steel arm stretch cangue for Zudina's neck and slender wrists.

The cangue's central ring was hinged so that the two arms were alongside each other initially. Johnson, a strong ex-police-girl, placed the opened central hoop of the cangue at the back base of Zudina's slim graceful neck, and then opened out the arms of the cangue so that they rested on Zudina's slender shoulders as, at the front of Zudina, the ring having closed around her neck, the neck brace clicked locked.

Lifting the arms that had embraced the Stradivarius that had caused empresses and queens to tears openly with the beyond heavenliness of Zudina's playing, Johnson and Smith locked Zudina's slim strong long and lovely arms out horizontally, by padlocking her wrists to the end hoops on the cangue, unavoidably enjoying watching her breasts lift and swing and lollop, and finally thrust to soft forcefulness, out to the stormy horizon, where lightening forked and thunder rumbled in worship of the power of girl.

‘Clang!'

The air was so still that its only disturbance was the single trickle of girl-sweat that glided in the sweet soft canyon dividing the supreme pink-brown peaked monumental mammary mountains, that forefronted the forefront foremost beauty of the incredible Amanda, as her gentle eyes filled with tears for the suffering of the Jewess Zudina, whose incredibly shapely and strong thighs were now straddling the bowsprit near its very tip, with her folded legs tied at the knee close together, and her big toes roped together by a rope going over the sprit behind her bum, so as to pull her legs up and sit her on the unyielding bowsprit by her softest most supremely sensitive succulent and sweaty sweetest girl part.

A huge round wooden batten bar was in Zudina's soft mouth, to gag her, and the ropes that tied her gag were knotted in a pretty bow at the back of her neck.

The Italian Jewess' eyes were closed in fear and denial of what she knew to be the truth, and tears tickled down her spectrally especially spectacular features. And, with her fear-torn breathing, her huge breasts rose and rocked and rolled and waved in the thus twice blessed air, with their gentle reminders that heaven is on earth for as long as girls' breasts doth hold sway.

The air was so still that its only disturbance was the single trickle of girl-sweat that glided in the sweet soft deep plunged canyon dividing the supreme pink-brown peaked monumental mammary mountains that forefronted the forefront foremost beauty of the incredible Amanda, as her gentle eyes filled with tears for the suffering of the Jewess Zudina, and at Amanda's own guilt that her supremely sweaty cunt was moist, and her clitoris throbbing at the sight of the jewel Jewess, as Johnson and Smith wound the crank-handle that inexorably slowly swung the adorably adorned bowsprit out, back out, right out, over the cruel sea.

‘Clang!'

Guilt and glory warred in Amanda's gilt-girl's fair face, as she fought not to let her tears flow, or her arousal show, as her poor friend, the lovely Jewess Zudina now rode the bowsprit out over the ocean, Jilling the Jack as a live tormented terrified and torturously teased and tempting temptation masthead: an incredibly beautiful masthead mascot: a figurehead comprised of the unsolvable mathematical conundrum that figuratively forms the fabulous figure of the unfathomable creature that is girl, weighing her 100-pounds of 100-percent girl down-bearing on her soft down bearing, shaven smooth bare cunt.

‘Clang!'

No sailoress' eye turned to the sound of the heavy steel cage being dropped atop a hatch just behind them.

A muffled moan mixed with misery magic and majesty, musically mystified their ears from distant over the sea: the sound of girl suffering early, already with the combined fear and fulfilment of her mind heart soul and body: suffering solo solipsistically, riding her minx astride a mistressing mast pseudo-clit-penis thrust, she straddled, asweat with sweet surrender to her reconnection with her herness, her sheness, her shear girlness: poor Zudina.

“Cabin-Girl Bottom Class Heavensent: two steps forward: march!!”

The negress brown Amanda lifted her gloriously gorgeously supremely sexy negress brown right leg in a negress brown knee-upward jerk and toe-tip downward thereafter stomp, followed by a lifting aloft of her equally incredibly shapely and sexy negress brown left leg in the same manner: followed by another negress brown knee to tit level curvaceously curvy acutely cutely curved right leggy upward jerk and downward dainty-footed stomp and left leggy-leg repeat, in negress brown obedience of her order to take two negress brown steps forward: and she stood to negress brown attention before the sergeantess.

Amanda negress brown and natural as nature herself, nurtured the universe as her soft petite acutely pretty mouth, with its curved cupidic constant kiss proffering full negress lips, kissed without kissing, and constantly called for the kiss, by forming the bliss of a kiss in its completely compelling come-hither composition on a face adorable in its grace and fervour and compassion: the face of an adorable girl.

The hedgehog is a small insect-eating hedgerow-dwelling animal, whose defence is to curl into a ball and rely solely upon the sharp short hairbrush-like spines that adorn its head back and sides: a porcupine on a compact scale with shorter sharper close-gathered, rustling when she walks, spines.

Amanda had been stripped naked and wore and bore the pain of the hedgehog bra that the seargentess herself had tied over Amanda's soft negress brown tits. The sergeantess had stood behind Amanda and tortured the poor girl's naked nipples, by enveloping Amanda's tits in the copious cups of the hedgehog brassiere: cups comprised within, of hedgehog skins, with their abundant terrible spines turned in, to embrace the tit that was to be thrust therein. The sergeantess had stood behind Amanda and tortured the poor girls naked nipples by running the bra, still as yet not tied on her negress brown tits, side to side to spike Amanda's nipples tormentingly.

Amanda was nothing but girl and as but girl she could not help that her supremely sensitive nipples pulsed and throbbed with the wicked pain, or that she screamed, and her clitoris shot from its hidey-hood, when the sergeantess pulled the cups of the hedgehog bra fully on to Amanda's full-on fulsome handsomely-huge breasts, scratching and paining every single square micro-millimetre of their supremely firm soft feminine formation, so that Amanda now stood “at ease” her eyes wide with her conspicuous concupiscent compulsions, her body counterplaying with her mind as her nipples throbbed and pulsed and were torn and spiked, and throbbed and pulsed all the more as they were torn and spiked, precisely because they were torn and spiked.

Amanda's gorgeous mouth momentarily formed an “O” for orgasm, as with her eyes wide to match, her beautiful bouche opened from its supreme dream status norm of “kiss me: I am the way the truth and the kiss” to “orgasm me: I am the kiss and nothing but the kiss, so help me girl”.

The hedgehog bra was tied off tight at Amanda's back, and she emitted a girly sigh mixed from shock surprise and mental torment and conflict, as her body messaged pain and compulsive pleasure, as her breasts were massaged by her unavoidable breathing, rubbing her feminine front within the unrelenting, unyielding, constant spiking spines, with which she was penetrated and impaled at tit and especially nipple, as she licked her gorgeous kiss-me-constantly upper lip, to ease her arousal fire: the fire with which she was being shamed before her crewmatesesses.

The stocks were round: they formed the steel lid of the round steel barrel that was the cage that was strapped to the top of the hatch on the deck behind the sailoresses. Johnson and Smith lifted the lid so its front semi-circle encased Amanda's pretty wrists and long lovely neck, before closing the rear half to surround Amanda, and leave her by padlock, locked in its encasing round inescapable embrace, her beautiful graceful face above and her wonderful figure forming fantastically below.

Amanda was to be caged in the steel barrel to punish her for kissing, or rather letting herself be kissed by, the supreme jewel Jewess Zudina.

It was as if a dream as the dream Amanda was knelt to melt the heart and make her crawl back into the barrel. This was the “slammer” also known to the sailoresses as “the cage”.

Amanda obeyed her instruction to crawl backwards, for fear of the pain from the cane the sergeantess swished at the ready at her side.

Then suddenly, Amanda open-mouthedly gasped with astonishment. As she wiggle-crawled backwards into the barrel under the threat of the seargentess' wicked wand witch switch cane, the Venus-vase that was the shape of the girl that knelt and wriggled and wiggled her entirely enticing body backwards into the barrel, was now kneeling on knees horny huge-thighed. Amanda's momentum had a moment of pause because she had met with some resistance in the barrel she could only feel near with her raunchy rear.

Amanda's brilliant mind recoiled in denial and horror at what her slit had felt.

Amanda opened her small mouth and parted her kissy-kiss come-on-and-kiss-me-constantly-it-is-my-kismet negress' curled lips, and licked them to moist compelling come-on-and-make-me-cum dampness, as her devil-deep-dark-sinful-brown-brown eyes closed down, knowing that the moisture of her mouth was only capturing and reflecting the moisture of her other mouth, as she re-began her earthly heavenly Venus-vase wanton wriggle wiggle backward crawl, to part her lips, and suck into her vacuum, the vast mast of a central punishment penis, whose massive steel rigid mass protruded in the path she adorned, ensuring that the only way she could fulfil her order to fill the barrel with her beautiful body was to have the two-foot long three-inch round ball-knob-ended steel rod penis, fully fill her slithering slavering slot, with its completely cold copious cruelty, till she had it in her to its hilt: till her cunt became the scabbard of the sword that was to be the main source, along with her hedgehog bra, of her punishment pain.

………………….

The top of the barrel-cum-prison-cell had been locked on Amanda an hour since, and she suffered in silence, kneeling within the steel barrel, with her slice filled to its ultimate, by the cold brutality, that it now shocked her mind to recall, that her acutely female body had welcomed within her, to fill her to fulfilment just an hour since.

Amanda's lovely face looked out between the dainty fists made by her pretty hands, as her head and hands protruded from her barrel cage, strapped against its rolling free, to the top lid of a hatch. Outlined against the still slowly setting sun, Amanda could see in the distant near but so far, the cruciform outstretched arms of the sublime black-ringlet-haired, ghost-white complexioned, Jewess Zudina, riding astride the bowsprit, way out over the sea, moaning in pain and horror and terror and fear, as she Jilled the Jack, rodeoing the rod: saddled, her thunderous thighs astride, riding astraddle on the nirvana-nurturing nerve-endings of her opened cunt.

The hour that had passed now saw darkness descend, and the sky become rent with streaks of lightening that flash photographed the searing sight of these two too beautiful women suffering for their indiscipline, by being severely sexually disciplined, in true Girl-Navy tradition.

………………….

“Listen up! Listen up! Listen up! Attention all passengers! Attention all passengers! Be assured of your safety, but please go below deck immediately: immediately go below deck! That is all passengers, below deck immediately now please!”

“Listen up! Listen up! Listen up! Attention all passengers! Attention all passengers! Storm ahead! Storm ahead! Storm ahead! Be assured of your safety, but please go below deck immediately: immediately go below deck now! Thank you!”

There was a feedback yowl just before the tannoy clicked off after the captainess' announcement.

Immediately below in a first class cabin, two girls had just finished making the extreme of the supreme love: physical and spiritual love girl with girl, with bodies so made so for the “little deaths” that their orgasmic cums had surrendered them to: two to cum in two cums: too comely maids made to cum by each other.

Now one in the shower, as if by its soft sprinkle prompted, prominently breasting the silken soft water removing the eager saliva from nipples that had been sucked to steep peaks they still sustained, a sweet young voice voiced: “Oh I do so hope it wains: one has never seen wain at sea don't ya know: what!”

The cornflower blue eyes of the showering girl's lover, her legs lengthily long on the bed having just been the whore she dreamed, were wide with the satiation of satisfaction. Her face, spiritually pale, contrasting with lips painted livid crimson, high cheekbones brush-blushed to an unnatural red flush, and eyes eye-shadow anointed to an over-heavy coal-black hue.

The girl on the bed bore crimson fingernails and toenails, painted thus to match the lipstick on her lovely mouth, and now smudged on her divine nipples: for this eve had even lipsticked her nipples this eve, to entice vice.

Her black leather micro-miniskirt was ridden up off her smooth rotund callipygian mountains, and her soft blonde mons' down stubble, shone in the artificial light: the lips of her slit still being parted by the rolled up one-dollar bill she had insisted her lover must insert in her as payment for her performance.

One-thousand more dollars had previously been electronically transferred from one account to another at the Lady Love Lady Co Bank Limited, and an inspirational lady had embarked on her longed-for career, as an upper-class class of call-girl: a courtesan cupid concupiscent for the conspicuous enjoyment of the wealthy.

“Oh I do so hope it wains: one has never seen wain at sea!” came the unmistakable upper-crust drawl of Cecile Mondelicuer-Meed-Arbinthrope of Tiapaolin: the cutie in the cabin's shower cubicle, the owner of the SS Naughtylass on her, the owner's, first voyage at sea.

……………….

The storm grew apace and Zudina Palermo and Amanda Heavensent found they were both now riding bucking fucking broncos. As the yacht dipped the delicious Jewess down toward the sea so she slid to the end of the pole she straddled so girlfully, only, as the yacht rose high once more, to slide back on the rope that tied her toes to prevent her sliding off, as she Jilled the Jack, riding on her cunt in terror rising to madness at her helplessness, as she was arms outstretched adoringly adorable above the wicked sea, that split beneath her split, as the proud prow of the SS Naughtylass sliced its way to New York, below her heavenly slice sliding in torture on her penis of pain: a figurehead of overwhelming feminine beauty, literally breasting the rain that now slash-slanted down, and rivered her heavenly body to ribbons of magnifying transparent streams, showing passing enlargements of her magnificent beauty, as it torrented and twisted whirlpools around her noble naked nobility, and she gag-screamed-out into the pitch of the night, the wonder of her complete and utter girlness.

Meanwhile despite its roped-down strappings, a girl, perfection in her negress brown complex complexioned completely smooth softness, was being rolled side to side, and within her barrel, and sliding forward and back uncontrollably, despite her fitness and girl-muscularity, and her pretty little mouth with its negress' upturned upper and negress' full bold lower kiss-me-conspicuous lips parted with sighs and cries of pain and pleasure, as she was being fucked by the massive cold steel dildo rammed to its hilt within her slit, till it was to its tip, two long strong feet within her girlness. And the sight and the sound of the gagged distant cries from the supreme Zudina, Amanda could see shadowed and then revealed in all her glistening glory by the lightening flashes, turned Amanda on to enjoyment, as her imprisoning barrel rolled and rocked and slid her impaled body, fore and aft, sliding her slavering slit on the huge ball-knob-ended steel shaft that she hilted and could not halt from shagging her cunt.

Despite its stabilisers, the SS Naughtylass rolled and pitched, and two glorious bitches moaned and squeaked, as they were slowly but inexorable inevitable stoked and stroked to the heaven of a cum, as the rain anointed them two princesses royal, girl of girl, as it swirled down Amanda's face, open-mouthed with astonishment: eyes opening and closing with pain and pleasure, and pleasure and pain, and pain and pain, and pleasure and pleasure, and plain pain, and extraordinary pleasure, as the ship bucked, and she was fucked to emotion by its motion, her cream caressing the shaft on which she now easily and eagerly slid, with the cream topping the tip of the cum on which she teetered, being the sight of Zudina bewitching the horizon, revealed by the lightening sheet and fork, as both girls rode the stormy road, that rode them riding on penises within and astride, which made their beautiful maid made-for-it bodies succumb to the fact they were undeniably, undeniable, outwardly and inwardly, undoubtedly girl.

Zudina's cries had hitherto been from fear, but now she rode that she bestrode far out over the sea that rose to splash and salt her to flavour her supreme flesh to increase of its lickability and succulence, with her only fear that the two-hours she had endured Jilling the Jack might not come to the cum, for which she now longed as her thighs pronged either-side the pseudo-penis she astrided, and tried to grip with her feminine softness, to halt her inexorable slide back and forth and up and down and side to twisting side, on the stallion on which she was stationed, ecstatically static, and stoic for the strike of lightening she was terrified would kill her before her cum.

A full third hour of storm mated these girls cumless on their respective rides, Zudina astraddle and Amanda's inside, as the barrel cage in which she was bare and bore the prong of the strong two-foot-long penis within her fucking her by its endless reckless motion, as it shafted her cunt deeply painfully, soundly strongly endlessly, as she sighed and moaned and begged for this never ever to stop: a girl till queendom come, longing for a cum, as she surrendered mind and body and soul, to her sole desire to be fucked endlessly, as her imperious mouth lips parted with the sighs from her thighs being parted by the shaft that deep fucked her to oblivion's oblivion of all else bar her cunt.

From all the pleasure of the forceful pain Amanda was forced to endure as the storm raged and washed the deck with salt, with waves that assaulted her tortured body with its extended painfully hard erect nipples impaled within the hedgehog-skin brassiere in which her pendulous breasts were being unmercifully caressed, as her body slid from side to side and back and forth as she slid, knelt on her knees, with an axle on which her body must slide and twist hard up her supreme femininity.

“Oh do come on you naughty gel!” snapped an upper-crust voice Amanda knew so well, as she, Amanda, slid in her barrel being fucked unbid by the buck of the yacht on the front of which Zudina slipped and slid with her cunt snail-trailing her girl-lubrication on the pitiless bowsprit she bestrided.

“Oh do come on you naughty gel!” snapped an upper-crust voice Amanda knew so well, and Amanda saw a vision in the next flash of lightening, of a girl tied as a bitch, on a leash naked with a studded leather collar around her neck, and her legs tied at her ankles to the tops of her magnificent thighs next her crutch, to make her walk on all fours with her hands as her forepaws and her knees as her rear paws, as a young girl in a transparent yellow plastic mackintosh and souwester hat, running with the rain that seemed to excite her, wearing nothing but these and balletic shoes, a girl of maybe sixteen with a steamed up monocle over one eye, dragged the totally naked older girl, with over-red painted lips, dark-black eye-shadow, excessively rouged face, red in fingernails and toenails, along like a bitch-dog.

And the sea pitched Amanda forward, and she gasped with pain and pleasure again as the ship now rose and impaled her painfully on penis pole again, and she saw the cornflower blue eyes of the bitch-dog-tied naked girl on the end of Cecile Mondelicuer-Meed-Arbinthrope's leash: and she came as she saw the bitch-dog girl's rear, and came too in unison with the masthead Zudina, as two and one, as if by telepathy innate to beautiful girls, synchronised their cums, and two girls came as one. And Amanda came again as she saw in a lightening flash Zudina's arking body, arching with the incredible cum for which she had been aching, astride the bowsprit Jilling the Jack. And as lightening struck the SS Naughtylass' central radio mast, Zudina and Amanda came again in a flash in its flash in united unison union.

“Oh do come on you naughty gel!” Cecile snapped playfully sexily, as she tortured Michaela on her leash, making the brilliant university professor crawl in the pouring rain, as her reign as a whore now knew its pain. And Amanda came again and again and again and again and again, as she rocked and rolled in her barrel and slipped and slid on the unyielding cold pole that penetrated the loveliness of her warm wet nest, and as her eyes watched Zudina orgasming out at sea, and more so still at what she could see as the love of her young life crawled by her, tied as a bitch-dog tugged on a leash by a mistress, the pretty frump Cecile: as Amanda could see Michaela's soft blonde down stumbled minx, and the rolled-up one-dollar bill that it chewed upon, as she was wiggled supremely thighilly by Amanda: Michaela with her breasts swinging silent bells with clapper nipples tense and peaked, past the girl in the barrel: Amanda in ecstasy and orgasm, and orgasm and ecstasy, and orgasm and orgasm, and orgasm, as the sea, having had its homage paid by the two sailormaids made to worship it, now calmed.

“Oh do come on you naughty gel!”


Review This Story || Author: Eve Adorer
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