© 2005 by With Lowered Eyes

All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

This material is presented as adult entertainment and is not intended for any person under the age of eighteen years. While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, the author assumes no responsibilities for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of information contained herein. All characters and descriptions contained herein are purely fictitious.

All at Sea

by

With Lowered Eyes

( Edited by Arika Lee)

1.

I had lived with her as a submissive for two years. We'd met at a club in the city and I was captivated by her from the first moment. A tall, extremely feminine, long haired blonde. One might have been tempted to think of her as the stereotypical Nordic beauty but that would have missed the mark. There was nothing typical about my Mistress Claire. She was imaginative and exciting and there was something dark behind her light blue eyes. It was that dark side that I loved. I need to be used, you see.

She had explained this unrealized need to me and I had surrendered easily. She had called me a natural. I knew only that I was addicted to her. I quickly learned that pain and humiliation was the price of my drug. I paid willingly.

My Mistress informed me early in our relationship that I was to be a source of income for her. She knew I would never refuse her and within a couple of weeks of our first meeting she ‘loaned' me to a couple of her friends. Neither of them had been attractive. One had been distinctly unpleasant. I did what I had to do, having no choice in the matter. Following each occasion my Mistress had examined the marks that had been inflicted on my body in front of the woman and then had sent me to the car while she and her ‘friend' concluded their business.

She was not unkind to me. I would not want anyone to think so. She was a caring Mistress and she knew that I hated being shared. However, she believed that a refusal to do her bidding with others would disrespectful to her dominance. She also, I think, enjoyed my humiliation. It mattered not. No matter how hateful or humiliating, I always complied with her wishes.

*

One bright April weekend I was suddenly told to pack my bags. Summer clothes, an evening dress or two, good underwear, stockings, toiletries; I packed according to a list she gave me. I had no idea where I was going. She had me wear a long, black skirt and a white blouse with no lingerie underneath. She chose black sandals with ankle straps and a slim leather collar which had a small lock on it. Once I was dressed and packed she had me load my bags into the car and she drove us through the sunlit streets to Southampton . I had not dared ask her where we were going but, as we entered the city she said,

“You're going on a cruise, Sue.”

I looked at her with a questioning glance.

“It will be a real pleasure cruise.” She smiled to herself and said no more.

We arrived at the dock area and she drove through the security controls. We parked beside a huge white ship. Leaving the car, we walked up the gangway that led to an entry in the ship's side. I struggled to keep up with her as I carried my bags.

Once aboard the ship she made a call on her mobile and in a few minutes a tall woman with her hair bunched under a white cap and in the uniform of a stewardess joined us. She and Claire kissed and talked a little way away from me, turning occasionally to look my way. The stewardess turned and headed off. Claire gestured that we would follow her. Gathering up everything once more I set out after them. We came, eventually, to a cabin. The stewardess opened the door. The cabin was quite large and had a round port hole. There was a large sofa, a television, a side cupboard and two doors leading off the room. The stewardess left us and Claire had me sit on the sofa.

“I expect you're wondering what's going on.”

Of course I was full of every thing from curiosity to apprehension, but I remained silent.

“That was Veronica, a very, very old friend. She is the head stewardess. Pretty, don't you think?”

I nodded. Claire moved close to me and cupped my face in her hand.

“Don't be scared, Sue. You know I love you. I would never let any harm come to you. Ronny's going to look after you. You can trust her as you do me.”

I knew then she was going to leave me with this stranger and I could not stop my eyes from welling. She rubbed a tear from my cheek. She took her hand away and kissed my mouth, then stood and turned to pick up her handbag.

“Unpack your things. I'm sure she'll be back soon.”

“Ma'am…” I began hesitantly.

It was so unusual for me to speak without being told to that she spun around to look at me. She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“What's happening to me?”

Claire looked at me, studying me hard. It seemed to last forever. Under her gaze, I was oblivious to the ship board noises. Finally, she smiled.

“You, my little courtesan, are going to earn a living for Mistress over the next couple of weeks while I am in the U.S. on business. When the ship docks I'll be there to meet you and bring you home.”

I opened my mouth to speak.

“No more. Do as Ronny orders. Be a good girl. You'll be safe and she will protect you. Trust her as you trust me. She IS me for the next two weeks or so. Obey her as you would me.”

She left, closing the door behind her and I wept. I sank onto the sofa sobbing and feeling my life had ended. I rolled myself into a ball on that bloody sofa, held myself and cried my poor heart out.

*

I didn't notice Veronica come into the cabin. I started when I felt a hand on my shoulder and opened my eyes.

“I'm Ronny.”

I nodded.

“Don't be scared.” She stroked my arm as she spoke, “Claire was once my apprentice. I taught her all she knows. She is like family. Naturally, this means you are too.”

Her voice was soothing and calm and her manner authoritative.

“Sit up.” I did and she put her arm around me. “I know you're scared, who wouldn't be? But this is just another phase in your training. You're an intelligent submissive, not a slave. You know that you have to develop for your Mistress. Put your faith in me and you'll be fine. OK?”

I nodded.

“You may speak whenever you wish to until I tell you otherwise.”

Words do not come easily to someone who has been denied them for long periods.

“Well?”

“I…….I don't know what's happening.”

“You are on the cruise ship ‘Leeward Isles'. The ship takes wealthy patrons across the Atlantic , around the West Indies and ultimately to Florida . You are here to serve some of those patrons and I am your manager. You also may serve me at times. Like I said, put your trust in me and you'll be fine. Now, little one, unpack and we'll get some food sent to you.”

Left alone again, I unpacked, hanging dresses and skirts and blouses, tucking away shoes, filling drawers with underwear and so on. Busying myself helped to take some of the fear away. A steward delivered some food and I realised how hungry I had become. The bustle of the ship quietened around me and I felt a tremor run through it, like a beast awakening. I went out on deck and watched as ropes were taken away. Eventually two tugs cajoled the vessel away from the dock and out into Southampton water. I watched all this and felt the fear rise in me again… that last ties to the land feeling…my last to Claire as well I feared. I felt empty.

I went back to the cabin and walked around it. My home for a while, I thought. The bedroom was spacious and had an en suite bath and shower room. The sitting room was comfortably large and well appointed. The second door leading off the sitting room was locked. I watched television, surprised to find more channels available than on the set at Claire's home. I found a fridge stocked with cold drinks, wine, beer and spirits. A girl could get used to such luxury but it did nothing to lighten my mood. I was still shaken that Claire could send me away like this with no detailed explanation. Veronica's words, kind as they had been, had failed to reassure me.

Ronny returned around three that afternoon. I had watched the ship sail past the Isle of Wight and into the Channel. I had drunk some tea and read the ship's brochures. I was bored. Later I would discover that this was not to remain a problem. I ended up dozing atop the big bed.

“Finding your feet?”

“Yes, thank you, Ma'am.”

“Good, this is one of the best cabins. Claire has invested a lot for your comfort.”

It felt so strange awakening to find her standing over me. It was as if I had no privacy, as if she were a wardress in a luxurious prison.

“Stand up, Susan.”

I stood. She inspected me then, walking around me, touching me. She ran a hand over my back and shoulders. Her fingers explored my face and ran through my long, black hair. She cupped my breasts and rolled my nipples through the fabric of my shirt.

“Lift your skirt.”

Unquestioning, I did so and held it up above my waist.

“Good. Turn around.”

I turned.

“Let it down again.”

I dropped the hem of my skirt and Veronica smiled.

“You'll do very well. It seems that Claire was right about you.”

I wasn't sure what this meant.

She took the arm chair and gestured me to the sofa. She removed her hat and released a mass of hair which fell almost to the seat. She took off her uniform jacket and I realized it had concealed a gorgeous figure, full and firm. Her long legs were folded to one side. She was simply stunning.

“OK, it's time for some explaining. I'm senior stewardess on this ship. It is a good job and allows me many perks. One is the freedom to ensure that it is I that serves the wealthiest customers and the best tippers. I supply anything they want and on this cruise…that may include you. Don't worry, I know about you and men. Ladies only. Some will simply want a dinner companion. Others will want sex and some of these will be dominant women needing the pleasure of a sub for a while. You will be any and all of these. You will enter into the social life of the ship. You will go to dinner, to the parties and enjoy the pools and bars. You will not drink to excess. You will always dress appropriately. If you are approached by any woman you will refer her to me. You may, of course, converse with them but if any services are required or if they attempt to open a relationship beyond the friendly, you will refer them to me. Do you understand?”

I did.

“Dinner for you tonight will be in the main dining room. I will come for you at 8 and lead you to the bar where you can have a cocktail. Just follow the crowd and enjoy yourself. Do not forget the rules. I am your Mistress just as Claire is for this cruise, remember that. How does she punish you?”

“It varies, Ma'am.”

“As it will with me if you disobey. Just remember… I taught her. Wear a knee length dress.”

She left.

2.

I dressed carefully for dinner, tying my hair back loosely and selecting a dark blue cocktail dress in silk. I wore stockings and a tiny thong, no bra. I wore shoes with modest heels and applied makeup carefully. I wore only a dab of perfume and at eight sharp she arrived. She didn't knock but just came into the cabin and inspected me.

“Nice,” was all she said.

I followed her to the bar and she left me sitting at a table with a gin and tonic. She was there at dinner. She did not wait at table but worked the room, talking to the guests and commanding the staff. She exuded authority and was clearly efficient and popular.

I spoke to a couple of people at the table. I was seated between two men, one elderly, the other middle aged. The older man, a Mr. Porter, was good fun and charming, the younger was a lecher. I had been so long in silence that casual conversation was almost painful. Eventually I relaxed enough to be able to hold up my end of a chat with the carefree Mr Porter.

“Call me George, please. Being seen with a young, beautiful woman will do my street cred no harm, “

We laughed together. He flattered and amused me. He asked me what I was doing on a cruise alone and I explained that my partner had bought the cruise for me and that we'd meet again in the U.S.

“A lucky fellow,” he said.

“A woman, “I corrected him.

“Lucky lady then. It takes all sorts.” He said with a smile.

Ronny appeared at our table.

“Mr Porter,” she exclaimed, “So good to see you again. I arranged for you to sit next to Sue, I knew you'd look after her. You seem to be getting on well.”

George beamed at her, basking in her flattering attention. He held her hand and mine.

“It's a shame that the two most lovely women aboard aren't interested in men.”

“You'll find plenty who are, Mr Porter, and if you don't, I'll find them for you,”

Veronica then whispered close to his ear and he roared with laughter. I enjoyed his unthreatening company and agreed to have a brandy with him when he smoked a cigar after dinner. But it was not to be as Ronny shortly reappeared.

“I'm afraid I have to borrow Sue for a while.”

George stood and kissed me goodnight, thanking me for my company and I returned the compliment. He stood, smiling, as we left together.

“Miss Reynolds is the daughter of the chairman of the shipping line that owns this ship, Susan. She's 45 or so and a voracious dyke. Not a dominant though, so you'll need to be aware of that. She never gets rough and she tips exceedingly well. She will simply love you.”

She knocked at a cabin door and an imperious voice bade us enter. We did and I found myself in a simply vast suite, with several windows looking out over the sea. I had thought my own accommodations extravagant but I now saw that luxury had many levels. Miss Reynolds could not be described as beautiful but she was elegantly dressed in a long, blue gown which hung from strings over tiny breasts. Her hair was thin and short. She was tallish and couldn't have weighed more than eight stone. She smiled, first at Ronny and then at me.

“Ronny, my dear. I see you have my companion for the evening. Call me Gwen, dear. Will you have a drink?”

“Not for me, thank you Miss Reynolds,” said Ronny. “I have to work for a while. But you two get to know each other.”

They exchanged a few words more and then I was left alone with “Call me Gwen, dear” Reynolds.

We drank champagne. I played the flirt and she loved it. She suffered no embarrassment and was clearly enjoying my company and intended to enjoy it more.

She went into one of the two bathrooms and when she came out she was naked but for a dildo swinging between her legs from a pink harness.

“Use the shower, darling, then join me in the bedroom. Oh, yes, and if those are stockings, put them back on.”

She was obviously used to dealing with whores and I was a bit put off by her tone. But then it struck me that this was exactly what I had become.

I went, naked but for suspenders and stockings, from the bathroom to her bed. A porn film was playing on the television and she was propped against the headboard, holding her rubber cock and playing with her nipples. She looked up at me, taking her eyes from the screen.

“Do you like to have a little visual entertainment, Sue?”

“I love to, Gwen.”

“Good, good. So do I, dear.”

She let go her dildo and reached for my hand and held it as I crawled up onto the bed beside her. She kissed me firmly, her tongue exploring my mouth as her hands explored my body. This was a no-nonsense lesbian. Her experience was as obvious as her enthusiasm.

I was pushed onto my back as she kissed me. Her nipples were like marbles between us as she continued to probe my mouth with her tongue. She backed off to move between my legs. My knees were lifted and she dived between them to lick noisily at my pussy. It was not sexy…just sex. She was panting as her thin body busied itself between my legs. Then she knelt up and rolled me over, encouraging me to lift my bum in the air. She slid her dildo into me and rode me, leaning over me to lick my back and reaching under to squeeze my nipples. She came quickly and loudly.

Afterward we lay in her bed and she watched the video avidly, occasionally rolling it back to watch a bit again.

“I love it, don't you, Susan?”

I assured her I did.

“Lick me while I watch, dear.”

I obliged, crawling under the sheet and using my tongue to pleasure her. She came noisily again. She asked me to sit up beside her and she fondled my breasts absentmindedly as she watched the television. She put her arm around me and nestled me into her shoulder. I was a body and company, nothing more.

About midnight she reached to her bedside table and took out her purse. She folded a note and tucked it into my stocking top.

“Off you go, dear. I'll have a word with Ronny and perhaps we'll have some more fun later in the cruise.”

I dressed and left feeling curiously disappointed. Back to my cabin, I took what I found to be a $100 note from my stocking and put it on the side table in the sitting room. I showered and went to bed. I slept deeply, dreaming of Claire and wishing she were with me.

3.

Ronny was wearing a blue flared skirt and a white blouse when I awoke. She was sitting in the chair at the end of my bed reading a magazine.

“Ah, how was Miss Reynolds?”

“Efficient.”

“That's her style. She was glowing about you though. Well done. Good tip too, I see.” Ronny said and laughed.

“I left it out for you.”

“Not for me, Sue. I get mine from the client. Keep yours and give it to Claire.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“I have the morning off today. I thought I might take you on a little tour.”

She was fun, which was what surprised me. For two hours we toured the ship and she showed me around with proprietorial glee. She introduced me to officers and colleagues and shared joking intimacies about them. I found that I was really enjoying myself. I was wearing a pair of white shorts and a blue t shirt. She occasionally touched my hand or arm and once, as we descended a stairway, linked her arm through mine. Even more comforting was the hand that cursorily rubbed my arse every now and again.

We seemed to arrive back at my cabin with the hours having flown.

She told me to make coffee which I did in the small closet-like space that had the necessary items. I carried her cup through to the sitting room to her and noticed a case similar to one of Claire's on the floor.

“Take of your t shirt.”

I pulled it over my head and she came close to me. She ran her nails over my breasts and nipples. Her fingers rolled and tugged my nipples and she said, quietly,

“Close your eyes.”

I closed them and enjoyed her attention to my nipples. When the first clamp bit I yelped, more from surprise than the pain, real though it was. The second clamp was attached and the familiar ache spread through me. The chain that hung between them had another joined to it in its centre. It hung below my waist.

She sat then and sipped her coffee.

“Take off the rest of your clothes.”

I took of sandals, shorts and thong and she pointed to the floor at her feet. My training was clear on this and I knelt there, knees slightly apart, hands on my thighs. Setting her cup aside she rested a hand in my hair and with the other, lifted her skirt.

“Now, thank Ronny for the tour.”

I bent to my task. Her panties were silk and wet, almost transparent. She tasted of lemons. She reached for the chain that hung between my breasts and took the long, free-hanging part and pulled it. I looked up to see her head back with eyes closed. I lapped at her eagerly, curling my tongue at the fabric to find her sex. I eased the silk aside to better explore her. She tugged gently on the chain making me moan into her. Her knees came up onto my shoulders and I let my tongue slither down to her bum. She moaned encouragement and pulled that chain again. I pushed my tongue into her bottom hole and she writhed on it, stroking my head and making my nipples hurt with her tugging. When she finally came it was forceful, her back arching and her flood filling my mouth.

I licked her down from her orgasm and waited until I felt a tap on my head. With Claire this always meant to stop. I looked up and she smiled.

“Good girl.”

Oh how those two simple words warm a girl's heart.

Ronny stood up and took her panties off. She fed them to me. The wet silk seemed to become dry in my mouth, a familiar sensation. She took off her skirt and folded it onto a chair and then had me kneel on the sofa with my head and breasts over its arm, my hands on the floor. She spanked me, alternating furious blows with caresses. I moaned through my full mouth as she pushed a finger deep into my arse without breaking the rhythm of alternating slaps and touches. The finger fucking in and out of my bum me along the steady slap… stroke…slap soon had me shaking to cum. I fought while I waited with increasing desperation for her permission.

“Now.”

I doubt that her lips had closed over the word before I shuddered to a huge cum. My belly sagged, soft and spent, onto the arm of the sofa. I lay the gasping through flared nostrils and feeling the juice from my release run down my inner thighs.

She moved in front of me and knelt. She kissed my tears and cupped the clamped breasts. The removal of each clamp hurt and she smiled as she held my nipples and rolled them between her fingers.

“Pleasure and pain. Always a heady mix don't you think?”

Her undies still filled my mouth but I nodded weakly.

“I have to go to work now. Enjoy your afternoon.”

And she was gone. I gathered my legs under me and moved to the mirror. Looking at my streaked face I took the knickers from my mouth.

“Oh, Claire. I do miss you.”

*

The phone in the sitting room startled me. It had never rung before and I answered hesitantly.

“Cabin 12, C deck. A Mrs Dawson, she's a regular. Wear a sun dress, nothing else, not even shoes. You have about 30 minutes.”

She rang off before I could say anything. I looked at the clock; it was three in the afternoon. I showered hastily and wondered if this would be the pace of the whole cruise. I donned a yellow sundress and walked to the cabin. I realised then that part of the purpose of the morning's tour had been that I should know where to go. I was being sent alone. I had always been presented. As I walked I wondered what I should say. ‘Knock, knock. Your whore is here.' I thought and barely suppressed a giggle.

“Mrs. Dawson? I'm Susan. Ronny has sent me.”

She turned away, leaving the door open and I entered her cabin and closed the door behind me. The room was exactly like mine. Mrs. Dawson must have been in her fifties but she wore it well. She had on a long, silk robe, red with a floral pattern embroidered on the back. Her hair was a natural looking blonde and her makeup was perfect. I found her scent subtle. She didn't speak.

She pointed to a place on the carpet and I understood immediately. I went to it and knelt there, my knees spread, my hands on my thighs and my eyes lowered. She patted my head and left the sitting room. I heard the shower running and shortly after I heard bare feet padding into the room.

“Look at me.”

I looked up to see the same woman but transformed. She wore a black corset tied at her waist, so tightly it gave her an hour glass figure. Her breasts were covered by a completely transparent silk blouse, her arms with elbow length satin gloves. Below the corset was a long sheer skirt under which I could see stockings, suspenders and extremely high heels. Her hair was piled onto her head.

“Stand and take off your dress.”

I stood, pushed the thin strings off my shoulders and dropped the dress. I stood, completely naked and looked for a reaction but saw no change in her expression. Mrs Dawson came close to me and examined the collar I wore, testing the lock. She smiled, “So, a genuine submissive, how lovely. Does your Mistress beat you?”

“If I deserve it, Ma'am.”

“Or if you want it?”

“Never for me Ma'am, always for her.”

“As it should be.”

Her hands weighed my breasts and then she lifted them by the nipples. I couldn't help thinking that it was emotionless. She was simply going through the motions. She went behind me and with her hand on my stomach she pressed the other between my shoulder blades so I bent forward. The satin gloves roamed over my back, my bum, my thighs and then between my legs. Nothing in her actions was at all arousing. I stood, bent forward and listened to the ships constant noises.

When her hand went between my legs I felt her rub my lips. They were dry and tight in their crease. A sharp slap to my arse brought me back into the room with a jolt.

“Dry? Dry for me? Am I not beautiful, arousing, and attractive?”

“You are Ma'am, of course.”

“Then, why so dry?”

“I'm sorry Ma'am.” What else could I say?

She moved to stand in front of, took my face in her hands and kissed me. The kiss was slow, soft and her tongue slipped between my lips. One hand moved to my back, the other to a breast, her satin gloves stroking me. Relieved, I felt the wetness and warmth begin in me. Her kiss seemed to last forever. Her hands roamed over me and I felt one slide between our bodies to cup my sex. She took it away and stood back from me examining her glove.

“Ah, I see, you needed a little romancing.” She smiled pleasantly. “I like romance.”

She placed the dampened glove over my mouth and I tasted myself. Unexpectedly, she slapped my face. It wasn't hard but it shook me.

“Next time, you will come to me wet. I do not appreciate having to please you in order to please myself. Follow me.”

She turned and walked into the bedroom. I followed and saw, on the bed, a long riding crop, a gag, some stockings and scarves. She went to a drawer and pulled out some round, silver beads, joined by a thick black cord. She bent me over the dressing table, my hands on the top, and my face close to the mirror. I felt a cold oily substance drizzle between my cheeks and an insistent pressure as she pushed the first bead into my ass. The second followed and then a third.

“I think that will do for now, I love to see the rest dangling there.”

Her hands roamed over my buttocks and then she turned away. I watched in the mirror as she went to the bed and retrieved the gag. She bent over my back and the silk of her skirt, soft and cool brushed the backs of my legs. The lacing of her corset pressed hard against the small of my back. Leaning on me she reached around to feed me the gag. It was a soft ball and I bit into it as she moved my hair aside to fit the strap. In the mirror I could see her stand up and reach down to part her skirt and rub herself between her legs. She stood with her legs apart and slightly bent at the knees and I could see her finger sliding between her lips. Her eyes were momentarily closed and when they opened they were bright.

“I love pain, Susan. I hope you do too. Ronny says you do.”

She turned and picked up the crop. With one hand between her legs again, she ran it over my back and then under me to touch my nipples and across my breasts. I was scared now and wishing Ronny was there. I closed my eyes. The blow was harsh and made me yelp into the ball.

“Eyes open, Susan. You must watch me.”

The second blow was harsher still, the third awful. She was smiling, her eyes wide and her pupils big and black. Her hand moved faster between her thighs. The crop whistled three more times and I tried hard to go to that place where pain is not allowed in. I watched as she took the crop and fed its bulbous ended handle into her cunt. She moaned and appeared to have a small orgasm. She gathered herself and walked around the room with the crop visible as it dangled between her legs. She picked up a glass of wine and took a sip from it. She seemed almost to have forgotten me.

She got onto the bed, spread her legs and began to pull the crop's handle in and out as I watched her in the mirror. She came again, noisily this time. She lay there for a while and then slipped the crop out and came to me. Slowly she inserted it into my pussy. She pushed firmly, opening me and widening me as its head spread my muscle. I felt myself close around the narrower grip that followed and she left it to swing from me.

Mrs Dawson peeled off her gloves. She caressed my buttocks with her bare hands and then slapped each one firmly twice. Her left hand trailed down over the two exposed beads which she pressed and pulled before moving down to slip two fingers around the crop and over my lips. I was wet now, very wet, some of it hers from when the handle had been inside her. She found my clitoris and began to rub it around the crop. I pressed back against her hand and she slapped my arse again. She rubbed and rolled my clit, occasionally spanking me or pressing the beads. I was moaning now, moaning with real pleasure.

The crop handle was suddenly pulled quickly out and then pushed back and the combination of that and the beads was sending me over the edge. I moaned louder and felt the inexorable rise of an orgasm. I tried to resist it but it was impossible as the handle fucked my cunt and the beads worked with it inside me to arouse every nerve ending. I came, screaming into the gag. That was not the end though. Infuriated at my cumming she became more brutal and sustained her assault until I sagged and collapsed over the table.

“Well, well." she said, “I had expected better of you.”

She pulled me upright by my hair and turned me, the crop and beads still occupying me. She forced me to my knees and I had to wriggle to stop the crop from hurting as it bent against the floor. She pulled my gagged mouth to her crotch and rubbed herself on me. She rubbed hard with my hair coiled around her hand.

She stopped and breathlessly stepped back.

“Bathroom … NOW!”

I stood and hurried after her. She indicated I should lie in the empty bath. She climbed in, having removed her shoes, and stood over me. She peed then, a copious stream of urine that she directed over my hair, my face, my chest and my pussy. The hot stream splashed on me.

“Dirty girl, dirty girl.” She kept saying, over and over,

When Mrs Dawson had finished she stepped from the tub and retrieved her wine while I lay in her puddle. Finally her nose wrinkled and with a look of disgust she told me to take out the gag, the beads and the crop and to shower and dry myself. Relieved, I was happy to comply. She had left the bathroom and when I tentatively returned to the bedroom she was sitting on the bed, her corset and stockings gone, her robe back on and a smile on her face. She patted the bed and I sat beside her.

And then she talked. She talked endlessly, occasionally punctuating her words with gentle kisses to my mouth or breasts or shoulders. She held my hand and began to confide intimacies of her life. It was as if we were in a confessional as she poured out the details of a sad life with a cruel husband. She ended by saying,

“I'm a dirty girl, Susan.”

I realised then that her litany in the bathroom had been for herself and not for me. I held her and she cried on my shoulder.

It was midnight when I returned to my cabin and Ronny was sitting on my sofa drinking a beer. Without being told I lifted the back of my dress and showed her the marks.

“Hmm, I shall have to up her fee.” She said simply.

We slept together in my bed, her body curled around mine. I needed that and she knew it. For that night at least, I felt safe again.

3.

Morning came brightly through the port hole. It took me a few minutes to work out where I was and then that I was alone again. Ronny was like a spectre, arriving and disappearing at will. I stretched on the bed and winced at the soreness of the marks on my arse.

“Oh Claire,” I said aloud. “Why, why, why?”

I dressed slowly. I wanted to wear a bikini under my skirt for a swim later. Mrs. Dawson's assault had ruled that out for a while though, so it was a thong under my yellow skirt. I wore a white silk shirt and deck shoes to the dining room for some muesli and toast before talking a stroll around the ship. I browsed the boutiques and their massively expensive jewellery and designer clothes. I touched the wonderful leathers of costly handbags and sampled delicious scents in the perfumery. A couple of times members of the ships staff bade me a friendly good morning as did a couple of fellow passengers. I wondered what their reaction would have been had they known my true circumstances. I whiled away the morning window shopping and then leaning on the stern rail, staring into the ship's wake. At one point a yacht passed behind us and I felt I might almost be able to reach out and touch the tip of its mast. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself and briefly imagined jumping off and hitching a ride. Where was it bound for? Where was I bound for? I was not sure, but I knew who I was bound to. The fancy passed as Claire's image drew me to her. The thought of her waiting for me in Florida sustained me.

Announcements came over the Tannoy system, advising passengers of the day's events. I decided I would go to a lecture on sea birds that afternoon. A BLT was enough for lunch and then I slipped back to the cabin. I had bought a book by Kathy Reichs in the ship's book shop. A dark mystery to escape into.

Ronny arrived as I was getting ready to leave for the lecture. She was dressed casually, her long ash blonde hair rolling over her shoulders. I stood with my bag in my hand and smiled at her. She came to me and kissed me.

“Going somewhere?”

“I was going to the lecture on sea birds.”

“I don't think so. Not today. Sit.”

I sat.

“Mrs Dawson was pleased but…” a lifting of the eyebrow, “you were a little hasty?”

“Hasty?”

“Has Claire not taught you to wait for permission to cum?”

I nodded.

“So, why didn't you? It earned you that beating.”

“She'd have beaten me anyway. She's a sadistic cow.” I blurted.

It was rare for me to speak like this and my transgression was not lost on Ronny, who smiled in spite of herself.

“Yes, you're probably right. But that's no excuse. Mrs. Dawson is a good client and she pays well. She also has… shall we say, issues, as you probably discovered. Did she tip?”

“No Ma'am.”

“That's unusual. I'll go see her a bit later and have another smoothing word. Important to work the clientele. Your beating has sidelined you for a few days. I can't have damaged goods in the market. I have a reputation to consider. That means that Alice will have to do a bit more.”

The last statement was delivered almost to herself but I could only surmise that there was another girl like myself aboard. Ronny noticed my reaction.

“Did you think you were the only cat in the house?”

I felt the steel in her then. The words, “damaged goods” and “cat” stung, particularly because she had mostly been quite gentle with me. Then abruptly, she relaxed again.

“I might introduce you to Alice sometime. She's a real dolly. Get me a beer. Have one yourself if you want.”

I poured her a beer and took a bottle of water for myself.

“Ronny…”

“What?”

“I'm sorry.”

“Sure. No point in dwelling on it.”

She sipped her beer and studied me thoughtfully. She seemed to become more business like.

“Claire has told me how you met and how she has trained you. She's really rather proud of you. But… she says you can be wilful and sometimes downright disobedient.”

There was no call for a response.

“What is submission about for you?”

Now there was a question for me. It was in some ways as hard to answer as the meaning of life. Of course there were the simple answers; the wonderful sexual experiences and that amazing mix of pain and pleasure that take a body to heights of arousal unknown to most people. But if sex were all there was it would be shallow and insincere.

“About giving Claire all that I can.”

Seven words. Was that really it?

“Love?”

“Yes…that. Most of all, love.”

“When I found Claire …she was confused. I made her my submissive, but I knew I'd never hold her. I watched her around other women and saw how she began to treat them. I decided she'd been studying me.”

She laughed quietly before continuing.

“You see, I loved her and some say love and the lifestyle don't mix. In her case I thought it would work though…until I realized that what she really wanted was not to be mine…but to be like me. If I had not seen it I think I'd have lost her. Once I realised her true nature I began to train her as a Domme and she flowered.”

There was no wistfulness in her voice. It was a teacher's pride I heard.

“We remain close…very close. She sent you to me to help you both. She needs your submission just as you need her control. You are completely submissive but she doesn't want to own a slave. She wants a lover and companion who is hers to lead and train. I rather think she sees you as what might be called a ‘keeper.'”

The feelings in me churned when I heard this.

“So, we are going to make sure that Claire gets what she needs. Aren't we?”

“Yes, Ma'am. Yes please.”

“OK. Let's see that arse.”

I stood and took off my skirt and thong. I felt her finger trace the crop lines across my buttocks and then she applied a soothing balm to them. It was cool and gave immediate relief. As a piece of merchandise, I knew this was more to hasten my being able to work again than for my benefit but it felt good.

“Now, get the rest of your clothes off and come into the bedroom.”

I stripped off and followed her. Ronny stood beside the bed and took off her blouse.

“A little orgasm control for you today, girl. Get on the bed on your front.”

I lay down on the bed and let my face sink into the pillow. I felt the bed sag as Ronny knelt beside me. Her hands started to massage me, bringing warm comfort to my shoulders and back. The intimacy as her hair caressed my back and her hands soothed me took me into myself, into a kind of torpor. She nudged me turn over. I rolled onto my back and looked up at her. Very gently, she attached the same clamps as before to my nipples but this time she took the loose chain down and clipped it to my hood. I bit my lip and remained silent. Ronny knelt back, looking at me and I saw her hand go to her sex. She fingered herself obviously and then put that finger to my mouth. I suckled it.

“Such a whore.” She smiled.

She began again to massage my shoulders and neck, slowly moving around my breasts, raking them with her nails. She nudged the clamps, making me gasp slightly. I watched her face and saw her smile changing subtly as she moved lower down my body. She began at my ankles and worked her way upwards, adjusting her position so her wetness was resting on my shin.

Her hands reached my groin and she slowly inched around my shaved mound with gentle but insistent strokes. She pulled lightly at the clamp on my hood and I moaned quietly, my arousal growing.

She stopped and rested her damp sex back on my shin.

“Nice?”

“Wonderful, Ma'am, thank you.”

“Feeling wet?”

She didn't need me to answer. Her finger was exploring for itself. I lifted my hips to her finger and closed my eyes as she invaded me. She slid that delicious digit slowly in and out of me. It went to my bum then and was replaced in my pussy by another. Slowly she eased a finger into each of my entrances. I was writhing under her.

“If you cum, I will hurt you… a lot.”

Her fingers spread and opened me, another entered my pussy. I was now feeling incredibly aroused. She was merciless in her gentle ministrations and I felt the climax rising inside me.

“Oh God, Ma'am, please let me cum.”

She ignored me but continued to torment me. She leaned down to lick my clit below the clamped hood and it was all I could do not to scream with pleasure. She pulled the clamp with her teeth. I gasped.

“Shhhhh.”

Suddenly she left me. Her fingers slid out and her weight lifted from my leg.

She bent down to kiss me. A hand covered my vulva and I wriggled against it. I felt it move and be replaced by the unmistakable feel of something hard being slipped inside me. She probed my mouth with her tongue as the invader settled deep inside me.

Ronny drew her lips from mine only to kneel between my legs. I felt the ripples before I heard the hum of the vibrator. They started slowly but gradually increased as she pulled it out and pushed it back in. In and out, and God help me, I started to cum. I clutched great clumps of bed linen and bit my lip hard enough to make it bleed. I begged her to stop. I became incoherent in my efforts to hold back the flood. I cried out with the pain I gave myself but still she persisted. I slammed my hands on the bed. I shook my head.

I came. It wasn't like an orgasm at all, more like an explosion. I lost all sense of time and space. I floated in some astral plain where the pleasure was an opiate that took me out of my body. I could see myself lying on the bed, spread obscenely with a beautiful woman between my legs.

It was the clamp being taken from my left nipple that restored me to the there and then. It was like a brand applied to my skin. I screamed.

Ronny was utterly calm. She let me take in the pain of that de-clamping then held the other. She waited and waited as my breath came back. She moved it agonisingly and I knew she was waiting until I was calm enough for the full fear to well in me.

She timed it perfectly but, to my surprise, she pulled of the clamp on my hood first. Surprise and pain combined to make me arch my back, pulling away from her. This in turn, as I she must have intended, led to the nipple clamp being torn from my right breast. Absolute agony engulfed me. I screamed and wept.

She left me for a while. When the throbbing finally eased, I could hear her humming in the sitting room. She came back a while later.

“Well?”

“Ma'am… Mistress, I am sorry. I couldn't stop it. You were simply too good.”

“My fault then was it?”

“No,” hastily, “No, Ma'am, mine of course.”

She took a nipple between her fingers. It was sore as hell and she knew it.

“You see,” she said, pulling it hard, “I have been through this with other girls. It is a turning point you know. You see they had to learn. You have to too.”

I whimpered as the sore nipple was pulled and twisted.

“I promised I'd hurt you, didn't I?”

“A lot, Ma'am, yes.”

“Well so I shall.”

And I had thought the painful lesson was over.

“You do not take orgasms; you give them when they are required. What shall we do with you?”

She slapped my thigh, firmly but not agonisingly, and said,

“Let's get cleaned up and dressed.”

We showered together. She was a lover then, covering me in soap and shampoo. She had me wash her. Then we dried each other. It was tender and caring. My aching nipples and hood were almost forgotten, but only almost.

As I dressed she came to me and bent me over the end of the bed. Without warning she pushed two large metal eggs well up into my pussy. A thin wire extended from the second. I was denied underwear and led with haste onto the hot deck outside. We walked. As we passed a group of women playing cards on the sun deck I was convulsed by a hard metallic stirring of the balls inside me. I gasped. Ronny swept me along and then, leaning against the rail, she produced a remote control from her pocket.

“Brilliant, isn't it? I just touch this button here and…..”

And the instrument of torture rocked and rolled inside me again.

“Imagine dinner tonight.”

She laughed and I hated her.

I dressed for dinner around 7. The bloody balls were still there but hadn't stirred since she had told me to go back to my cabin. I put on a long dress and, as instructed, no underwear and low heels. I wore my collar, of course, grateful that it looked more like a fashion accessory than what it was. Knowing what I was about was stressful enough. Dealing with overly curious stares was something I could do without, as it was I'd begun to feel like the ship's dirty little secret. The phone rang.

“Put the beads in your arse, Sue, all of them. I'll see you in the cocktail bar at eight.”

Panic ensued when I couldn't find the beads. I was frantic until I discovered them hidden under some panties. I lubed myself up and pushed them in, one by one, until only their ribbon remained. I did my hair and make up then walked, full and uncomfortable, to the bar. Just as I was opening the door the balls began to writhe. Together with the beads they worked an awful magic and I nearly collapsed. A couple passing asked if I was ok. The movement stopped and I was able to stand straight again.

“I'm fine, thank you. Just a cramp in my leg.”

At the bar I ordered a large gin. Thank God the drinks were free. If ever I needed a gin it was then.

Just as I was finishing my drink, a woman in a trouser suit sat next to me. Her hair was short and slightly greying. She wore no make up or jewellery, except a man's watch. Her fingers were short and stubby.

”Nice frock.”

“Thank you.”

“I'm Jo.”

“Sue.”

“Travelling alone?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Me too. Another gin, or is it vodka?”

“No, a gin would be great, thank you.”

Suddenly her hand was on my knee. What a time to have to deal with an aggressive butch. At precisely that moment the balls started to move, slowly, inside me. I gasped. This seemed to encourage her and she squeezed my thigh. The pace of the balls increased.

“My, you're a hottie!” she whispered close to my ear.

“Please, Jo. Take your hand away.”

She laughed then and sat back.

“Don't be silly, girl. Ronny said you'd be here. She even lent me this”

In her hand was that small piece of terrifying plastic. She had been having some fun at my expense. Curiously enough, I suddenly relaxed. She knew the situation. This was somehow safer than if she had not understood.

Ronny arrived, back in uniform and smiling pleasantly. She had a girl with her who was about twenty five, taller than me and slim with short blonde hair. She wore a simple, white dress that hung around her, revealing a shapely body with firm, high breasts. I noticed immediately that wore a collar identical to my own. A pang of jealousy stabbed me as I realized she must belong to my Claire as well. All that talk of love earlier and of Claire feeling I was a ‘keeper' and now this.

“I see you've met Sue, Jo. This is Alice . Say hello, Alice .”

Alice said hello to Jo. She seemed to ignore me although I had the sense she was looking at me whenever I turned away.

“I have to circulate but I am sure I can leave you three to get to know each other.”

Ronny leaned over to me.

“Jo is a good, very good friend. Make sure you and Alice look after her.”

As soon as she left us I excused myself and went to the ladies. There was really nothing I could do to ease the discomfort of the balls but at least it was a moment alone to compose myself. Seconds later Alice joined me.

“What will we have to do?” she whispered.

It was no use ignoring her.

“God knows,” I said. “All we can do is go along with anything Jo says.”

All at once she turned to me for a hug and I could not help but accept it. I wanted to hate this girl but instead there we were, total strangers, holding each other for a bit of comfort. Knowing that too long an absence would be rude, we headed back to our table wondering what lay in store for us.