The Cruise (mmmmff bd sm (towards the end))
The Bear
This story contains scenes and descriptions of a sexual nature,
which may not be suitable for minors. If you are under 18 years
of age, or the legal age to view such material, please stop
reading now. If you object to, or are offended by, sexually
explicit stories, or if the offend the community standards where
you live, please stop now. The author, and any distrubutors of
this story disclaim all responsibility , in the case where the
above warning is ignored. If you ignore this warning, you are
pretty much average.
The Cruise
"Good Evening", the captain said, addressing the entire room, but
looking directly at the two passengers to his right. Marcia and
Karen had been invited to the Captain's Mess, and were seated as
guests of honor. There were only eight passengers in all, and the
cabins were a bit cramped, but the romance of a cruise on an old
fashioned sailing ship easily made up for it.
Marcia looked at Karen, her employer. The only way to get the
normally manic Karen Winslow out of her office was to make this a
working vacation, which meant no vacation at all. Still, there
was the chance that her boss would relax a bit once they were away
from the pressure. Her attention was drawn back to the captain,
who was finishing the evening address.
"Seaman Turner. You will report to the galley after mess for
extra duty.", the captain said.
"Aye aye, Captain", came the reply from one of the sailors.
"As a final note...", the captain began...
"What is that about?", Karen interrupted.
The captain looked slightly preturbed, then explained, "Mr. Turner
was late returning from shore leave. Extra duty is the
punishment." Resuming his address to the crew and passengers, "As
a final note..."
"It doesn't seem like such a big deal. Why not just dock his
pay if he's late to work?", Karen interrupted again.
Storm clouds passed behind the captain's eyes for a moment
before he regained his composure. "When a sailor is late for
duty, or slacks off on his work, the rest of the crew has to take
up the slack. He made them work harder, so he must work harder in
return." He paused, eyeing Karen to see if she had any more
questions. After a few moments, he continued, "As a final note,
the weather is expected to be fair for the rest of the..."
"But why bring it up now, in front of everybody? It seems.."
"Miss Winslow!", the captain snarled in exasperation. "The
Captain's Mast is always held at the evening meal. It is where
all reward and punishment is handed down. That way, justice is
not only done, it is seen to be done. Now, would you kindly stop
interrupting me?"
Marcia studied the captain. Not overly tall, but solidly built.
The weather had made his skin look old, but the dark brown of his
hair and beard made his age difficult to guess. At the moment his
eyes were dark, and his face was red. Even so, he had been
polite, even in his moment of rage. She knew that he would have
his hands full with her boss. Karen took orders from nobody, and
always interrupted. She listened as the captain finished his
address, glaring at Karen the whole time.
"...fair for the rest of the voyage south, but rough seas can be
expected over the next two days. Take care to secure your
belongings. Thank you." This last was directed at everyone except
Karen.
When he was finished, Karen addressed him, but in a voice loud
enough to be heard through the entire room. "What was so damn
important about a weather report anyway? I mean, you may run this
little excursion, but you work for me on this trip, and I don't
take that kind of language from my employees."
The captain looked at her with a sudden calm that was slightly
chilling as he replied, "Weather, to a sailor, is a matter of life
and death, particularly aboard a sailing ship. And to set matters
straight, I don't work for you. If you don't like the way I run
this ship, feel free to leave it at any time."
This brought a chuckle from the crew. They were two days out
from port, and wouldn't be docking in Puerto Viarta for another
three. The only way to leave was on a life boat, or swimming.
The captain probably wouldn't give this lady a life boat.
"Smart Ass!", Karen said loudly.
Marcia saw the look that the captain gave Karen, and decided to
stay clear. The weather forcast may be clear, but there was a bad
storm brewing on the ship anyway. She decided to make small talk,
to lighten the mood. "Captain,", she began, "Why are there little
tie-down hooks in the floor, even inside?"
The captain smiled, glad to end the feud, and replied, "The
small cleats in the deck are to secure things in rough weather.
Even the tables you are sitting at are fastened down."
Marcia looked at the base of the heavy, plank table, and sure
enough there were hooks locking the table in place. She
envisioned the chaos that would ensue if the heavy furniture were
free to slide with the rolling of the ship. Other guests began to
ask questions, which the captain answered with warm courtesy, and
the meal went on without further incident.
As the meal ended, and the crew returned to their duties, Karen
stayed seated. So did the captain. When there was only her, the
Captain, and Marcia in the room, Karen spoke up. "I don't take
that kind of crap from anyone!" She stood up as she spoke,
approaching the captain as she continued. She finished standing
across the table from the captain, who had also stood up, and the
two faced each other, matching glare for glare.
The captain spoke first, "You will dine in the common mess from
now on. I will not tolerate another performance like this one."
Karen stared daggers at him, but he didn't blink an eye. Unable
to intimidate him as she did all of her office staff, she gave him
a stinging slap, then turned on her heel and stomped out. The
passengers peering through the doorway quickly cleared out as she
stormed past them.
Marcia was torn, her reflex response being to follow her boss, but
her good sense telling her to appologize to the captain. Her good
sense won out. "Captain, I'm very sorry about this. I'm sure
that..", she stopped short as the captain raised his hand between
them.
"Miss Carstairs, there is no need for you to appologize. You
behaved yourself perfectly, and did your best to defuse the
situation. It is your employer who owes me an appology, not
you.", he said calmly. "I appreciate the gesture, though."
Marcia knew that "Being Karen meant never having to say you're
sorry." This was trouble.
That night, Marcia lay in bed, thinking about the ship, the
captain, the trip, and her boss. What Karen needed, she decided,
was a good fuck. Preferably with her on the bottom. Or better
yet, have her available for fucking, and have nobody care. She
envisioned Karen tied to some of those deck cleats, with the crew
walking past or stepping over her, laughing at her predicament.
There was lots of rope on deck. And everyone knew how horny
sailors got at sea. She got a vibrator out of her luggage, and
worked it into her love cavity. She didn't know what had make her
think of bondage, since it had never turned her on before. Maybe
it was the fact that she and Karen were the only women on board,
with 25 crew, and six other passengers. Whatever the reason, she
turned on her electric lover, then lay back on her bed, pretending
that she had been tied to it. The thought was exciting, and soon
she was wrapped completely in her fantasy. Somewhere in her make-
believe struggles, the vibrator slipped out of her hot box, but
she didn't care. She continued fantasizing, pretending that she
had been grabbed by the crew while sunbathing on deck, and they
were teaseing her crazy. Her reverie was broken when she heard
footsteps in the corridor. The door was locked, so her privacy
was secure, but she didn't want to be heard. She quickly finished
herself off and put the toy away. She prefered a man as a lover,
but the plaything was acceptable as a stress relief.
At breakfast the next morning, Karen was in rare form. She
complained about the food. She complained about the lack of TV,
the size of her cabin, the fact that her cellular phone did't work
at sea, that she couldn't take long showers, and generally did her
best to make everyone miserable. Her complaints went on all day,
to everyone, and she did her best to make it look like the
Captain's fault. She even tried to make up some jokes about him,
but none of the crew thought they were funny.
At dinner that night, Karen seated herself at the captain's table
without invitation, a look of evil glee on her face. Marcia
trailed along with a feeling of dread. She was not disappointed.
The captain came in and stopped cold, staring at Karen. He looked
furious, for a moment, then turned and walked out. Karen looked
jubiliant at his retreat. The look faded as he returned a moment
later, with two crewmen in tow.
"Miss Winslow, what are you doing here?", he growled. "You were
told to dine at the common mess from now on."
"I don't come, or go when told. And I certainly don't take
orders from you.", was her haughty reply. She knew that he didn't
dare do anything to her. She was wrong.
The Captain gestured the two crewmen forward, ordering them,
"Escort Miss Winslow to her quarters. She is to remain there for
the rest of the voyage, except for meal times and to wash."
Karen sat down, hard, in her chair, snaking her feet and ankles
around the chair legs. It would be hard to remove her without an
embarrasing struggle. The crewmen never hesitated, however. They
were either coached, or practiced, and moved to either side of the
chair. Seizing the seat and back of the chair on each side, they
hoisted and carried Karen out of the room, chair and all.
When they returned a few minutes later, one of them handed a key
to the Captain. He, in turn, handed it to Marcia, saying, "Take
care of this, if you please. I don't think it wise to leave the
key to a lady's cabin with any man in my crew. Escort her to, and
from meals, and let her out to use the washroom as needed. If you
need help, call on any of my crew. They will be glad to assist.
Just keep her out of trouble for me."
Marcia accepted the key with a few words of thanks. Her boss was
under house arrest, and she had the key. That gave rise to
interesting possibilities.
After dinner, the Captain again addressed the mess, giving his
evening weather report, and advising the crew that they would be
heading out from the coast to avoid some coastal storms. He
finished with, "As the final note of the Captain's Mast, Miss
Karen Winslow has been restricted to quarters. If Miss Carstairs
asks your help in guarding or restraining Miss Winslow, please
extend to her every courtesy."
As Marcia was leaving the mess, the cook offered her a meal tray
for Karen, who had missed dinner. Since this seemed to be the
best kind of peace offering she was going to get, she took it and
headed towards the cabin. All the while, though the Captain's
parting line ran through her mind, particularly the part about
"restraining Miss Winslow". Again, her mind filled with wicked
thoughts.
Karen was boiling mad when Marcia got there, and was almost ready
to smash the dinner tray, until Marcia reasoned with her. The
dinner was a gift from the cook, and Karen had no argument with
him. Hunger finally won out over rage, and she began to eat. She
spoke as she ate, "If that little tin god thinks he can just lock
me up, he's got another thing coming!"
Marcia didn't point out that the captain already had locked her
up, and could probably do it again without much trouble. She
simply let Karen fume, then escorted her to the bathroom. She
didn't tell Karen that she had the key. Karen would have ordered
her to give it up, which would have been a real problem.
The next day, Karen ate breakfast in the mess in silence, and
accepted the escort of Marcia and a crewman back to her cabin.
Nobody had noticed the dinner knife missing from the night before,
but she needed the door unguarded to use it. She waited about
half an hour after being locked in, then worked the blade into the
doorjamb near the latch. It took her a few minutes, but she
finally managed to spring the catch, and let herself out.
Fuming mad, she headed to the bridge, to have it out with the
Captain.
The Captain spun about in surprise as she entered the bridge,
snarling orders to a surprised sailor. "Get on that radio. I
want to talk to my lawyer!".
The sailor looked at his captain for guidance. The captain nodded
permission, then turned to Karen. "Miss Winslow, you were
restricted to quarters. What are you doing here?"
"I broke out, you pompous ass." came the reply. Fuming with
impatience, she turned to the radioman. "Get out of the way.
I'll do it myself.", she barked.
Again the captain nodded permission, although the sailor hovered
nearby, to keep the angry woman from breaking anything. Several
times he started to reach in and flip a switch, but the Captain
waved him back. They watched as she tried, without success, to
work the unfamiliar equipment.
Finally, she turned on the Captain, her eyes burning. "What the
hell is wrong with this thing?", she demanded. Without waiting
for an answer, she continued, "When we reach port, I am calling my
lawyer, and the owner of this bucket. I am going to see that you
lose your job. I am..."
This time it was the Captain's turn to interrupt. His patience
was gone. "You are goind to do nothing of the sort. To start
with, I am the owner of this ship. And what makes you think you
are going ashore when we reach port? You are restricted to your
cabin for the voyage, and you are going to stay there until the
voyage is over, at our home port. "
Karen was again escorted back to her cabin, and locked in. A
sailor was sent to find Marcia. She came at once, of course. She
was wearing her bathing suit, but good sense had told her to also
wear a light robe. The crew's reaction to her body the first day
out had convinced her.
"Miss Carstairs, your employer was just up here. You were
supposed to keep her under lock and key."
"Captain, I'm sorry.", she began. "I don't know how she got
out..."
The captain waved her to silence. "Let her know that I will allow
her the freedom of the ship. All she has to do is appologize at
dinner tonight."
"I've never heard Karen appologize for anything. I might get her
to do it privately, but there is no way she'll do it in front of
witnesses."
"Well, she insulted, and assaulted, and defied me in front of
witnesses. If she wants her liberty, the appology has to come the
same way." Softening a bit, he continued, "It's not my pride, you
understand. Personally, I don't care what she thinks of me, or my
ship, or my crew. But a sailing ship, or any ship for that
matter, runs on discipline. If I give an order, it has to be
followed, without question and without delay. If a sailor doesn't
take me seriously, he won't take my orders seriously. And that
could get people killed, if an emergency came up." The captain
looked troubled, and began to pace the bridge as he spoke. "Two
trips ago, we were caught in a storm. I ordered all passengers to
stay below decks. One woman, probably thinking about old movies
or something, came topside. She was taken overboard, along with
one of my men who was trying to help her. I won't have that sort
of thing happen again. Ever."
Marcia thought a moment, about storms and old movies. "Well,
Karen could use some discipline. Too bad you can't 'Take her
below and Clap her in Irons'. It would probably do her some
good", she mused.
"Actually, I could. And it would be legal. It would be hell on
business, but it would be legal.", the captain replied with a wry
smile.
"Then maybe she needs something like that", Marcia said. Before
he could interrupt, she offered a plan, formulating pieces as she
went.
The captain waited until she was through. When he was sure she
was finished, he answered, "That is almost evil. It would call
for some work, but it would certainly take the wind out of her
sails, but good. I'll give it some thought."
No more was said on the subject, and Marcia left, going back to
the lesson on sailor's knots that the Bosun was teaching on the
main deck. Again thoughts of ropes, deck cleats, and sailors
danced in the back of her mind. But this time, it was Karen she
envisioned in bondage. The thought made her smile.
Marcia made certain that she told Karen of the Captain's offer:
All would be forgiven, if she would simply appologize when she saw
him at dinner. She would be allowed at the Captain's mess
tonight, to make it easier. She didn't even have to sound like
she meant it. She just had to say the words. Marcia explained
all this carefully, so that Karen would have nobody to blame but
herself if she didn't take the opportunity.
At dinnertime, a sailor came to the cabin and let Karen and Marcia
out. Marcia still hadn't told Karen that she had a key. There
was enough trouble as it was. Besides, she might want to rub that
fact in, later on.
Dinner proceded quietly. The other passengers were absent, having
been fed earlier. The sailors talked among themselves, but there
was a shroud of silence around the end where the Captain and his
guests were seated. As the meal drew to a close, coffee and cakes
were served as a desert, and the Captain finally broke the
silence.
"Is there anything else you need, Miss Winslow?", he inquired
politely, to break the ice.
"Well, there is something I'd like to say", she replied quietly.
Standing up, she faced the crew, and spoke in a loud voice. "The
Captain has said that I will be allowed to roam the ship, if I
appologize for my behaviour.", she began. Then, picking up her
small desert, she hurled it at the Captain with a cry, "This is
all the appology you are going to get, you bastard!"
The Captain never flinched, letting the plate of cake strike him
in the chest. Standing, he brushed it off with a single angry
swipe of his hand, sending the plate clattering to the floor.
"Clear the foot table. The Captain's Mast is now called to
order", he ordered gruffly. Instantly the sailors began clearing
and moving the table nearest the door, the one that partially
closed the rectangle of dinner tables.
The First Mate escorted Karen to the opening this created. She
found herself to be the uncomfortable center of the crew's
attention. Still, she wouldn't let any nervousness show. She
wouldn't give the Captain the satisfaction.
Marcia stood to one side of the proceedings, concealing her smile
as best she could. She could see the ship's carpenter bringing an
armload of planks in behind Karen. Karen was paying attention to
the Captain, a look of amusement on her face.
"Miss Winslow", the Captain began sternly, "You were confined to
your cabin. In spite of that, you came to the bridge, ordered my
crew about, defied my authority, and struck me in front of
witnesses. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Karen smiled, intending to let the air out of his self
importance. "I don't have to explain, or justify anything to you.
I'm not a member of your crew. I don't work for you. What makes
you think I care what you say, or think. Who gave you the right
to order me around, anyway?
The Captain smiled slightly, as if to a private joke. He didn't
keep it private for very long. "Miss Winslow, I am the captain of
a ship at sea, in international waters. That makes me one of the
last absolute monarchs on earth. Maritime Law gives me the
authority to administer discipline to anyone on board, in any
manner and at any time I choose. To ensure the safety of my ship,
I am legally entitled to have you, or anyone else, thrown
overboard. And it would stand up in court." He paused to let
this sink in.
Karen realized that he was serious, and also realized that she was
at sea, many days from any help.
"I was willing to drop my order restricting you to your cabin.
All you had to do was appologize. Will you appologize now?", he
asked in a measured tone.
"No.", she replied flatly. "I wasn't endangering you or your
ship. You haven't got a case".
"Disrupting the disipline on a sailing ship is endangering it!",
the captain replied. "And as for having or not having a case,
you're wrong. You see, I don't have to make a 'Case' in court.
This room", he gestured expansively, "is the courthouse, this
meeting is the trial, and I am the judge." Again he paused, for
dramatic effect. "Having refused to provide any defense for your
actions, and having refused to offer appology, I have no choice
but to find you guilty of assault on a ship's officer, refusing
the lawful order of the ship's captain, and entering restricted
areas of the ship without permission. You are hereby fined ten
dollars, and restricted to quarters, under guard. You may pay the
quartermaster." he pronounced with finality.
"I'll do no such thing!", Karen declared firmly.
"Then you will work the fine off. Restrain her.", he ordered.
The bosun had been waiting for this. He grabbed the surprised
lady's arms, and had a loop of rope around them before she could
react. Her wrists were securely bound, and the ship's carpenter
brought out the thing he had been assembling in the background.
It was an old fashioned set of stocks, which he brought forward
and fastened down to a pair of cleats in the deck. Strong hands
bent the shocked, protesting lady forward, and she was locked in.
"You may work off your fine by selling kisses to the crew. Kisses
will cost five cents apiece. And, Miss Winslow", he finished with
a smile, "My men have been at sea twelve weeks, with only two
weekends of shore leave in that time."
The first crew member stepped up, wiped his mouth nervously, then
asked the Captain, "May I make a request, Captain".
The Captain nodded to the man.
"Sir, can I kiss her other lips?", he asked, gesturing towards
her skirted bottom, presented so beautifully by her pose. "I
promise, the lady'l enjoy it.", he finished, hopefully.
"No!" screamed Karen in protest. Her protest was ignored, as the
Captain considered the request, then ruled that this was
acceptable, but would cost twice as much, and that the man would
not be allowed to stop until the Karen had "Enjoyed it".
Marcia watched in disbelief as the Bosun stepped up behind Karen,
drew his work knife, and reached up under her skirt. With two
deft motions he cut the sides on her panties, and drew them out.
All she had had planned was the stocks, and the "kissing booth".
This was going to be even nastier than she had imagined. She
hadn't thought the Captain had it in him.
Karen locked her knees together, curling into a ball on the floor
to protect herself. Another set of stocks was produced, and her
feet were forced into them. They were then secured to the deck,
bracing her knees and spreading her feet almost four feet apart.
She was back in her bent over, butt-thrusting pose, unable to
move.
The man stepped up behind her, and began to raise her skirt. The
Quartermaster stopped him, and instructed that the sailors may put
their heads under her skirt, but couldn't expose her to the view
of the crew, since that wasn't part of the fine. The Captain
nodded agreement.
Marcia smiled openly now. Her bossy, bitchy employer was getting
hers, and good. She watched the carpenter bring in more planks,
and waited to see what else was in store. She smiled at the
Captain, who smiled back.
"Miss Carstairs,", the Captain began. "You were supposed to keep
Mis Winslow in her cabin. When she came to the bridge, where were
you?"
"Captain?", she said in surprise? "I was on deck, watching...",
she trailed off at the sight of the Captain's stern face. "I
guess I screwed up." she finished.
"You are hereby fined five dollars for deserting your post.
Please pay the Quartermaster".
"Yes sir.", she answered in a no-nonsense tone. "I'll go get my
purse right now."
"Not so fast.", the captain interrupted her. "The fine is payable
now, not 10 minutes from now."
Before she could reply, she felt strong hands grab her arms,
forcing her hands behind her back. She tried to resist, but in
moments her hands were bound the same way as Karen's. She wailed
in despair as she saw the carpenter wheel forward another set of
stocks. A firm hand took hold of the back of her neck, forcing
her head down as her hands were raised, bending her over and
placing her head in the stock. A few seconds more and she was
bound just like Karen was, hands behind her back, feet locked into
a spreader, and bent forward at the waist a full 90 degrees. She
felt the cold steel of the knife blade sliding under the waistband
of her panties, first on one side, then the other. The tug, then
release as her panties came away left her feeling incredibly
vulnerable, and started a small itch she was hoping would go away.
"Nooooo", she wailed. "You can't do this. Please." In spite
of her pleas, a man stepped behind her, and she felt his callosed
hands on her bottom, his thumbs pulling her vagina open. She
twisted her hips in a vain attempt to avoid what followed as the
man gently kissed her pussy, sucking her clit between his lips and
teasing it with his tongue. She tried desperately to think of
something, anything to distract herself with. It was no use. Her
concentration was constantly broken by the mounting cries from
Karen as she was driven, fighting the entire way, to her first
orgasm.
The Captain came over and crouched down facing Karen, his face
only a few inches from hers. "Well, I don't think you'll give me
any more smart-mouth on this trip. In fact, by the time the crew
is done with you, the only thing to come out of your mouth will be
drool. You'll be lucky if you can remember your own name."
"You sone of a bitch!", she screamed, spitting in his face.
"You are fined an additional dollar.", he said calmly, wiping his
face. "Care to add anything more?" After a moment of silence, he
moved on.
As he crouched near Marcia, she asked him, "H-h-how can you do
this to me? I was on your siiiieeeeed?" Her question trailed off
into a rising wail as the man behind her drove her to the edge,
her body shaking with the force of her rising passion.
The captain waited a few moments while she regained some composure
before replying. "I am saving your job, Miss Carstairs.", he
explained in an ever-so-reasonable tone. "Your employer would
have fired you for not helping her. Now, since you are both in
the same boat, so to speak, she won't be able to blame you.
Assuming she has a mind left when this is over." He chuckled
nastily at the look of shock on her face as the man resumed his
work, sucking, licking, nibbling and teasing her out of her mind.
"Besides", he added, "it was your idea, after all." He watched
her shake and spasm within her bondage as the forced orgasm tore
through her. "Don't worry. Only forty-nine more to go", he
laughed.
The End
Comments welcome
The Bear
thk...@netvoyage.net