Cruise (8 page)

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Authors: Jurgen von Stuka

Tags: #Erotica

BOOK: Cruise
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“Enjoying your vacation, Karine?” Brillcart intoned as he picked up a long, flexible riding crop from the collection displayed on the opposite wall. Not waiting for an answer, he slashed the beautiful, bound and well displayed buttocks brutally with three cuts, leaving deep, bloody welts in the already scared ass and upper thighs. The girl flinched at each cut, a low gurgling sound coming from inside the hood. Clearly, she was deeply gagged inside the hood and, based on the scars across her back, buttocks and thighs had been through this ghastly routine before. Brillcart, of course, didn’t know that his much sought-after nemesis, Bibi Lynx, had delivered the whipping earlier that same day. Karine shifted her head a fraction of an inch, all that the chain allowed, and twitched her ass cheeks. At each blow, she made the bleating sound, a sound of horror, pain and pleading. Of course, her attacker could not have cared less. He had a fixed agenda and only so much time to spend with her today, so he got right down to business.

He unfastened the tight leather belt around her slim waist, pulling the crotch strap and hoses away at the same time and letting them fall to the floor. The deeply set, hollow ass plug came away with the belt and hoses. A small trickle of fluid followed and slowly ran down the girl’s shackled legs. Brillcart let the belt and hoses fall nearby, ignoring the unpleasant odor of semi liquid waste and excrement.

“Someone will deal with your sloppiness later, Karine,” he said, as he sprayed a cold mixture of alcohol and oil on the entire exposed backside of the prisoner. “This solution will burn a bit, but it is a most effective disinfectant and will also cover the unpleasant aroma you seem to have fostered with your less than sanitary habits. But now, as I promised during our ride from Berlin, I want to continue our little sexual interlude.”

Putting the spray bottle aside, Brillcart removed his belt, dropped his trousers and underwear to his ankles, stepped out of them and briefly swiped his growing erection back and forth across the girl’s swollen and bleeding ass checks. He brought the tip of his cock up and into her crotch, poked the somewhat spread cunt and then jammed the entire length of his tool deep into the recently unplugged ass of the pinioned girl. A long, tormented groan emerged from inside the leather hood. The ass cheeks shook and the hips seemed to slowly rotate as Brillcart rummaged around inside her ass, sliding his surprisingly long and turgid dick in and out of the service hole, reaching around and squeezing the hanging breasts with their heavy steel rings in the nipples. He was in no hurry and the girl presented neither resistance nor further response.

“Pity about your friend,” he said as he continued rutting. “We almost had her and I was hoping that she would be here to join you, but then, she remains marked for death and will soon suffer as you have. I always get revenge and you two deserve what you, my dear, sweet, little Bavarian piglet, are going to continue to get.”

The buggered girl gave no sign that she was even alive and Brillcart continued his fucking tirade.

“When your sentence here is finished, I have a nice place in the country already picked out for you. They will keep you as a production milk source for as long as you are profitable, then I suspect you’ll find some other work in a mine or quarry. In a very short time, you will wish that you were back here, bent over this rail and receiving your periodic fucking and buggering, for what lies in store for you and your friend, Bibi, at the dairy farm is not going to have any appeal at all. I doubt these,” he tugged on her chained nipples while he continued to hammer away at her ass, “have ever been hooked up to a machine and properly milked, but then again, you seem to have a lot of hidden needs and talents, so the dairy may not hold any major terrors for you. We’ll see when the time comes.”

Brillcart delivered this narrative while plunging in and out of the unresponsive ass. He tugged on her tit chains, slapped the already glowing buttocks and then, without any warning, came inside the immobilized young woman. He withdrew slowly and walked awkwardly around the chained figure until he had his sex directly in front of her forward facing, hooded head. He unsnapped the mouth hole covering on the hood, pulled the large rubber penis-shaped form from her propped open mouth and inserted his own dick, making sure that the internal mouth ring was still in place, holding her jaws wide while the suddenly alive tongue inside her mouth began to lick and swab his dick clean.

“Very good, Karine. Very good. But damn, you once again have succeeded in getting me hard, you lascivious bitch. Guess that means your cunt is due for an exploratory drilling as well. And just to show you how I can be appreciative, I’ll leave this rubber dickie out while I root around in your pussy.” The only acknowledgement he got was a deep sigh from the propped open jaws.

Brillcart shuffled back to his original position behind the girl, moved up until his stomach pressed against her bloody ass and easily inserted his rock hard prick into the forward space recently vacated by the combination electronic dildoe and catheter. This time the girl responded with a loud verbal moan and a fart from her now empty asshole.

“My, my, Karine, too bad about that methane escape. You know what that will get you, don’t you? The nipple suction fittings will be attached to your tits after I leave and you can enjoy a full eight hours of having your tits sucked and milked. This is excellent training for what is to come, so I know you’ll appreciate it. You should restrain yourself from venting those gaseous elements so that when you get to the farm you can accommodate us with plenty of gas for the heating system in winter,” Brillcart laughed and, as was his custom, punctuated his comments with deeper and harder thrusts into the depths of the already well-stretched and lubricated cunt below him. The girl babbled incoherently as he fucked her.

It took longer than the ass reaming and she seemed to be getting into it when Brillcart came once again and quickly pulled out, observing with detachment the continued slow rotation of the girl’s hips and ass, even though his own rough plunging had ceased.

“Ah, Karine, you are such a whore,” he lectured the former grade school teacher as he pulled up his pants and fastened his belt. “I had no idea you were so into being bound and fucked, but you are, despite your preference for girls, a great fuck and I will see to it that your daily rations are appropriately supplemented with more sexual stimulants tonight. Perhaps we can do this again soon. I enjoy your cunt and asshole immensely, preferring them to the dark and ruined caves of some of your dungeon mates, for sure. So…until next time, enjoy the freedom you have now. Hans will come by later to demonstrate how the electrical milkers work and take care of your physical therapy, reposition you for the next twenty-four hours and attend to any of your sanitary requirements. Have a nice day, as the Americans say.”

Brillcart stepped to the cell door, unlocked it and eased himself out and back into the damp corridor. He left the light on in the cell and caught one final, tantalizing view of Bibi’s suffering friend, bent forward, stretched over the steel rail with fluids running down her legs, her glowing, beaten ass sticking up into the air, arms pulled forward with the heavy manacles and chains and her nice, ripe tits stretched towards the floor.

“What a nice piece of ass,” Brillcart said as he slammed the steel door. It suddenly occurred to him that he had not, as yet, responded to the recently encrypted email from a wealthy African Diamond Mine operator, enquiring about his desire and need for a young European slut that he could add to his “facility”, as he called it.

“While I usually get my supplies by boat from the Caribbean,” the message said, “there are times when that provider falls short of my increasingly broad needs. If you have anything available, please send me details, as I am prepared to pay more than the going rate for fine merchandise.”

Brillcart ruminated about this request and made a mental note to learn more about this Caribbean slave source and considered offering Karine, and hopefully Bibi as well, as a package deal to the African mine owner.

Might be more thrilling for them to visit the deep and forbidding kingdom of the darkest continent
, he considered, once again noting that Karine was indeed several levels better, more refined, than much of his present collection of dungeon sluts.

“I’ll bet the big blond is even better,” Brillcart said quietly to himself. “Until I get her in here, I’ll just have to remain satisfied with you, her girl fuck friend. I have a feeling that once she finds out that I have you, it won’t be long before she arrives on my doorstep with her legs spread, begging me to take her and let you go. That’ll be the day, ha, ha, ha...” he laughed as he left the prison level and went back to his office to contemplate exactly how his often dreamt-of fantasy could be further enhanced.

Chapter Four

Yacht

Bibi Lynx looked at the yacht as one might survey the façade of a large skyscraper on a principal street in Berlin or Frankfurt. By standing alongside the massive, rising blue hull, she was unable to see the front, back or top of the vessel. Both ends were obscured by the boat’s very length and size. What she could see was a well-lit entrance across the wide gangway. A set of wide metal double doors framed the opening in the ship’s hull. An elegant protective awning stretched overhead and shielded the two security officers on either side of the hatchway from the radiant Miami sun.

“I guess this is it,” Bibi said to herself as she lifted her worn cotton duffle onto her shoulder and stepped onto the sparkling aluminum and hardwood gangway. As she approached, the two security officers came together in the middle of the doorway, assumed a somewhat rigid, at attention, stance and visually inspected Bibi. Two sets of eyes scanned her. The two young women in white crew uniforms surveyed Bibi and appeared to be mentally checking off a list:

*Neatly painted toenails peeking out of her well-worn sandals. Check.

*Brief and snug white tennis shorts, enclosing, just barely, an excellent ass, flat stomach and showing a great deal of long, trim leg. Check.

*Tight white T-shirt with the yacht’s small eagle and tuna emblem slightly above the nipple on her exceptionally well-formed, braless, left breast. Check.

*Long blond hair, pulled tightly back into a sun-streaked ponytail. Check.

*Weathered and well-used black duffle over one shoulder and a large, black, Mark Cross leather briefcase in her right hand. Check.

*Darkly tinted Ray-Ban sunglasses. Check.

*No jewelry except a Bell & Ross, BR 01-94 Chronograph Automatic watch on a black carbon fiber band around her left wrist. Check.

Bibi felt as if she had just been X-Rayed.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” the taller woman said formally. “May we see your photo identification and papers?”

Bibi stopped on the gangway, put down her briefcase and duffel and dug out an envelope from the hip pocket of her shorts. She handed it to the second female officer and stared hard enough at the first woman to cause her to unconsciously take a step backward into the flexible, hanging air curtain and the relative safety and air conditioning of the ship. The first officer opened the envelope, removed some papers, read a portion of the top one and then, replacing them all in the envelope, nodded to Bibi and said, “Welcome aboard Altuna, Ms. Lynx. I’ll show you to your quarters.”

She turned on the heel of her soft, rubber soled deck shoe and started down a corridor leading aft. Bibi picked up her gear and followed, carefully inspecting the gleaming painted and polished surfaces of the walls and floor.

“Captain Ingram will phone for you shortly in your cabin. Please remain there until you are summoned,” the woman said over her shoulder as they rounded a corner and took a flight of carpeted metal stairs up three levels and went further aft down yet another anonymous corridor.

“Don’t worry,” Bibi said. “I doubt I could find my way out of this labyrinth if I wanted to. I always have trouble finding my way on ships. The last cruise I was on I just stayed in the cabin most of the time,” she said, thinking about the five days she recently spent bound and gagged in the penthouse suite with Nate providing to her every personal and sexual need. “How do you find your way around?”

“It will come to you quickly,” the woman said, still walking briskly down the passageway. “But don’t worry. I’ve been on board for about eight months and still get lost now and then. You see these,” she said, stopping at a small polished brass plaque bolted to the bulkhead at eye level.

Bibi looked at what appeared to be some sort of hieroglyphics and nodded.

“These are your keys to where you are. They tell you the deck level you are on, the corridor, the intersection and, perhaps most importantly, the fastest escape route in an emergency.”

Bibi nodded, still mystified by the series of symbols, letters and numbers. “So what does F2s, *8*, FWD>20M mean?”

“You are on F deck. There are 12 decks, including the one with the pilot house, which is A, and the engine room and tank levels which are L and M. You are in 2 corridor which runs nearly the full length of the vessel at this point, and the “s” reminds you that it’s on the starboard side. That’s the right side. You’ll find some useful reading in your cabin and it will get you tuned into nautical jargon like port and starboard, bulkheads and ladders and bow and stern.”

“Great,” smiled Bibi as they stopped at a brightly varnished teakwood door with a polished brass plate that said “VIP SUITE 1”. Bibi stared at the plate, wondering how she rated that kind of accommodations. “Ho, how did I rate this?” she asked, a bit stunned at the star treatment thus far.

“You’re a VIP. You work for the captain and the owners only. You are entitled to a VIP cabin and all that goes with it. And, if you don’t mind me saying so, the security team is very happy to have you aboard.”

“Thanks. I’m glad to be here…I think. Can you finish the decoding of the wall panel?”

“Oh, yes. Sure. The star eight star means that you are at the intersection of cross-corridor eight. They are numbered from bow to stern in ascending order. So if you are confused, you can go to the next cross passageway and if its star nine star you know you are heading aft. If its star seven star, you are headed forward. Get it?”

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