Birthday Gift Synopsis

“Hey, she’s not the same Polly that you used to knock off years ago, is she? Didn’t she marry your brother?”

“Sure did, and now he’s given her back to me.”

Birthday Gift

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF Rom Spanking

If you are underage or offended by such material, or if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies. In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.

© obohobo 2010

Wednesday 14^th April 2010

“Happy 30^th little brother. The big three-O deserves a present that is rather different to our usual gifts. I know that traditionally we exchange presents that are pretty useless, presents that make us smile, sometimes they even bring forth a burst of laughter, but within a day or two, are discarded. Occasionally a gift is so stupidly humorous, we keep it for a few months to show our friends but even then, it is thrown away long before the next birthday. I wonder how long you will keep my present this time and if you will laugh, smile or groan?” he paused for a long while. I stood slightly behind him and nervously waited and watched for his brother’s reaction, not at all sure I liked the idea but I’d agreed to it. “Rory, this is my gift to you this year.” Taking my hand he led me to his brother, “Rory, my wife Polly.” Abruptly he turned, walked to the car and drove off, leaving me on the quayside and my two suitcases sitting on the tarmac in the car park.

Neither of us anticipated Leonard’s swift departure and for a short time, Rory stood dumbfounded and I felt tears forming in my eyes in case he rejected me. I needn’t have worried. He quickly got over the shock and his arms clasped me in a hug and his lips found mine. “This is a more welcome present than his usual ones,” he laughed, “Let me put your cases in the launch and then we’ll go into the café out of the wind, and have a mug of tea and you can explain what brought this about.”

Effortlessly he carried my belongings down the stone steps and deposited them in the little motor boat that would take me to the old barge moored half a mile or so down river, the boat that has been his home for many years.

“Two teas please, Betty, and meet Polly. She’s likely to be in here with me for a while.”

“Yeah, like a week, or maybe two if she’s like all the others.” Betty had a huge grin on her face. “Hey, she’s not the same Polly that you used to knock off years ago, is she? Didn’t she marry your brother?”

“Sure did, and now he’s given her back to me.”

My blushes would have lit up a dark room but fortunately a crowd of workmen came in wanting meals and Betty left us in peace. The noise level in the small room rose so we couldn’t hold a conversation and I drank my tea and thought back to my teenage years whilst Rory kept his hand on my knee.

I’d had other boyfriends before meeting Rory but he became my first serious boyfriend, serious for me but not for him. While I kept to him exclusively, he dated other girls. It came to a head one weekend when I’d arranged to meet him at his house before going to the cinema, only to find Leo alone there. “Sorry, Polly, Susan came round and he went out with her,” he apologised. I wasn’t even late. When I burst into tears, Leo offered to take me out.

The two brothers are totally different in character. Rory is dominant, forceful, sexually exciting and demanding and always wants to ‘play the field’. Leo is quiet, reserved and unimaginative when it comes to sex. Boring. Nevertheless he’s a gentleman and always behaved correctly towards me. I wanted Rory though and kept seeing him as my steady and he did indeed have fewer girls on the side, but when, near the end of our time at university, I mentioned marriage, he forthrightly and unambiguously told me, “No. One girl isn’t enough for me at least for the foreseeable future.” On the rebound, I turned my attentions to Leo and dated him through my last months at university.

Rory lived with his parents at the time but had the use of his grandfather’s 85 ft. Thames sailing barge, the ‘Anna May’, long ago converted into a houseboat but now bereft of its sails and spars, still able to move at a stately 10 knots under its the power of its twin diesel engines. As well as this he had his own little sailing dinghy which I went out in several times. At university he studied Marine Biology and afterwards obtained a post with the Society for the Protection of the Marine Environment (SPOME). His grandfather died and left the barge and an allowance for its maintenance to Rory and he’s lived on it ever since. Although old, the interior is well furnished and nicely equipped with most modern conveniences.

I obtained a degree in accountancy but only worked for nine months before marrying Leo. What a mistake. I soon found out that he wasn’t the dominant male that I needed, in fact he was an utter wimp, a gentleman but a wimp. We didn’t go anywhere, we rarely had sex; we were more like an elderly stay-at-home couple. As I became more and more bored and frustrated I frequently, disparagingly, compared him with his brother. Leo apologised but said I knew the sort of person he was when we married and he couldn’t be the demanding man I thought I wanted. Despite this I remained faithful to him and now, sitting in the café, I wondered why. I recalled the argument we’d had a week previously about our lives, or at least, I argued and he sat back and largely said nothing until I again unfavourably compared him to Rory. “I ought to have married him, at least I’d have some excitement in my life.”

After a long silence he looked at me with sadness and said, “Well if that’s how you feel, I’ll give you to him.” He left it there and refused to answer any of my questions as to what he meant but I couldn’t get the remark out of my mind, although he never mentioned it again until he woke me early on the birthday morning. “Get up and pack what you’ll need to live with Rory for a while. We’re meeting him on Bleston Quay at ten o’clock. It’s his birthday and you will be his present. We’ll see how long he keeps it this year.” Of course I knew of the tradition of useless gifts and until now, he’d culled joke shops and Internet sites specialising in absurd presents, but I couldn’t believe he’d put me in that category. For almost the first time since our marriage he acted forcibly and thrust aside my arguments that he couldn’t do that to me with, “That’s what you wanted and if he discards you after a few days, you can come back here and live a normal life.” He thought our life normal!

On the drive to Bleston, I looked forward to seeing and being with Rory again but I also worried as to the reception I’d receive and more particularly, did Rory already have a woman living with him? If so, would I have to play second fiddle to her? How would he treat me? Would I be his slave? We’d played master and slave games when we’d been together but only for an hour or two and for fun, now I might have to live a slave’s life 24/7. Could I stand it or would I want to return to Leo and his so-called normal life?

“Time to go. We can’t talk here.” Rory interrupted my thoughts.

“Hey, Rory, I just remembered,” Betty yelled above the noise, “Happy birthday, how old are you? Forty-five? Was she your present?”

The clamour ceased and all the workmen turned in our direction and I wanted quietly disappear but Rory took it in his stride, “You could say that.”

“You going to unwrap her here?” one of the men shouted.

“Not with you lot around! See you Betty.” With that we headed for the launch.

We paused at the top of the steps and as I watched the waves of the river Blest lap against the stonework, I again wondered if I’d, made the right decision. Rory sensed this. “You do realise, Poll, that once you get into my boat, you are mine until I wish to get rid of you. You will be my personal harem slave. I won’t maim you but there will be times when I shall punish your misbehaviour or refusal to do my bidding. If you cannot accept that, say so now and I’ll phone Leo to pick you up and you can resume your life with him.”

Zipping my coat tightly against the chill April wind and clutching the handrail, I made my way down the slippery steps.

“This is my cabin with the nice large bed which I’m sure you remember from all those years ago. You’ll sleep in here unless I have another woman with me then you may either sleep with us or in the cabin next door depending on our mood. You can store all your stuff in the other cabin because you won’t be wearing much when you’re with me and you can throw your bras and knickers away because you won’t be wearing them.” His speech and other comments he made whilst giving me a tour of the barge, made it clear that there would indeed be times when he’d treat me as his harem slave and he further reinforced this when I’d put my clothes away, by ordering me into the saloon. “Time for me to unwrap my present. Don’t I get the ‘Happy Birthday’ song from you?” and we laughed at my effort at singing.

Slowly he undressed me and as each area of flesh became exposed he kissed or massaged it until I became very aroused and would have willingly opened my legs and allowed him to fuck me. Instead he wanted a blowjob. I suppose that is a slave’s life; it’s not what I want that matters but at least I had more sexual excitement in an hour than I’d had for the last few years. With the generator humming in the background and the electric heater on low, I didn’t need clothing and enjoyed him playing with my tits and squeezing my nipples. Wondering what he would do if I refused but at this stage not wishing to find out, I knelt between his legs, opened his flies and fished out his already hard prick. For a short while I gently massaged its meaty length and mentally compared it with my husband’s smaller one but a touch on the back of my head reminded me to open my mouth and take it in. In my boredom at home, I’d often resorted to watching porn on the Internet, seeing actresses seemingly sucking men with great enthusiasm, and I tried to imitate them. I sucked and rubbed his prick and either his balls were already on a hair trigger or my performance was better than I thought, for he quickly shot his spunk into my mouth.

“That was pretty good for an untrained slave,” Rory grinned and sat me on his lap without giving me any chance to spit it out. I knew he expected me to swallow it and I did.

His face then took on a serious expression. “First Polly, I want to know how and why this came about. Why did my brother even consider giving you to me? He surely realises that he could lose you forever? Even if you don’t stay with me, I can’t see you going back to a man who gave you to another for sex.” I explained as well as I could, my deteriorating relationship with Leo and the boredom of my life and how I doubted if our marriage would have lasted much longer.

“I can’t see you being bored here or not getting enough sex but I should make your position clear. You were given to me as a present and so, in my mind, I own you, sort of like a slave; a sex slave, but unlike in the stories I’ve no doubt you’ve read, I daren’t whip you or flog you until you bleed. I wouldn’t want to do that either. I want you for sex and will want to do it in a variety of ways and probably will introduce others as well and some of these things you may well object to. Nevertheless you will do them and I will punish you if you don’t, by hand spanking or with a strap. You will certainly feel very sore afterwards but the soreness will go after a couple of days. I don’t expect to have to do that very often but will, as and when necessary. I’m the master; you’re the slave. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” The threat of a spanking with a strap worried me but I’d gone over that in my mind on the journey and I’d certainly wanted a more forceful man than wimp, Leo.

“Besides being a slave, you’ll also act as my wife and partner and assist with the cooking and cleaning of this boat, including the upkeep of the paintwork, so you’ll have a variety of work to do, some clean but others can be very mucky but I won’t expect you to do any work I wouldn’t do myself. We’ll also take time off to go out in this tub or the ‘Esmeralda’ my 25 ft. day sailer. You’ll need to learn to handle the launch and probably the fishing boat too so it won’t be all work and no play. I also have work to do for SPOME but you may find that of interest too. They hire a little fishing boat I go out on and take water samples and report on the wild life in and along the river.” He waited for my reaction but went on, “I’m not going to ask how you feel about it because, as a slave, you don’t have any choice.” He grinned widely and gave me a hug.

Certainly I would have a much fuller lifestyle with him and it wouldn’t all be orgiastic parties, in fact, I noted that he didn’t mention parties at all.

“Okay, get off your arse and start making lunch.” He gently pushed me off his lap and headed for the galley.

The boat trip

I wanted more excitement in my life and I certainly had more than I expected that first afternoon. “Get dressed when you’ve put the dishes away, we’re getting low on water so we’ll take this old tub to the quay and fill up and top up the fuel tanks and then take her for a run down river. It’s time you learnt how to handle the ‘Anna May’.” Soon I heard and felt the throb of the two diesel engines and looked forward to my first trip out on her. Not only that but he made me stand behind the big, brass bound, wooden steering wheel and guide her for part of the way. She seemed awfully big and the bow a long way from where I stood at the wheel.

As we neared the quayside, as per his instructions I threw a light line with a heavy knot on the end to a man on the quay and he pulled a heavier rope across and slid the bight over a bollard to moor us. Half-an-hour later, the diesels throbbed again and slowly we headed through the anchorage towards the sea. Again he left me in charge while he tidied up the ropes and walked the length of the barge and back.

“I’ll make some tea, you keep her on this heading and yell down the hatch if anything comes too close. Those little boats should keep clear of us,” he instructed.

Well one of them didn’t. A tiny sailing dinghy with two girls as crew, zipped along on the fresh breeze heading straight for us. The crew girl leant as far out as the trapeze would allow in order to keep the craft upright. I wasn’t too worried because I knew they could turn on a pinhead. Too late I realised they intended to cross our bows and there’d be little room to spare. Almost instinctively I closed the throttles to the engines but you don’t slow a boat that size down in a hurry. Rory’s head appeared above the hatch and seeing the situation quickly came on deck and rushed forward. The girls must have eased off their course slightly to avoid collision but they still sped along at high speed until they came into the lee of the ‘Anna May’. The high sides of the barge took their wind and with both girls leaning well out to keep the boat upright, the sudden lack of force in the sails caught them by surprise and they and the dinghy toppled over backwards and capsized. The girls ended up in the cold water but were kitted out with wet suits and life jackets and were in no immediate danger and the boat didn’t completely capsize because the top of the mast caught in the barge’s rail.

“Hold on to it,” Rory yelled to me and went to a deck locker, retrieved a rope ladder, which he hung over the side for the girls to climb aboard. As far as we could tell, their boat was undamaged except the halyard holding the mainsail up had broken. With Rory in charge we freed the boat and used the davits normally used to hoist the motor launch, to lift the boat on deck.

By then the wind had swung the barge across the river and Rory ordered me into the wheelhouse and to resume our course. It pleased me that he had confidence in my ability to handle her after such a short time, while he and the girls took the sails down and sorted out the dinghy. I certainly enjoyed being in charge of the, to me, huge boat and quickly learned how she responded to my movements of the wheel. Presently they joined me in the wheelhouse, the girls now shivering from being out in the cool breeze. “This is Polly my new slave,” he introduced me and after they’d stopped giggling he introduced Sandra the older girl and whom he’d obviously known intimately, and she named the other girl as Ron, short for Veronica.

“She’s a virgin Rory,” Sandra informed us.

“That’s sad, but maybe another time we can do something about that. Not today though, I want to enjoy my slave later. Take them down the fore hatch and get their wet things off, Poll, and then show them into the saloon where it’s warmer and find some towels and dry them off.”

“We can manage on our own and I know the way,” Sandra piped up.

“I know you do but I need to train Polly to follow instructions. Make sure she does a good job and dries everywhere.” I too stuttered a protest but Rory only reinforced his orders with specific instructions. Ron looked worried and shocked but Sandra grinned and suggested that Rory would do a better job of drying her.

“How long have you been his slave?” Sandra asked when I helped peel off her wet suit in the fore berth.

“All of six hours now. It’s his birthday and I’m his present.”

I found towels in the bathroom and suggested the naked girls rinsed the salt off in the shower before I took them into the saloon. Ron tried to cover her tits with her arms but Sandra openly displayed herself and several times thrust her tits in my face. Being clothed, I felt slightly superior but my mind flashed back to the times my roommate and I had little lesbian flings and I began to get a little horny around these two late teenagers. At first I clinically dried their backs and hair but Sandra soon indicated she wanted her tits and cunt dried properly and I knew she wanted to play. Ron tried to look the other way but when I attacked her with a dry towel, she too began to respond, at least her nipples hardened.

“Is this slavery a short term thing? Sandra asked.

“Depends on how long he wants it to last. My husband gave me to him so it could be for keeps.” Then began the questions. Would I be forced to have sex? Would I be spanked? Tied to the mast and flogged? Would I take it up the bum? Even Ron joined in but by now they were dry and sitting in the warm saloon and no doubt wondering how they would get ashore and if they would have to put their wet, wet-suits on again. I’d hung them up but they’d take hours to dry and at the time, I didn’t know about the fan heater.

“Poll, on deck with you!” I saw we were approaching the anchorage. “We’ve to go passed the launch, turn round and head slowly back against the tide. You man the wheel and watch for my signals.” He gave more instructions as to what the signals meant and stood beside me while I spun the wheel and used the two engines as well as the rudder to turn the ‘Anna May’ in a tight circle in the confined area. As we slowly approached the launch, he ran to the bow, grabbed a boathook and directed me with hand signals. To my relief it all went to plan and he soon hooked the mooring buoy and made us fast.

I expected to hear shouts of indignation as Rory led the way below but Ron only picked a cushion and held it against her body. “Make a pot of tea, Poll, and there’s a packet of biscuits in the left hand cupboard, I’ve a few words to say to this pair.” From the conversation that drifted through to me, I gather Rory took Sandra to task for her poor seamanship and for putting her life and that of her friend at risk. The girls looked much chastened when I entered with the tea. But Rory hadn’t finished. “So Sandra, either you come and lay across my lap and take a spanking as punishment or I put the pair of you in your little boat and you can paddle your way to shore wearing only a life jacket.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me! You have until I’ve drunk my tea to make up your mind.”

They argued, or at least Sandra tried to, Ron remained quiet but looked very apprehensive. “And you’ll find us some clothes and take us in the launch if I do it?” Sandra capitulated.

“Yes, I said that,” Rory confirmed.

Slowly she went and laid herself across his lap and I felt a tingle of excitement, partly because I wasn’t overly keen on the rather brash Sandra and wanted to see her bum reddened, and partly because it could foretell the punishment that I might get if I disobeyed him. Ron’s eyes showed her excitement too.

Rory didn’t spare her and alternately walloped each of her bottom cheeks with his hard hand until they were deep red and she blubbered and pleaded for him to stop. He did, of course, and then ordered me to find them something suitable to wear for the trip to the quay. I hesitated. Where would I find clothes for them? “You’ve got clothes in your room that will fit them better than anything I have. Go and find something. You’re my property now so your clothes are mine too.” Not wishing a spanking like I’d just witnessed, at least not in front of the girls, I went and found jeans and sweaters. They were rather too big for Ron but small for Sandra. She had to leave the top button of the jeans undone and rely on a belt to hold them up.

We deposited them at the quay, helped get their boat on its trailer and pulled it into the sailing clubhouse park. “We’re going to the supermarket now and if the launch is here when you’ve changed into your own clothes, leave Polly’s in the launch, if not leave them with Betty at the café. She’ll want the story though.” To my great relief, they were in the launch when we returned.

In the launch on the way back to the barge, Rory made me sit on the thwart with my legs wide apart and steer with the wheel on the side. He couldn’t see anything because of my trousers but I guessed he mentally took them off, and my other clothes too. “No doubt they’ll come off for real when we get back,” I mused and then wondered at him making me learn how to handle, first the barge and then the launch. “Is he doing it because he intends to keep me for a while? For good? Surely he wouldn’t bother to train me for just a few days stay? Not if I my role was only to be his harem slave.” When I fluffed the approach to the ‘Anna May’ and had to make a second attempt, he grinned and said, “Ten spanks for incompetence,” and I wondered if my training would be an excuse for punishments.

He never mentioned it whilst we cooked and ate dinner and my sitting with my blouse undone and revealing my tits, the only sexual happening until after I’d cleared the dishes. “Time for me to play with my harem slave,” he announced, “Do a strip tease act for me.” The only music, the rhythmic sound of waves slapping against the hull in the freshening wind, didn’t inspire me but I made an effort to undress in a sexy way and then undress him. I hadn’t seen him naked for nearly ten years and in that time he’d filled out and his muscles had hardened from the physical work he did. Again I compared him to the flabby Leo and decided to do my best to stay. His erect prick stood out firmly and I grabbed and started to massage it. “Not yet, Polly girl, there’s a little matter of your punishment to rectify first.”

I pleaded that I’d never driven the launch before and the wind had blown it off course when I shut the engine down but he didn’t accept my pleas, indeed, he threatened to add extras if I continued. I shut up and lay myself across his bare thighs, his prick nestled against my left side and I fully expected a spanking like Sandra’s. “You’ve a nice arse Polly,” he commented as he rubbed his hands over my cheeks, squeezed them and then ran his fingers between my thighs. Not what I expected.

Smack! Without any warning he struck my right cheek quite hard, causing me to yelp. “Slaves must learn to take their punishments quietly otherwise they get extra,” he warned but I could hear the laughter in his voice. I gritted my teeth while he continued to ‘warm my bum’ as he put it. The smacking stung, but he certainly didn’t hit with the force he’d used on Sandra, and when he finished, his hands once again roamed over my bottom and then forced my legs apart so he could rub my mound. Quickly my juices flowed and I prayed that this time he’d fuck me properly. I didn’t have to wait long.

Scooping me in his arms he carried me to the main berth, tossed me unceremoniously on the bed and forced my legs well apart and then on to his shoulders. I groaned with pleasure as, for the first time for many years, I felt a prick delightfully filling and stretching my vagina. Moaning and mewing with pleasure, when he thrust into me I thrust back and soon climaxed. He came shortly after and collapsed on top of me. Pulling his face close to mine, I kissed him and forced my tongue in his mouth and he in mine. For a while we lay like real lovers, kissing, cuddling and nibbling at each other’s bodies. For me the fucking was great but I wondered if he compared me to all the other girls he’d had. I didn’t dare ask.

We fucked again before going to sleep. Standard missionary position under the duvet but nonetheless, very enjoyable and I had another orgasm. Two in one day, that must be a record! Rory fell asleep soon after but I lay awake for a long while, listening to the strange noises a boat makes when it is afloat and to the water splashing against the steel hull and looking back to my first day of slavery. I realised not all days would hold the same excitement, but I looked forward to spending time with my brother-in-law.

A working day

“Today’s a working day. Dave will bring his fishing boat at eight and we’ll follow the river down a bit further than we went yesterday and take water samples. On the way back, near low water time, we’ll collect mud and sand samples. They’ll all be sent to the Fisheries Lab for analysis but I usually bring some extras back for my own interest. Dave, will want to put in his trawl too and I’ll stream a couple of plankton nets. Did you pack any wellies?”

“Only little short ones I had for gardening. I don’t have proper ones. Sorry.” I wondered if my failure to have them would result in another spanking but he replied, “We’ll get you a pair at the weekend if we don’t go ashore today.”

“Morn’n Dave, meet Polly, my birthday present. She’ll be coming with us and learning the ropes.” Dave, a stereotyped fisherman, with a bearded, weather beaten face, and wearing a sailor’s cap and a smock, looked about 60, but he greeted me cheerfully enough.

“I never get a birthday present like that,” he smiled, “Welcome aboard, Miss.”

“Your wife would murder you if you brought a young girl home,” Rory replied. I had time to look around while the men discussed the weather and plans for the day. The blue-hulled, 30 ft vessel, ‘Misty Morn’, had a wide stern and nets were neatly stacked on the aft deck and marker buoys lashed to the rigging. I could smell the mix of fish and salt in the air, a smell that I didn’t find unpleasant and added to the working atmosphere of the fishing boat. Gulls circled and squawked overhead, watching for any morsel we might discard, making me feel alive and part of the world and already I’d forgotten the spanking. At home I’d probably be vacuuming an already clean floor.

“Get into the wheelhouse with Dave and he’ll show you what to do. You’ll need to be able to control her without help soon and Dave is kinder to newcomers than I am.” My thoughts once more turned to my ‘slavery’. “If Rory expects him to train me to help him, he must expect me to stay. Does Leo expect an early return though?”

“We don’t have to keep our speed down now we’re through the moorings so when we’re clear of things here, you can open her to nearly full power. I like to keep a bit in reserve for emergencies and it keeps the fuel consumption down.” We started quite slowly from the barge and then Dave gave the order, “Open her up now.” I pushed the throttle and felt the boat lift slightly and saw the bow wave increase as we surged forward much faster than the ‘Anna May’. Dave stood alongside me and when he saw I could control the vessel, started with his questions. “Howd’ya meet Rory? He didn’t say anything about you comin’.”

“He’s my brother-in-law and I knew him from years ago.” That didn’t satisfy Dave and he, abetted by Rory, learned the story.

It gave me a great sense of power to be in charge of such a powerful beast, but it wasn’t long before I had to shut the engine down to idle while they checked the GPS co-ordinates and took a water sample. By the sixth time we were out of the river and into the open sea close to an island. The mainland I could see in the distant haze.

We headed back and a short while later Dave ordered, “Close her down to just ticking over, keep in the wheelhouse out of the way and watch for my signals. I don’t want you tangled up in the net. We hardly seemed to move and in fact, if it hadn’t been for bits of weed in the water, I would not have believed we moved at all. Rory streamed a couple of small nets which he said would catch tiny creatures that swam in the sea and then made tea and we ate our sandwiches.

They hauled the nets half-an-hour later. Rory put the contents of his in plastic containers and the contents of the trawl they dumped into a large plastic tray. I saw several fish and lots of crabs but in general, I kept out of the way. We shot the trawl again and this time they launched a rubber dinghy with a small outboard motor. “We’re going to take some samples from the shore, keep her on the same course until we get back. If you get into trouble or have a problem, use the mobile to contact us.” He gave me a phone and told me the speedkey number.

I must admit I let my mind wander and had a quick look at the contents of the tray. All the crabs had been thrown over the side, a couple of the fish flapped about but most lay still. During my looking at the fish, we drifted off course a little but I recovered and hoped they wouldn’t notice. Fortunately they didn’t or at least they didn’t remark on it and we had a better catch of fish when they hauled the net so that put me in their good books.

Arriving back on the barge about teatime, we cooked the fish Dave gave us with some frozen chips and, as the previous night, I had to show my tits while we ate and discussed the day’s trip. I’d certainly enjoyed my day out and looked forward to it happening again. “It’s far removed from my idea of a harem slave’s life,” I mentioned to Rory and asked about the samples and later he showed magnified images of them on a computer screen. Amazing.

“Time for a shower, Slave, and we need to be economical with water so we’ll shower together.” I knew that wasn’t the real reason but hoped it would be fun. Unlike Leo, Rory didn’t worry about being in the bathroom while I used the toilet and he used it in front of me and I noticed his already semi-hard prick and rightly guessed he’d use it in the shower. I’d hardly had time to soap myself before he pushed me against the wall and shoved his prick into my cunt. Bang, bang, bang, he slammed into me and I actually felt the tenderness from the spanking when my bum hit the wall. I tried to thrust back but found the position awkward and the floor slippery but I still came before he did. He turned the water off and withdrew. “Give it a gentle suck,” he demanded. It took my mind a few seconds to register the request and in that time, Rory gripped my right nipple and started to force me down.

I almost slipped but saved myself by clasping his legs and then started sucking his juice coated prick. He only wanted me to do it for a minute or so before he stood me on my feet and knelt and licked my cunt. “Leo would never do that, he’d say it was disgusting and unclean.”

“Did you find it disgusting and unclean?” Rory queried.

“Not really and I liked the feel of your tongue on my clit. I expect you liked my mouth around your prick.”

We didn’t fuck again until the next morning when heavy rain on the skylight woke us. I’d slept like a log after a day at sea and having slept poorly the previous night. He decided we’d do it doggy style and I wondered if he’d want to do it in my bum. “Not today, probably when you have a period. Have you done it that way?”

“Not since you did it on this barge when I was nineteen and I cried out then.”

I spent most of the day in housewife mode, cleaning and cooking but he demanded a blowjob at lunchtime, fortunately after we’d eaten. He spent time preserving his samples and doing other necessary boat chores.

Ronnie loses her virginity

Typical April weather; Friday wet, Saturday dawned bright and sunny. “Let’s go ashore and get your wellies and you’d better have a smock too because before long, you’ll be sorting the catch with Dave. We’ll get something to eat, an early lunch, at Betty’s and then go for a sail in “Esmeralda”. How does that suit you?”

“Sounds great.” A mere slave being consulted? I’d begun to notice this strange dichotomy; one minute I’d be a housewife, the next a slave with almost no indication of the change being imminent.

Betty, in between customers, jokingly asked to see my whip marks. “I heard Sandra Lenoune isn’t sitting too well at the moment.” Rory asked how she knew but she only remarked, “Heard it on the grapevine.” We guessed from a customer.

We heard the same comment about Sandra when we walked along the quay to the launch. Veronica greeted us and in the course of a short conversation I said we were going sailing. “Can I come too please? Sandra’s not going out today because she can’t sit too well and it’s her boat I go out in.” Ronnie grinned and we did too. We made arrangements to meet her on the quay in a short while so she could put on her wet suit and an extra sweater and a get her lifejacket.

I piloted the launch all the time now, although Rory still gave me instructions, and did it without a hitch for I didn’t want a spanking in front of Ronnie (I preferred the more feminine name and used it when I spoke to her) but I noticed she blushed when she saw me looking at her and I knew she remembered my drying her intimate places.

Actually, she knew far more about sailing than I did and the boat seemed to go faster when she had a turn at the helm; I’d only been out in sailing dinghies a few times in my teen years and I knew the rudiments but there is far more to sailing than steering a power boat. Rory took the tiller until we’d sailed through the anchorage and then, under his instruction, I took over for a while. Once more I enjoyed my time on the water. Three hours later we returned to the mooring and Rory invited Ronnie to sample my cooking, “And perhaps we can do something about your sad problem,” he added with a little grin.

She looked nervous but suddenly made up her mind. “Sandra said I should.”

Jealousy flashed across my mind although Rory had made it clear from the start that he would have other girls and have them in my presence. “It’s what you want, not Sandra,” I butted in getting a scowl from Rory, “Once you lose your virginity you can never get it back, so it’s your decision, yours to give, not someone else’s.” Rory frowned again and I wondered if I’d be in for another spanking later but to try and redeem my situation, I went on, “But if you decide you would like to start enjoying sex, Rory is experienced and knows how to give you a good time.”

Later I found out that she’d deliberately watched the river to see when we came ashore in the hope of meeting us although at the time, still uncertain as to whether or not she would go the whole way. On the boat she had no choice but to make the decision.

I cooked while Ronnie and Rory sat in the saloon and talked in low voices but from the snippet I heard when I took the cutlery in, I gathered Sandra had a monetary hold over Ronnie and used her for lesbian sex. My jealousy kept rising to the fore but I tried to keep it in check and concentrated on cooking until I called out, “Dinner in five minutes, and they trooped into the galley, Rory to open a bottle of wine and Ronnie to help with the plates.

“Tops off.”

I knew what the order meant I removed my sweater and prompted Ronnie to do the same and to remove her bra. She blushed profusely and I reminded her that Rory would see all of her later and that I seen everything a few days before.

“Be proud of what you have, Ron, they’re not huge but they’re firm and nicely formed,” Rory commented as he stretched out his hand to feel them, causing even more blushing and a squeal when he pinched her nipples.

My hope that he’d take Ronnie into the bedroom while I did the dishes, were quickly dashed. “Take her into the bedroom and get her ready for me. Get yourself undressed and ready too, while I check on my samples. I’ll expect her well aroused when I come in and I’m sure you know how to do that,” he ordered, wanting to see me in a lesbian situation with her and checking samples, just an excuse. From what I’d heard, I doubted Ronnie would object and from the way he spoke, I knew we were in a master/slave situation again and I didn’t dare disobey or protest.

“You know what he expects, Ronnie?” She nodded and watched as I started to undress. “You don’t have to do it, you know. It’s rape if he forces you.”

“I know, but I want to, it’s just that I’m a bit nervous. I always thought I’d lose my virginity to someone I loved rather than to experience sex. I’m going to lose it one way or the other because when I told Sandra of my trip out with you, she threatened to use her strap-on on me if I didn’t get fucked. She’s wanted to use it for a while and I’ve always refused.”

By then I’d removed all my clothing and gave her a hug. “Okay, let’s get you naked too.”

Although I hadn’t done it with a girl for a good few years, I still knew what to do and used my mouth first to suckle her nipples to hardness and then diverted down her belly to her mound and laved her slit and tormented her clit with my tongue until Rory came in and I undressed him.

“You’d better suck this and get it nice and wet, Ron, then we’ll be ready to make you a woman.” Rory offered his prick to her lips and she hesitatingly took it in. “Put plenty of spit on it,” he instructed.

I skipped to the bathroom and got a towel and when they were ready, placed it under her arse. “Put all the pillows under her head too, so she can see it go in. She should witness the moment when the Master’s prick deflowers her.” Soon as I’d everything ready to his satisfaction, Rory lined his prick with her opening, entered a little way and gave a few short thrusts until she became used to it being at her entrance. “The time has come, Ron, for you to lose your childhood,” he exclaimed as he thrust forward and burst through her membrane. Ronnie gave a cry but didn’t plead with him to stop but Rory paused until the pain diminished, as far as he could tell, and then proceeded to fuck her, slowly at first and then with increasing rapidity. I slipped my hand between their bodies and rubbed her clit so that she came long before Rory and I think she was well on the way to another orgasm when he sent his sperm into her.

To my relief he didn’t ask either of us to suck it afterwards because she bled freely and his prick looked revolting. Without being asked I went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth and cleaned them both. We spent the evening cuddling and playing on the bed until the light began to fade and I had to take her back to the quay. The river conditions were good with little wind, “Take her back yourself, Poll, just watch the strong tide when you get to the steps. I’ll have your arse if you dent the paintwork.”

I’d grown confident in the handling of the launch but I’d never been in it alone and by the time I started back, the light had almost gone and the boats were mere ghostly shadows. I kept to the main channel although the tide there was strongest, but the risk of hitting another vessel was less. From a distance I could easily pick out the ‘Anna May’ because she always showed an anchor light and I’d no problem in finding her. Rory came on deck when he heard me approach to take the line. No damage to the paintwork as far as I could tell.

On the return journey I had time to think about my Master fucking another girl. I know at first, as I expected, I had flashes of jealousy that the prick that should belong to me, poked another girl’s cunt, more especially as I became turned on watching and wouldn’t have any fulfilment, but later I gained some enjoyment from watching the delight on Ronnie’s face as she orgasmed. “Maybe I’ll be fucked tonight to make up for it. At least I’ve already had more sex on the ‘Anna May’ than I’ve had for many months past,” I reasoned as I made my approach alongside.

Negligence severely punished

The sea air and the physical effort of sailing a boat had worn me out and I wasn’t sorry when Rory decided to delay fucking me until the morning. As usual we cuddled and kissed and talked about the events of the day and speculated on Sandra’s reaction to Ronnie no longer having her virginity to preserve, but in the end we spooned together and drifted into sleep. I woke with a hard prick poking between my thighs and shortly I knelt on my hands and knees on the mattress while he fucked me doggie style. I hadn’t done it that way since college.

“Rory, it’s Leo on the phone, can I talk to him, Master?” I yelled down the hatch loud enough for Leo to hear and hoping my request would be refused. It wasn’t, but Rory came on deck and heard my side of the conversation.

“What are you doing? Sounds like you’re outside in the wind.”

“Yes, I’m on deck, barefoot and with my trousers turned up like a slave, washing the deck and cleaning the grot from the scuppers.”

“Doesn’t sound as though you are enjoying yourself too much, Polly, is my brother ready to give you up?” I could tell from his voice that he regretted giving me away.

“Oh, you’re quite wrong, Leo, I’m enjoying myself immensely and I’ve only just started my slave and other training. I think I’ll be here for a long while if not for ever.”

“Maybe he’ll get tired of you or you’ll get tired of the slavery thing?” I guessed he didn’t want to plead for my return because his honour was at stake.

I tried to discourage him from thinking that way. “I’m doing my best to keep in his good books and to keep him interested and I’m quite enjoying the slavery thing. I’ve been spanked once and fucked in different positions every day, but there’s been a lot of excitement too, so much more than with you. Why don’t you go to church and find a respectable woman?”

He shut his phone off without saying good-bye.

“Perhaps I should send you back, after all you are married to him,” Rory had a serious expression on his face and when I looked horrified, he burst into laughter, “But I don’t think I will. He gave you to me and I’m keeping you for a while, maybe a long while.”

For the next few days, things went along very well. We went out with Dave twice, each time he brought ‘Misty Morn’ alongside the barge and I had to bring her alongside when we returned. We collected samples and fished and, because of my typing skills, I began assisting Rory with the recording of the information and the writing of reports. It took several sessions before I became familiar with the long scientific names of the peculiar creatures I saw live on the computer screen. We went sailing once, without Ronnie because she is back in college, and I began to get the hang of it and even sailed it back to the mooring. With all the great sex and largely being treated as a housewife, I became complacent and certainly paid for it on the Friday of my third week. Yes, it was my fault, negligence, he said, but I’ll not forget the price I paid, not for a very long while. Yet an hour later, just when I felt like running away or making my escape in the launch, he cradled me in his arms and cuddled me on the bed.

It started out as a routine Friday morning trip to town for me to do the weekend shopping. Rory stayed behind to try and get a report done. It wasn’t the nicest weather; overcast sky, fresh wind with rain forecast for later in the morning. I tied up at the quay at high water, spent an hour shopping and started back with a strong ebb tide under me. No problem, I’d get back quicker and before the rain. Part way back, the engine coughed and spluttered a couple of times and then stopped. A glance at the fuel gauge and I knew the problem. With the wind behind me and the strong tide, I’d soon be swept way down the river but having missed several, I managed to grab the last mooring buoy in that row of the anchorage but in doing so several waves splashed over the gunwale and one arm went under the cold water. Miserable, cold and wet, I sat down and debated my best course of action, but in fact, I only had one option, phone Rory, knowing he would be most annoyed, furious more like.

“Help, Rory, please. I’ve run out of petrol.”

“There’s a can in the rear locker.”

“I used that on Monday.”

“WHAT! You didn’t refill it?” I knew I should have but it slipped my mind. Rory didn’t say anything for several moments and then asked, “Where are you?”

“Tied to ‘Orion’s’ buoy.”

“You left it late enough to catch a mooring.”

“I thought I’d have to put the anchor down.” I could almost see Rory nodding.

Another pause. “Well I cannot do much from here. Even if I launch the little dinghy from the cabin top, with rowing against the wind and tide, I’d not make it to you. I’ll try and find out where Dave is fishing. Stay where you are for the time being.” As though I could go anywhere! Fifteen minutes later, my phone rang. “Dave’s shot the trawl for the last time today but he’s well outside the river and says it will be a couple of hours before he gets to you. Sit tight until he comes.” The expected tirade and discourse on my stupidity, didn’t come, but I rightly suspected I’d get it when I returned.

So I sat there, shivering with the cold wind and my wet clothes and to cap it all, we had one of those heavy showers where the raindrops hurtle down like stair rods for ten minutes and then stop. All I could do was to sit miserably with my back to it and pray that Dave would come soon. Intermittently I bailed out the water that accumulated but otherwise I sat huddled up on the thwart.

At least Dave and his son, Bob, came earlier than he said and showed some sympathy for my plight. They towed the launch to his mooring, helped me in the cabin and gave me a mug of tea. “Bob will go and fill the can for you, while you dry out and get a bit of warmth into your body.” While Dave and I sat in the cabin awaiting Bob’s return, I had to explain what happened. Afterwards he looked grave. “You’re in trouble lass and if I know Rory, you won’t sit comfortably for a while.” I’d already guessed that. “You put your life and the launch at risk and caused others to go out of their way to help. Not that we minded but there’s a sort of unwritten law that you are now obliged to us and we can expect something in return.”

“I thought your wife...”

“No, not that love, and Bob would have trouble keeping it from his too. No, how about taking us, and our wives, for a meal at ‘The Mariner’s Arms’? Better not be tonight... they get pretty full on a Friday.” I knew he intended to say that I wouldn’t sit too well tonight. “How about Tuesday if Rory agrees?”

Luckily they waited until I filled the petrol tank and tried the engine. It wouldn’t start. “Probably an air lock,” Bob muttered and brought some spanners to disconnect the fuel pipe. “Yeah, that was it,” he grinned as petrol came through, and when he connected it and I pressed the starter, the engine burst into life. I gave them both a hug and thanked them profusely.

I kept the speed down because I had no wish to face Rory’s wrath and several times debated whether to turn tail and head back to the quay and phone Leo. “But what sort of life will that be?” I asked myself, “In the three weeks you’ve been with Rory, you’ve had a very good life and if taking a hard spanking because you put your life and others at risk, like Sandra did, then you’ll just have to take it. You can’t go back to existing with Leo instead of living with Rory.”

I’d hardly put the groceries away when he ordered me to undress completely and I had to stand in front of him like some naughty schoolgirl while he sat in an easy chair. “The lecture went on for ages and I apologised over and over but it didn’t make any difference. “Polly, I see nothing less than a dose of the strap for your behaviour today. It will remind you to always to check the fuel before you start out and to make sure there is some in the spare petrol can.”

“The strap! Oh no, Rory, not the strap, I won’t need that as a reminder. Sandra put her boat and crew at risk and she only had a spanking. Don’t you think I suffered out there in the open boat, freezing in the rain and the wet?”

“Sandra took a calculated risk that didn’t quite come off, you were negligent. You knew to either fill the can on Monday or tell me it was empty and I would have reminded you. You did neither. You didn’t even check the fuel gauge on the engine before starting back. Again negligence. Now let us get this over with.”

To my surprise he led me to a forward part of the barge to an area under where the mast used to stand when she had sails, now largely used as a store area. Above deck only a stump of the original mast remains and now carries lights and antennae in a tabernacle to allow it to be lowered. Below deck, the massive 12" square support post, keeps the main deck beam in place, as it has done since they built the barge but today it had a more sinister purpose. I’d seen the post many times but I’d not noticed the length of cord fastened to it just under the deck. I struggled when I realised what he intended to do but his superior strength combined with threats of extra punishment for insubordination, I finally allowed him to fasten my wrists. My mind flashed to a picture I’d seen at college of ‘A Girl at the Whipping Post’; today I was that girl for real, not some fictitious, imaginary girl.

The 2 ft. long leather strap with the end 6 inches shaped into a handle, always hung behind the wardrobe door in the main berth and I’d seen and handled it several times but I’d never felt its sting. Sting? The hellish brand of fire it produced and Rory laid it on pretty hard. Starting at my thighs he worked upwards, across my arse where he seemed to hit the hardest, across my back until he reached my shoulders. By then I screamed with the pain, I begged for mercy, I made promises I couldn’t keep, I threatened court action, I threatened to get the police to raid the boat, all to no avail. He didn’t pause. I suppose in a way, it would have been worse had he waited between strokes but I didn’t think so at the time. I’ve no idea how many strokes I had, neither of us counted but he stopped when the welts reached my shoulders and left me tied to the post for ten minutes before releasing me. “However did I get to be with this madman?” I asked myself many times during that ten minutes, but I knew why. Did I want to stay though? Could I escape? Where would I go?

Later, when I reflected on the ferocity of his actions, I realised that he took some of his own guilt out on me because he’d never mentioned checking the fuel gauge. Like on a car, it was there, prominent, and you automatically checked it, or should. I think also the worry of what might have happened if I’d been swept out to sea and lost, played on his mind while waiting for my return. I didn’t really forgive him for that.

I tried to push away from him when he released me but he said quietly, “Poll, your punishment is over, now let me do what I can to ease your suffering. You’ll hurt for a while, but I can make it easier for you. Shower first.” Despite having a full erection, he carefully rubbed shower gel into my body, rinsed off the dirt and salt from my skin and hair before drying my front but only lightly patting the worst of the moisture from my back. The skin felt like it might burst open but I’d taken a quick look in the mirror and couldn’t see any blood, only deep red stripes. He assisted me to lie face down on the bed. “I’ll make some tea and get you a couple of pain-killers and when your back has dried, I’ll put some cream on. If by next weekend, you decide you want to go back to Leo, I’ll let you go, but until then you will stay. If you go now, you’ll remember this one bad thing and not all the good times. I may have been harsh with you but you could have been in a far worse plight and you might not have survived.” I didn’t bother to question his statement; my body hurt too much to consider arguing.

Actually he did all he could to ease my pain; the pain he’d created, but for me, it was too little, too late and I seriously considered doing a runner, not back to Leo but getting a place of my own and looking for a job. I had some money but that wouldn’t last long.

He didn’t attempt to fuck me that night and I resisted his efforts to placate me, but next morning he bent me over the bed and took me doggie fashion, “to minimise my discomfort,” he said. Actually it wasn’t too bad but I didn’t tell him that and deliberately didn’t show any enthusiasm. “Let him do it and get the hell out of here as soon as you can, Polly,” I told myself. The pain had eased when I lay still but the least movement sent stabs of fire coursing through my body. My stiff back, arse and thighs, screamed when I turned over or went to the bathroom and it shocked me when, immediately after the before breakfast fuck, he ordered me to put my loose tracksuit on and to follow him on deck. “Do it, it is for your own good,” he ordered when I protested. Again it proved him right. A walk around the deck in the early morning sun, eased my muscles and cheered me. I hadn’t given up on leaving though and noted the launch in its usual place but on my return to the kitchen, I saw the keys to the engine were not on the hook. Without them I remained a prisoner. “I could phone the police but that will cause more trouble than enough and I doubt I’ll be hurt again. Although he won’t admit it, I’m sure Rory knows he went too far.”

Revenge?

For most of the next two days, I sat and sulked and only spoke when necessary, but Rory treated me more or less as usual and continued his demands on my body but fucked me more carefully than normal. He cuddled and fondled me in bed but I tried, not always successfully, to remain passive and not respond.

Tuesday dawned bright and sunny but very windy. Fluffy clouds raced across the sky. Dave phoned to see if Rory wished to postpone our trip in the fishing boat but he decided to go ‘to get out of the gloom on the barge’. “It shouldn’t be too bad until high water and the tide starts to flow against the wind, then the waves will rise but we should be back in the river again by then.” I pleaded to be left behind and promised not to attempt to escape but he curtly refused. “Being out on the ‘Misty Morn’ is something you enjoy so perhaps it will lift your spirits a little to be in charge of her. She’ll be a handful for you today so your mind will be occupied and you won’t have time to worry about your aches and pains.” I resented the way he trivialised them.

Even the heavy ‘Anna May’ rocked and pitched and we put extra fenders out when Dave and Bob came alongside. Bob didn’t usually come with us but he had a day off from working in the docks and thought his dad might use some help. I think he was also keen to find out how I fared. My entry on the fishing boat wasn’t exactly as I planned, in fact it was almost a disaster. As I jumped to the deck so the boat rose to meet me and I landed harder than I anticipated and fell on my face, jarring my back, and causing me to cry out but only Dave, being close by, heard it. He led me to the wheelhouse as usual, “You okay Polly?” he asked and gave me a hug. I cried out again. He looked surprised and sad, “He hit your back too?”

“From my knees to my neck, still sore all over but he ordered me to come.”

“I’ll do what I can to help but this won’t be the best day for a trip with a sore body. Keep her well inshore under the lee of the land until we get to the open sea and then we’ll hope to get the Seal Island bit done and back before the tide runs too hard and the waves pile up.”

Actually, once I became familiar with the movement of the boat to the waves, I enjoyed the experience especially when we met a large wave and I ploughed head on into it and sent it crashing over our bows. I had to concentrate not only on the waves and using the engine controls, but on the echo sounder which showed the depth of water under us and being close to the shore, there wasn’t more than a few metres. The fun began, at least for me, when we cleared the mouth of the river and had the three-mile dash across the open sea to gain the shelter of Seal Island. Because of cross currents between the island and mainland, the waves were very confused but Dave stood by my side and directed my steering and use of the throttle to ride them in the most comfortable way. I puffed my chest out (not literally) when he praised the way I picked up the technique and juggled the helm and throttle without being told. Not that we weren’t thrown about, but I never sensed any danger to the boat. Rory and Bob sat at the rear of the wheelhouse but I almost didn’t know they were there.

When we slowed down to take the water samples and tow a plankton net for a short way, I had more trouble in controlling the vessel but for most of the time, Dave stood alongside me occasionally murmuring an instruction or touching the wheel or nudging the throttle.

“I think we ought to head back now and forget the last sample station. It’s taken us longer to get here than normal,” Dave yelled above the wind and engine noise.

“It’s only another mile and we’ve come this far,” Rory pointed out, and after a short argument, his view prevailed. I felt he did this more to keep me working than for the necessity of getting the samples.

Dave shrugged when I looked questioningly at him. “His firm pays for the boat hire so he calls the tune unless I think it too dangerous. It’ll get very uncomfortable but I’ve been out in worse and he won’t like it either. He’s not the best of sailors.” I noticed he grinned in a knowing way.

Again the trip took longer than expected partly because I couldn’t push the speed too hard in the rough conditions, and they spilled the first sample and had to get a second. By then the wind had risen and the waves crashed over the bow every time. “You’ll have to go close inshore to get a little shelter before turning round, Polly, we could get swamped if we’re caught broadside on in this lot.” His weather beaten face showed some concern but he gave another grin. “We’ll have the wind behind us going back even though the tide is against us but we’ll jump about a bit. You still okay?”

“Yes, at least while you’re the pilot.”

‘Jump about a bit’, what an understatement. We headed back and I opened the throttle and slammed the boat into each wave until Dave suggested I ease the power, “You don’t want your master to get sick in the cabin, do you?”

“How much faster can I go?” I laughed but eased the throttle back. What a helter-skelter trip. Exhilarating. Scary. Yes, but I felt alive, which is more than Rory did. He wasn’t actually sick but he looked pretty green when he came into the wheelhouse and stood by an open window. I inwardly felt very pleased and thought of it as my revenge.

We tied the ‘Misty Morn’ alongside the barge and invited Dave and Bob on board for something to eat and drink; we’d not been able to make a drink on the boat this trip and I’d hardly let go of the wheel for the whole time. I needed to pee and dashed to the bathroom and also changed into my sweats. My welts itched and I could feel the muscles becoming stiff again, more so because my arms felt like lead from the strain of controlling the boat. Maybe they would have without the thrashing but I blamed my unjust punishment. By the time I returned, Rory had the kettle boiled and the bread sliced.

“What should we do with a skipper who deliberately tries to make her crew sick?” I’m not sure if Rory intended it as a joke but it raised my hackles.

“What should we do with a boss that puts the lives of his crew at risk by his lack of proper judgment and failure to take the advice of a more experienced crew member? Should he not be tied to the post and flogged like this?” I turned my back to them and lifted my sweatshirt for a few moments and then briefly lowered my pants. I knew from looking in the bathroom mirror and seeing the chafing that occurred on the trip, that my welts, looked far worse than when I left.

Neither Dave nor Bob spoke at first then came out with, “Jesus Christ Rory...” “Bloody hell, did you need to hit her that hard for a simple error?” Both looked shocked and disgusted at the extent of my punishment, Rory even showed some remorse but never apologised. After an embarrassing silence, finally Dave spoke, “I’m not going to say anything about the rights and wrongs of your punishment Polly, to do so would only lead to making enemies of one or the other, but I will say this, you handled the ‘Misty Morn’ like a professional seaman and I congratulate you on that. Yes, I stood beside you but only to offer advice, once you had a feel for it, you used your senses to ride the waves as smoothly as was possible in those conditions. I couldn’t have done better. You did great, Polly and by way of thanks, I will pay for my own and my wife’s meal tonight.”

“No, Dave, I said I’d pay and I will. I enjoyed today far more than I expected and learned a great deal, so the meal is my thanks to you for today as well as my rescue.”

I know they discussed my punishment while I did the dishes because I heard the anger in Dave and Bob’s voices but they closed the door and I couldn’t hear the words. They gave me a gentle hug when they left and Bob whispered, “We’re buying the drinks tonight, no arguments.”

Rory, his face looking very worried, turned away from me when we returned to the saloon and went to the lab room to sort his samples. They were still unopened on his desk when I went in later. In front of them lay the infamous strap. Fearing I’d overstepped the mark by showing my welts and embarrassing him in front of his friends, I fled to the deck where anyone could see me and maybe I could summon help. Standing on the cabin top, I looked around but only a few boats were in sight and none close. “Don’t give in this time Polly, put up a fight.” The wind blew my hair and irrelevantly I noticed it had calmed down a little. I looked for a weapon. Almost everything usable was fastened down. I grabbed a hank of rope that served as a washing line. Not the most effect weapon but I could wield it and slash at him and perhaps stave off the inevitable thrashing for long enough to be rescued. A sailing boat, tacked across the anchorage but that would take some time to get near; a motorboat steamed up the channel but again, a long way off.

Rory came out of the hatchway.

I took a defensive stance on the cabin top but he stopped when some distance away. His hands came up in a peace gesture. Wondering if he had some trick up his sleeve, I remained, ready to fight and even swung the rope a few times to show him I would use it. “Okay, Poll, I’m not going to hurt you. The strap is for me. For you to use on me.” He repeated the statement several times before I really comprehended it. Gradually he approached and then sat on the cabin top near me. Still wary I kept well out of his reach and didn’t put the rope down.

“You said I deserved the same punishment for putting others at risk and if it will bring a return to our former relationship, I will take it. I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”

Slowly the implications of his words sank in. “Go below and undress and come back here wearing only a pair of sweatpants. I can pull them down easily and up again if anyone comes close.” Realising his punishment would be outside and semi-public, he hesitated but I ordered, “Do it, otherwise I’m gone.” Five minutes later I ordered him to clasp the mast while I tied his hands with the clothesline. I held Rory prisoner and he knew it.

For a while I sat in the saloon, fingering the strap and debating what to do, leaving Rory to shiver in the cool wind on deck. My first reaction was to flog him hard, like he’d whipped me, but slowly I altered my tactic and went on deck. The yacht tacked across the barge’s stern and I knew they could see Rory hugging the mast. I waited until they were further away before yanking his trousers down to his knees. He didn’t even have an erection.

“Rory Sturman, you no doubt, are expecting a thrashing similar to mine and probably you deserve it about as much as I did, but that is not going to happen. Strapping will only provide more excuses for you to thrash me harder for some trumped up reason in future and would negate our master and slave relationship, a relationship that worked pretty well up to the time you abused your power. Fundamentally, a slave shouldn’t punish her master even if he is wrong. What you did with this strap,” I dangled it in front of his face, “Might have been acceptable in the plantation days but not now. You could have been in serious trouble if I’d gone to the authorities or if I’d been injured when I fell on the deck this morning or while out today and taken to hospital and neither of us wants that. A smacking is one thing, even one as hard as Sandra’s if there is real justification, but the use of the strap is out. Therefore, to save you the temptation of using it and in the hope that we can return to the pre-Friday relationship, instead of welting your body with it, I’m going to...” I walked to the side of the barge and held the strap at arm’s length over the water and allowed it to flap in the breeze, “I’m going to consign it to the water where it will not cause any more harm.” The wind blew it further from the boat before it quickly disappeared beneath the waves.

We sat in the saloon for a while without talking and I surmised Rory went over my action in his mind and I hoped he’d taken in some of what I’d said, but he gave no indication of it until he stood and ordered, “Into the bedroom with you slave. I want you naked and with your feet by your ears. I’m ready to take charge of you again and to give you the fucking you deserve and I need. He certainly did and in spite of my stiff muscles, I did my best to respond.

We had a pleasant, no enjoyable, evening with Dave and his wife Peggy, and Bob with Sarah, a bubbly, stocky little girl who didn’t stop talking and giggling. “You’ll have to call round when you come ashore to do your shopping,” she invited, “I live in one of the side streets off the main road so I’m close to the quay and the supermarket.”

“Only if my master allows it.”

“Are you staying then?” Peggy asked. Obviously their husbands had mentioned my welts.

“Yes, but Neptune is now using the strap on the mermaids.”

The birdwatchers

The marks of my thrashing disappeared after a little more than a week and we returned to a good master/slave relationship. I had a ‘play’ spanking three weeks later but I provoked it by being unduly cheeky and he reddened my bum without putting any great force behind the smacks. Afterwards, because of my period bleeding, he fucked my bottom but he did lubricate it first and he’d already done it there earlier in the day so I could take it without too much trouble.

Mostly living with Rory became routine as far as life on the water can be. The changing weather conditions make every trip different and we’ve continued to go out with Dave twice a week and we actually took the ‘Anna May’ for trip with a party of bird watchers from SPOME. That made an unusual weekend.

Ten of them turned up on a Saturday morning in May, and, as we needed fuel and water, I took the barge to the quay and loaded them aboard there. Six women and four men, all middle aged or older. We planned to take the barge to the sandy, muddy shore off Seal Island and beach her for the remainder of the ebb tide and until she floated again on the flood. We’d then move to another site and when the tide ebbed sufficiently, we’d beach her again. A few days previously we reconnoitred both places to make sure there weren’t any obstacles and this all went to plan and the weather cooperated too. With an awning around the guardrails, they could sit and watch the birds through windows in the canvas and, provided no movement or noise, the birds would come right up to the boat. They did more than watch; they counted, checked, identified and tried to determine feeding patterns. During that time we had to be quiet and, being high and dry, we couldn’t run the engines or the generator for several hours.

We didn’t have accommodation for them all so they were told to bring sleeping bags and that didn’t seem to he a problem. As I slowly edged the large vessel to the quay, I saw them waiting with their bags, cameras and binoculars and I think they were a little surprised that I, a young woman, piloted her. Fortunately, I’d now done the trip to the quay several times and berthed her without a problem. We had three cabins they could use and I put two elderly women in mine, as I hadn’t slept in it since my arrival. “I’m sorry you’ll have to share the bed but that will be more comfortable than the floor or a couch,” I apologised and I think they were a bit shocked when they saw the slightly larger than single size bed. “You can use the duvet or your sleeping bags but I would think the duvet will be more comfortable.” Then one shrugged and laughed, “Well it’s only for one night and it will make a change to sleep with someone again. Haven’t done that since my husband died.” The other woman voiced a similar thought. I put the two couples in the other two berths leaving two men and two women to share the saloon. That’s when the fun started.

Two could have the built-in couches and two would sleep on the floor. I assumed the two women would have the couches and the men the floor but one of the men objected and vociferously complained of back problems to such an extent that Geraldine, Gerry, said, “We were all told that we might have to sleep on the floor, in fact we thought we’d all be lying down here, so it is lucky we had any choice at all. If it will make you happier Fredrick, I’ll take the floor.”

“I’ve brought a foam sleeping mat big enough for two, you can share it if you wish Gerry.”

“Thank you, Ken, that’s most kind. I’m sure it will be softer than the floor.”

“Everything okay, Poll?” Rory questioned when he came down, “We’re all fuelled up and ready to go. Gerry, you’ve been before and know the routine, would you like to get the kettle on and organise some help making the tea, please. Poll and I will be busy for a little while.”

When clear of the anchorage, the men erected the awnings and the ladies produced mugs of tea and biscuits. Gerry brought mine into the wheelhouse and stayed with me. In near ideal weather we moved steadily down river, at a slower speed than normal because we didn’t wish to get to the beaching place too early on the tide and have to wait until late evening before we floated again.

“Rory had an older man with him last time,” Gerry remarked, “You been here long? You seem to handle the boat well.” In a friendly way she wheedled the story from me. “Wow, that would make a novel,” she grinned, “And I guess you won’t object if I persuade Ken to move his mat to another part of the boat.”

“Avoid the galley because people get up for a drink or something in the night. I suggest you go to fore bulkhead and put the mat by the whipping post.” The term came out without thinking but I’m sure she guessed I’d suffered its use. “You may have to move a coil of rope or two to get enough floor space.”

It fell to my lot to tell the passengers that they needed to use the toilets before we beached, “For about six hours, until we float again, we won’t have electricity, or water to flush the loos or run the generator. We can heat the old kettle on the gas ring so we can have a hot drink and make sandwiches but otherwise, you’ll have to rough it. I think you we told this before you came.”

We beached without a problem and settled on the bottom with a slight tilt but these old barges were designed to sit on mud flats and sandy shores with a full cargo of grain or wood. It was then, ‘keep out of sight’, time. For a while I watched the ‘twitchers’, although I didn’t dare use the term to serious birdwatchers, peer at the receding water and the birds that flew in to feed on the shore as it became exposed. I also noticed that Fredrick had little problem with his back when on the hard deck looking through his telescope. I heard many excited whispered comments on the birds they saw but I think they were all glad when the water returned and the birds left our area and they could stand and stretch their legs again.

I motored the barge to a safe anchorage for a few hours and Rory dropped the anchor. “You have about five hours before we beach her again so I suggest you try and get some sleep. Tomorrow you may see seals as well as birds,” Rory informed them but I expect they knew that.

We had chores to do to make things tidy and shipshape and ready for the very early departure before we could go below. Deliberately I went down the fore hatch and along the passage by the whipping post and sure enough, Gerry and Ken were on the floor there, both sleeping bags zipped together and in an embrace that left me in no doubt, Ken had his prick inside her.” I quietly said, “Goodnight,” and carried on.

More surprising was the kissing sounds emanating from my berth. The two older ladies had gone down before we floated and I expected them to be fast asleep but I’m sure they were fondling each other although I didn’t dare look in. Rory wanted a quick fuck so I’m guess they heard me cry out in the throws of my orgasm.

Gerry stood beside me in the wheelhouse on the way home after they’d had another session on the beach. “You enjoyed yourself last night?” I asked with a smile.

“Only one problem, the night was too short.”

“If you want a little more time together, stay on the barge when I take the first group ashore. I’m only allowed to take eight in the launch. Use any of the berth’s except the main one and Rory will keep out of the way.”

Lady Penny

A week later I returned to the launch after a shopping trip and visiting Sarah, probably staying longer than I intended. “Who are you?” a tall, casually but expensively dressed woman demanded as I stowed the groceries in the locker.

I took an instant dislike to the dominating woman with the aristocratic accent. “Polly.” I didn’t offer any further information.

“Where’s Mr. Sturman?”

“On the barge.”

“I presume you work for him then, or are one of his regular whores.” I didn’t answer but started the engine and checked the fuel. “You will take me to him, girl. I assume you are competent to handle that boat.”

“Hi, Master,” I phoned and thought I’d better be in slave mode in case the woman was someone special, “I have a woman on the quay wanting to see you.”

“Who is it?”

“Who are you?” I asked the woman.

“Just say, Penny.”

He ordered me to bring her but didn’t sound too pleased. With a moderate breeze there were a few waves and some minor splashing occurred but until a powerboat overtook us at high speed and created a huge wash, I didn’t have a chance to give her a soaking but when the wave came, I made sure we hit it at the right angle to throw water right over her. “Sorry, Penny, Ma’am, those powerboats shouldn’t go as fast in the anchorage.” I tried to make the apology sound sincere.

“You incompetent bitch,” she yelled, “I’ll make sure Rory sacks you for this.” He didn’t and we laughed over the incident when she left. “As you saw, she’s a bossy woman, has servants and people working under her and a rich boyfriend but his tame sex doesn’t satisfy her so she calls on me once in a while. I don’t think she found the sex tame today and I bet she squirmed on the hard seat in the launch on the way back.”

I thought it strange that Rory didn’t come on deck to greet her and to take the launch’s painter, but I’m well used to mooring her myself. “Get your fingers inside the boat,” I yelled at her because she clutched the gunwale and they could have been trapped against the barge’s hull. She looked at me as though I’d no right to speak to her like that and only at the last moment did she realise the implications of my order. Without acknowledging her, I took the groceries from the locker, placed them on deck and leaped over the bulwark. “Do you need the ladder?” I enquired with an air of superiority. If looks could kill, I’d have been stabbed many times.

Leaving her standing in the saloon, I went to Rory in his office and said loud enough for hear, “Master, Miss Penny is here.”

“He’ll be out when he’s finished a paragraph of his report,” I told her and asked, “Would you like tea or coffee?”

“Something stronger and warming would be more welcome.”

“The master will have to deal with that Ma’am.” I left to put the groceries away in the galley.

“... you ought to dismiss an incompetent woman like her Rory. She’s slovenly and deliberately soaked me. My clothes are saturated. How did you find such a useless creature?” I heard the woman complain through the open door.

“Polly is my harem slave and serves my sexual needs, that she is incompetent and useless, is far from the truth. In bed, she is great and there are few on this river that can handle the launch or this barge as well as her. She brought you here safely and I’ve no doubt there were reasons why you got wet. I’m sure she would have found you a plastic cape if she thought you’d condescend to wear it.” He turned to me, “Help her off with her wet things and hang them to dry while I get her a shot of rum.”

“I can do it myself...”

“Best let me Ma’am. Don’t need to annoy the master.”

I’d soaked her better than I thought. The water had gone through her light jacket and blouse and soaked the waistband area of her trousers. Rory placed her drink on a table and watched as I undressed her and hung each item of clothing over a chair as I removed it. A slow strip tease. I soon had her naked from the waist up and her full tits on show. “Please sit, Ma’am, while I remove your shoes.”

After removing her trousers, I started to slide her knickers down. “They’re not wet,” she objected but I said they’d be coming off shortly anyway. I’m sure her objections were more due to the fact that a servant undressed her than for showing her mound. Her line of shaved dark pubic hair contrasted with the light blonde of her head hair and I wondered if she shaved it herself or had her hairdresser do it. “I ought to get a towel, Master, to dry her back.” Rory nodded and smiled when I rubbed her vigorously all over. At least her womanhood became wet.

“Take her in the main berth and get her ready, Polly.”

“I don’t want her there as well.”

“On this boat you do as you are told otherwise you know what happens.”

“You wouldn’t, not in front of a servant!”

Hardly had the words left her mouth and she found herself over Rory’s lap and when she started kicking, I held her legs on either side of my body to openly display her sex. Rory gave her a ‘Sandra spanking’ that brought tears to her eyes and I wondered if she’d been spanked before. “Now take her in the main berth and get her ready, Polly and if she gives you any trouble, I’ll give her another dose. You prepare yourself too.” I knew from when Ronnie came, what he expected of me.

Quickly shedding my own clothes, I kissed her tears and then fully on the mouth. She didn’t start to respond until I sucked her nipples and massaged her tits but when I finally arrived at her cunt, her juices flowed and she showed signs of enjoying my ministrations. By then Rory had arrived and stood naked by the berth and I gave his prick a quick suck, “She’s ready for your big prick, Sir,” I said crudely.

Rory fucked her hard and roughly but he’d fucked me earlier so it took a while before he came, meanwhile, with the help of my fingers, she had two orgasms.

“My slave needs some satisfaction too,” Rory announced when he withdrew, “Get on top of her, Poll, sixty-nine position and let her suck you off while you clean her up.” In her euphoric state after her climaxes, Penny didn’t object and when I came and collapsed on her body, she didn’t push me away.

‘Smack,’ Rory’s hand landed on my bum, “Organise some lunch slave.” Back to earth.

Bank Holiday weekend

A few days before the Spring Bank holiday at the end of May, Ronnie phoned and asked Rory if she could stay with us over the weekend. “Sandra is away and she’d like to go sailing if the weather’s good and she’s willing to be a slave like you,” he told me after he’d agreed. I’m only a slave, after all and can’t expect to have a say when her master wants to take in another woman, but I didn’t really mind except that my period was due and I felt a bit squeamish about Ronnie watching while I got fucked in the arse.

She arrived late on Friday, darkness had almost descended on the flat calm water and as the boat pushed its way through the water, we threw up showers of phosphorescence. Magical. Myriads of tiny creatures cause this and I tried to explain the phenomena to Ronnie having seen the miniscule round globules under the microscope. I thought it boded well for the weekend.

Indeed, Saturday was glorious. Ronnie slept in our bed Friday night and Rory, of course, fucked her but I wasn’t left out and Ronnie used her lesbian talents on me. We took the ‘Esmeralda’ out in light winds and sailed further up the river than I’d been before. I enjoyed the sail but prefer to have an engine underneath me and to be in full control of where I wish to go. On the other hand, Ronnie likes the vagaries of the wind and harnessing them to make the boat move.

As I’d predicted, my period came that day but Rory left me alone and concentrated on fucking Ronnie. My hopes that he would continue to use her were dashed next morning. “Bend over the bed,” he ordered and when he left my Tampon in, I knew Ronnie would witness my bum being fucked. Not only witness it, but assisting.

“Hold her arse cheeks apart, Slave Ronnie,” he ordered and applied a liberal dose of Vaseline to my hole and his prick. It still caused too much pain to do it dry but with lubrication, I could take it with only a little discomfort.

“Will it really go in?” Ronnie questioned. She found out shortly as he slowly forced his prick passed the entrance.

“That’s the worst part,” I told her, “Once it’s in, then it can get quite pleasurable.” She watched as he started slowly and then, when my own lubrication began to help, fucked me at a normal pace until he sent his sperm into my bowels.

“I don’t think I’m ready to try that yet,” she commented, “I’ve only had it in my vagina a few times and at college, I have a roommate that is more into women and that suits me. I don’t know what will happen if or when I get a proper boyfriend.” I remembered my college roommate.

We’d planned to refuel the barge on the Sunday before going sailing again because we were getting low on water and diesel for the generators, and had cast off from the mooring when I had a phone call from Leo. With many more boats on moorings in the anchorage now and with a fleet of sailing dinghies and wind surfers darting about, I had to concentrate on navigation and couldn’t answer. I saw who called and passed the phone to Ronnie who answered, “I’m sorry, Polly cannot answer your call at the moment, she’s driving, but if you care to leave a message I’ll relay it to her when we dock.”

“He’s on his way to see you, Polly and he’s already at Stensted so he’ll be here shortly.”

“Tell Rory, please.”

With crowds of tourists on the quay and small boats trying to cross my bows, I didn’t see Leo until we’d tied up and had the hoses filling the tanks. “Good morning Mrs. Sturman,” he greeted and I knew he wanted to emphasise our relationship.

“Jump aboard Leo, we’ll be leaving again shortly. Stay up in the bows out of the way for now – the front end,” I added although he should have known that. I had chance to introduce Ronnie but I knew he’d come to try and persuade me to return and deliberately avoided all reference to our marriage.

On the way back to the mooring, with all the activity on the water, I didn’t have time to talk with him and also decided to show him a little of my lifestyle by taking him sailing. “Would you mind making a few more sandwiches, please, Ronnie? There’s no need to miss a day’s sailing and with the wind today it should be more exciting. Tell Rory.” She looked at me with some surprise and then at Leo and gave a knowing smile.

Ronnie had all the food and drink in the Coolbox on deck as we came to the mooring and we’d hardly made the barge fast, when she transferred it to the launch. I shut down the engines, locked the hatches and pulled lifejackets from the deck locker. Somewhat bewildered, Leo hardly realised what was happening, especially when the young and attractive Ronnie in her form fitting wetsuit, helped him with his lifejacket and into the launch. I kept out of his way as far as possible. Only when part way to the ‘Esmeralda’ did I inform him of my plan to show him some of my life.

“Nice breeze,” Ronnie commented, “We should have a good sail today.” I knew she liked it when the boat heeled over and sped through the water but Leo looked worried. He’d only planned on a quayside, or an on barge, discussion and in his suit and polished black shoes, he wasn’t dressed for sailing and the lifejacket made his attire look even more incongruous.

I noticed Rory didn’t tie the launch to the buoy and just held her to the sailing boat and when we’d transferred he pushed the launch away with, “Have a good sail, keep in the river. Phone when you get back.” A cunning move on his part to keep out of any discussion and leave the decision making up to me.

“You sod!” I swore and laughed. Rory gave a two-finger salute.

With the wind slightly on the starboard quarter, we sped along with the spinnaker set and, with the boat on a fairly even keel, Leo relaxed. I took the helm while Ronnie kept the spinnaker drawing well. The water rushed by and I knew it would be a different story when we had to tack our way back up the river.

“Let’s go up Solomon’s Creek a little way and anchor for lunch, it’ll be calmer there and a bit sheltered from the wind.” The creek, a tributary near the mouth of the Blest, had a wide bay with rolling hills on either side.

“Good idea,” Ronnie agreed and started to gather the spinnaker. I noticed how Leo kept his eye on her lithe form and watched her every move. We tacked to a spot close to other boats and dropped the anchor.

“I can see what you are trying to do, Polly, but I think any discussion on our marriage would be better done with Rory present,” Leo’s comment stifled anything I planned to say, for which I was thankful. I didn’t wish to spoil a nice day out for Ronnie and me.

“Well, he is my owner so he has the final say,” I answered, knowing that wasn’t wholly true.

We did talk a little about my life but more about Ronnie and her work at college but her reasons for staying with us on the barge came into it too. Some of our doings obviously shocked Leo’s sensibilities and once we noticed this, we deliberately said things that would shock him more and by the time we packed the food away, I’m pretty sure he’d decided I wouldn’t be returning with him.

“Can I take her back?” Ronnie asked. I agreed knowing she liked the tacking against the wind better than I did and would drive the boat harder. Leo would not sit comfortably during the return journey. He certainly didn’t, and his suit became soaked with the spray as we bounced through the choppy water although Ronnie didn’t deliberately try to wet him. The ‘Esmeralda’ isn’t a racing boat but she has a good turn of speed in the right conditions but even so, against the wind and tide, the trip back took far longer than the outward one.

I controlled the jib and sat out as far as I could to keep the boat up and eventually Leo got the hang of ducking under the boom and moving to the other side when Ronnie called ‘Lee-oh!” My clothes got pretty wet too but with all the work, I kept warm and laughed at the exhilaration of being part of a living machine. Ronnie laughed happily too and in her wet suit didn’t worry about the spray, Leo, though, sat miserably through it without a hint of enjoyment. His mood wasn’t helped when Rory picked us up and asked, “What? Did you have to throw him overboard?”

As usual we went down the fore hatch to an area where we removed our wet clothes and hung them to dry and set the fan heater going. Ronnie helped Leo untangle the straps of his lifejacket while I stripped off and grabbed a towel to dry my hair. Leo turned his head away. Seeing this, Ronnie winked and started unbuttoning his jacket and continued to ignore his protests as she removed the rest of his clothes. He didn’t have an erection but it started to firm up a little and he tried to cover himself from her gaze. “You’ll need to help with her wet suit now Leo,” I told him, “It’s a sod to get off and I think she bought a size too small. I’ll go and find a dressing gown for you.” He’d just got as far as peeling it down her legs when I returned and he blushed because his face almost touched her crotch. What a pathetic man.

We opened a bottle of wine to have with the dinner and Rory caused his brother further embarrassment by demanding, “Tops off, slaves,” and Ronnie and I had to sit in front of him showing our tits. I began to wonder about Ronnie’s motives when she shook hers almost in his face. Did she fancy him? I doubted it, seeing he was almost twice her age. Probably she just showed off her new found freedom. Leo drank more than I ever remembered and at the end of the meal gave a little speech saying that he now recognised that we were incompatible and he would start proceedings to annul our marriage. That lifted a weight from my mind. His terms were pretty generous too and he suggested that we try and remain friends and he would like to visit his brother from time to time, “without getting soaked.” He asked me to clear the remainder of my stuff from his house as soon as practical so he could try and make a fresh start.

When afterwards he asked if his clothes were dry enough to wear so he could go home, Rory bluntly told him, “If you want to get to the quay, you’ll have to swim. Maybe that will sober you up sufficiently to drive.”

We gave him my cabin and arranged to get away early the next day. Ronnie wished to get one more day’s sailing in before she had to return to college and Leo just wanted to get away and return to his staid, uneventful life. I knew he heard Rory plugging my bum and when we quietened down, heard him whimpering. No doubt the trauma of the day and the loss of me being confirmed, combined with the alcohol, overcame him. “Someone ought to go to him,” Rory whispered.

“I can’t, otherwise he’d believe there was a possibility of reconciliation.”

“Okay, I can take a hint,” Ronnie grinned and didn’t seem unwilling. She walked through the door, naked and we heard her tell Leo to move over before the door closed.

As usual I got up first and made tea and put the coffee machine on for Leo. Ronnie walked in. “How’d it go?” I asked.

“It took a little while but in the end he got it up but he hardly put it in before he shot his load and withdrew again. I certainly didn’t get any satisfaction but I also think he worried and felt guilty about his adultery even though you were doing it with his brother.”

“Would you like to take his coffee in and say we’ll have breakfast at Betty’s in half an hour. We’d better get dressed too so we can go direct to the ‘Esmeralda’ when we’ve had breakfast.

Of course it took longer than that, especially when Leo wanted to press his trousers. My efforts were never good enough when I lived with him but we did get away fairly early and put up with Betty’s interrogation when she served our meals. Dave and Bob came in and seeing us sitting there, came and pulled chairs up. “What’s my favourite skipper doing today?” he asked and when I said we intended to go sailing he suggested we went fishing instead. “We can take that mermaid too,” he joked indicating Ronnie. She agreed it would be something different and we went but not before he regaled Leo with stories of some of the things we’d done especially on the trip where Rory had almost been sick.

We had a good day out and came back with enough fish for dinner. Leo left with a hug and kiss from Ronnie and me and I promised we’d visit the following weekend to collect my stuff.

It’s now the second week into June and the weather is warming up, even on the water the temperature makes bulky sweaters unnecessary. So that’s the situation at this time. Rory’s in his office checking samples, I’m in the galley cooking dinner, naked except for an apron, and going through in my mind all that has happened and the changes in my life since being given as a birthday present on April 14^th, only a few weeks ago but which made such a major change in my life.

Finis