Captured while on Kayaking Vacation

This tale is purely a work of fiction; any correlation to anyone living or dead is purely happenstance. I hope you enjoy this story.

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I had kayaked down from Redding, on vacation. We had paddled with the current from just below Redding through Sacramento to Isleton. The downstream leg long distances were reasonably easy, the current adding miles to our daily range. Nick and I were young and athletic, efficiently paddling long distances. My friend Nick had set out with me but could only do the first week. At Isleton, his father had picked him up. He needed to get home. We had gone to the state university together and graduated that year. He was due to start his new information technology job and had to get back. He was excited to start this new phase of his life. The entire first half of the trip was with the current. I had two weeks available, and I intended to paddle back up to my home town Sacramento, roughly 40 miles upstream. I figured to take it slower. It was a short, relatively short, distance, compared to the marathon of the previous week. My blue Perception Express 14.5 was the right choice for touring.

It had water-tight compartments for gear. Nick had another brand also meant for touring equipped similarly. I felt mine was much more capable. Nick and I had used the old Sacramento River route, rather than the deep water channel. Cabin Cruisers were enough to deal with; ships were out of the question. Nick was one of my oldest friends, and I had known him since grammar school. He was taller than me at around six feet. I was relatively short at 5 foot six. He had always been lankier, still keeping an eye on me. Insuring bullies didn't trounce me, as small kids like me generally picked on. We had used several campgrounds on the river on the way down; Nick was less inclined to rough it. Especially since beaches have a way of disappearing under the tide in this part of the delta, I had another week of vacation before I had to start my internship.

On the way back, since I was now by myself, I wanted to take a more remote route. While doing this, I got a little turned around and had to use my phone's GPS to figure out where I was. My phone was charged by my solar charger while underway. The only problem with using my phone as a GPS was it was much better at showing roads than rivers. Somewhere near Locke, I had to backtrack a few miles, so I pulled in real late, beaching my Express just before dark. I had luckily found a beach suitable for camping, just as it was too dark to navigate the water. I pitched my dome tent and cooked dinner on my propane stove in the dark. The mosquitos were thick on this backwater part of the river delta. I lit a mosquito candle and marveled at the incredibly starry sky. The stars were so much more impressive away from city lights. I was tired, so I soon turned in and slept great. There was a mist over the water when I took my morning pee. Birds were active in the tulles, that early in the morning. A yellow-breasted chat landed right in front of me. I loved nature and was a bit of a bird watcher. Later that morning, I went looking for freshwater I found a white clapboard farmhouse with faded red trim. The farmhouse was up on stilts to protect it from potential flooding. I could smell the Pete moss soil.

The native doves were cooing, and the wind was blowing. I accidentally spooked a ringneck pheasant; the flurry of bird wings startled me as it flew off. A broke down rusty old Ford tractor between the dilapidated white house and the faded red barn. It was late summer, almost fall, so the corn crop had been harvested. The corn stalks tilled over, waiting to rot into the soil. I came upon the house from the back. Since I was trespassing, I was Leary. The last thing I wanted was a load of rock salt. My father had warned me of this painful consequence of trespassing. I walked well away from the house until I reached the driveway. Then I walked up the driveway and the well-worn stairs to get to the door. It was about eight am. Carrying my Coleman collapsible water jug, I knocked on the door, thinking farmers get up early. A woman answered the door in a sexy black lace negligee. Her full breasts and pink nipples visible through the open lace. She did not attempt to cover them, even when she realized I was a stranger. Her hair was a little messy, and she looked as though I had woke her. She looked to be about 40 years old. She was tall, about five foot eight. She had a beautiful face, but her blue eyes looked weary. Her breasts were very sexy, and my libido controlled cock told on me through my shorts. I felt shy, so it didn't speak right away.

"Sorry to bother you, but can I fill my water container with fresh water?" I finally asked.

"Sure, you can. Would you like a shower as well?" the tall woman asked. "There is an outdoor shower for the migrant workers," she said. It was no longer harvest season. I did not see any migrant workers.

"That would be great. Are there any migrant workers here now?" I said. There was a pile of sunflower debris over by the river. Sunflowers were probably the second crop, and corn being the cash crop. Anyhow both crops' harvest seemed over.

"Heavens no, they have already picked and gone," she said. My eyes kept wandering to her visible breasts. As hard as I tried, l could not keep from looking. It wasn't that I was a total horn dog, though my eyes refused to behave.

"The shower is off the back of the barn; there are shampoo and soap in it already," she said.

I went behind the old barn and found the shower. I saw the way someone designed it; there was a 'U' shaped redwood wall spaced four feet off the barns back wall and two more walls connecting only to the barn that kept you private. There was an unfinished wood bench for taking off your shoes—a wood shelf for placing your clothes. Then you walk around the end wall to get to the shower stalls. The two stalls each had doors—a simple concrete-floored shower stall with a drain in the middle. The floor was quite eroded, exposing the large aggregate. I took off my clothes and got into the shower. It felt so good; it had three days since I had last been clean. Thinking of those gorgeous lace covered breasts and nipples had me excited. My cock was sticking out. I decided I better take care of it. I started to masturbate. I was stroking, trying to visualize every detail of the farm woman's breasts. I often jacked off in the shower, knowing it was a mess less way to take care of my needs.

My eight inches soon spewed its seed down the drain. I had brought the collapsible water container in the shower with me, figuring I could fill it there. When I finished showering, I filled up the plastic vessel. Then I went around the corner to get dressed, but my clothes were gone. There was a small towel there in their place, with a pair of flip-flops. I used the towel to dry off, thinking the tall sexy woman would bring me some clothes. I waited a while, which did not happen, so I placed the small towel over my crotch, stepped into the flip-flops, and headed back to the house. Struggling to both carry the jug and keep the little towel around my waist. When I got there, I climbed the wooden steps and knocked on the door. She answered the door again. I could smell a fire in her wood stove, and smoke was visible from her chimney.

"I am washing your clothes," she said. I was embarrassed about being mostly naked. There was a strange smelling smoke coming out of her chimney.

"Come in; they are almost done in the washer," she said.

I walked into a quaint little farmhouse, decorated mid-century. The hardwood was worn and scratched. An old brown davenport couch and a black recliner were in the living room. There was a coffee table with a black ceramic panther adorning it. She had gotten dressed, but she was wearing a halter top and Levi shorts. The halter let her nipples poke out, and the shorts clearly showed her pussy lips. My cock was stirring again. She grabbed the towel and pulled it away from my penis; She was powerful, probably due to farm life.

"You won't need this; sit down," she said.

I sat down, putting my hand over my crotch.

"Move your hand; I want to see your cock," she ordered. I don't know why, but I did. My cock stood embarrassingly at attention.

"Good boy, now if you try to cover it again, I will have to spank you," she said. Then she turned on a television screen, and I was on it, naked in the shower. I was masturbating in the shower. She had taped me, obviously using a hidden camera. My cock spewing on the big screen. Soon the screen showed me walking back to the house with only that small towel. My face turned red with embarrassment.

"Do you like this channel?" she asked. I did not say anything.

"Only a pervert would masturbate in a stranger's shower," she said.

I felt humiliated. The forceful woman laughed.

"Are you a pervert?" she asked.

"No, I am not," I said.

"That remains to be seen. You like being naked for me, don't you?" the woman asked. How could she tell?

"Yes, I do," I said.

"What is your name, pervert?" she asked.

"Benjamin," I said.

"Good, now I want you to play with yourself, Benjamin," she suggested. "Will you do that for me?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

I just wanted to please her. I started to stroke my erection. She turned on a video camera, and my masturbation was on her big-screen television, again. The show was fascinating, to be on the screen doing this. She smiled as she knew she had me.

"I like seeing men play pleasure themselves," she said.

"Stroke that big cock faster, make it shoot for me," she coaxed.

I stroked faster, and soon I was about to come.

"No stop," she ordered. "I changed my mind," she said. She had to be joking.

I stopped, my eyes looking like sad puppies. I wanted to come so bad.

"You like doing what I tell you, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. Why was I so truthful with this woman?

"Do you want to see my breasts?" she asked. You bet I did.

"Fuck, yes," I said.

"Did you just swear?" she asked.

"Yes, sorry," I said.

"Get over my lap, now," she ordered.

I did as she said. She started to spank me. It was my first spanking; my parents did not believe in spanking. I liked it as she swatted my ass ten times. I found it incredibly erotic.

"You like being spanked, Benjamin?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," I said. I was looking over my shoulder at the powerful woman. I was trying to see if her nipples had gotten harder, forgetting that they were on the large screen television.

"Good, I like to spank naughty boys," she said. She reached between my legs and squeezed my balls. I let out a little squeak in surprise. She squeezed them harder.

"You will do whatever I tell you, right?" she asked.

"Right," I groaned. The woman loosened her grip on my testicles.

"Good, you can call me Samantha," she said, squeezing my balls hard again.

"Yes, Samantha," I said. Hoping she would loosen her grip again.

She let go of my balls and started spanking me again. She gave me twenty fast hard spanks. It hurt, but it made me more excited. My hard cock rubbing her sexy naked legs. I wanted her to spank me more. She did not disappoint; she swatted my ass twenty more times. I loved it, and It was all playing on her large television. I could watch my punishment on the screen. I could also see her big breasts bouncing with each swing of her arm. Her hard nipples were tenting her thin blue halter top as she spanked me twenty more times. My cock felt stimulated by her smooth legs, all the while, my red bottom glowing on her screen.

"I have tired with spanking you, now," She said. I was disappointed.

"Now you will suck my nipples," she told me. Lifting her halter top and showing me her big areolas while she pulled my hair to position my mouth over her big nipple. I started to suck her nipple. I was excited again, my dick aching for release.

"Good boy, suck my nipples," she said.

Her nipple was giving me milk. Did she have a baby somewhere in the house? I loved the taste of her milk; it was the first time I ever tasted breastmilk.

"You like my milk, boy?" she asked. I could not stop sucking to answer; I was so addicted to the taste of her milk.

"I will take that as a yes," she said as she forced my mouth to the other nipple. I started suckling milk out of that one, also. She was moaning and breathing heavily, so I kept sucking. She began to quiver and moaned even louder. Then she started to writhe as if having an orgasm. "Did she just cum?" I thought. She must have because her breathing slowed, and my sucking soon stopped producing milk. I stopped sucking her nipples as I realized I had drunk all the milk. I had no breakfast, so I was thankful for the delicious milk.

"Do you have a baby, I asked?" I asked.

"No, my son is your age. My pervert husband would not let them dry up, though," she said.

"Where is your husband?" I asked.

"He died over two years ago. Since then, I have been using a breast pump to milk myself; I enjoy a perverted man emptying them better," she said. "He was a voyeur; he put in all the hidden cameras to watch the sexy migrant women showering. I did help him perform better for me in our bedroom, though," she added wickedly, smiling.

"Where is your son?" I asked.

"My son is a merchant marine; he is docking in the port of Tokyo about now," she said. "He was graduating from the Maritime Academy in Vallejo when his father got ill. He wanted to come home to help run the farm, but he always loved the sea. I had to let him follow his path," she continued. "I now manage this place by myself," she boasted.

She took me to the bedroom and laid me on my back on the bed. She climbed up on my rigid member and started fucking me. Her fantastic breasts were jiggling with each downward move. The sight I found very exciting.

"If you come without permission, l will make you lick it all out." She said.

I tried not to ejaculate, but I was too excited. I spewed a flood into Samantha.

"Good, I wanted to make you eat your cum," She said. She then moved her cum dripping pussy over my mouth. I closed my mouth. She reached back and slapped my balls. I gasped, and she lowered her cream filled pussy onto my mouth. She grabbed my balls and said, "You better lick me clean, pervert." Her hands were so powerful I did not dare resist. I licked her out, and she came again.

Then she got off me.

"Thank you for a great morning," she said.

"No, thank you," I said.

"I knew you were a pervert. How did you get here? You do know that this is an island?" She asked.

"No, I did not; my kayak is on the beach," I said. I hoped it was still there.

"We better get it before the tide takes it." She said. Pulling on a robe and tying it.

"I might need clothes to do that," I said.

"No, you don't. Perverts don't need clothes. You will ride in my truck naked. Hurry unless you want to lose the kayak," She said.

"Okay, how soon till high tide?" I asked.

"Ten minutes," she said. She started running to the vintage Chevy truck, I was still naked, and she said to get in. I did, and she roared off towards the beach. When we got there, the kayak was breaking free from the sand. I ran into the water catching the kayak. She followed me and helped me to put it in the truck bed. As I took down the tent, she grabbed my clothes gym bag. It contained all my clothes. I put the tent in the bag made for it when she took a rock, placed it in the gym bag, and threw it far out into the water.

"What did you do that for?" I asked.

"Don't you like being my naked pervert slave?" she asked. I got an erection before she even finished her question.

"I do," I said. "I will need those clothes at some point," I thought.

"Questioning me has earned you another spanking," she said. The tailgate was open because the kayak was too long to fit.

"Bend over the tailgate, now," she said. I bent over the tailgate. She took the collapsible kayak paddle, separated the two halves, and gave me ten swats with half of it. My ass was sore again, but my cock stayed rock hard. She put my tent and camping gear into the truck.

When she finished, she said, "Get in the truck." I did.

She drove us back to the farm, with one hand toying with my erection. She was occasionally squeezing my balls to painfully reinforce her dominance.

"Don't ever question me again, slave," she said.

I did not even know what the name of the island was. I thought this must be Fantasy Island. Back at the house, she took my cock into her mouth and sucked me into an intense orgasm. Keeping my come in her mouth, she French kissed me. Using her tongue to force come into my mouth. I relished her wonderful kiss, cum or no cum. We went back to the farmhouse. She opened the white 30s wood stove, and I saw a small patch of cloth, blackened by fire. I recognized it as the last remnant of my shorts, as my captor had burnt my clothes. I was a little frightened but turned on by this.

"I will keep you, pervert," she said. I hoped she would. At bedtime, Samantha had me screw her missionary position. I did, and we both came again.

"You are a good slave. Go to sleep; tomorrow will be hard for you," she said. We both went to sleep naked in each other's arms.

The next day, she woke me and told me that I need to get cleaned up. She brought out scissors, a can of shaving cream, and a single blade razor, as she had me lay with my legs spread. Samantha took the scissors and trimmed most of my pubic hair off. She continued with the razor and shaved off all the hair on my body, even my pubic hair and underarm hair. She shaved off my scraggly beard. It had taken a long time to grow.

"Now go take a shower out back, hurry, my sister will be here soon," she said.

I went out behind the barn and took a shower. The water felt very exciting on my freshly shaved privates. I walked naked both ways. It seemed to me that Mistress Samantha owned the whole island. It was a lot of acres. I felt very safe being naked, plus it turned me on. I had always enjoyed being nude. I often used every opportunity to be naked when home alone. When I looked towards the river, I noticed a ferry landing. I did not even know it was there, and I was nowhere near the channel

"Samantha, when does the ferry come?" I asked.

"Tuesday and Friday. Twice each day 10 and 4," she said. "The ferry transports cars, most of which or heading to the next island. That island requires another ferry to get to it; the second ferry only runs on the same days," she explained. "There are only three farms on this island," she said. I might need clothes, after all. "Most people just drive to the other island over the bridge from the other side. They will probably stop the ferry altogether soon," Samantha said.

"Will your sister be on it?" I asked. Today was Tuesday

"Yes, it will land at ten today," she said.

She pulled me back into the house to have me suck her nipples.

"My breasts are full, empty them, slave," she said. I happily did just that; I loved the taste of her milk. She came only from having her nipples sucked. I now know why she never let them stop making milk. It was one of her favorite kinks.

She had me start cooking breakfast for her and her sister. The white porcelain enameled stove was probably from the '30s, as the appliance was both wood and gas. The gas portion was on the left. I used the gas side to start making breakfast. The ferry arrived, and her sister pulled up in a black BMW. Her sister was sexy, but she seemed a bit younger than Samantha. Samantha's face was much kinder than her sisters. Her sister's breasts were smaller than Samantha's, but she didn't wear a bra. There was no sag; her B cup breasts were firm. Her nipples outlines were sexily visible through her white Tee shirt. Her hair was blonde, most likely bleached. She wore a short pleated black skirt that showed off her gorgeous tanned legs. She wore sexy 4-inch heels; undeniably, both sisters were stunningly beautiful. My dick was hard again. "This is my sister, Candice; you will obey her as you would me," she said.