Cruise Slut 02: Getting There

I couldn't believe I was sitting on a plane bound for New Orleans, in first class, with a man I'd met just 26 days ago, a man who was going to whore me out to dozens of dicks. Dozens? I wondered if I'd maybe break 100. :-)

The rest of that morning, after he had me audition by fucking him, five strangers, and six hotel staff, he sat on a stool to eat his breakfast, while he fed me like a dog, passing bits of food down to pop it in my mouth. I was still so buzzed from all the sex, I really didn't care. He talked about the cruise. It was hard for me to focus. Some sort of swinger cruise, so no kids on board, everyone primed for lots of sex. Nudity OK by the pool and in the play rooms. First class all the way. He'd connect me with a stylist, which at first I thought was for my hair but later realized was for clothes.

"You'll need good slut-wear for the trip. High quality. I'm paying for everything so don't freak out at the price tags. You'll also need themed clothes."

I think I just nodded. I was so exhausted. It made sense the next day, when some woman named Miranda called and said we needed to set up some time as soon as possible to get me set. The next few weeks were a blur -- getting time off work, digging up my passport, getting someone to take care of my cat.

The one thing that really etched into my memory from that morning was the last time he fucked me. Or tried to. He'd had them include a dish of yogurt with the breakfast order. After he fed me bacon and eggs and pancakes from his hand, I thought he was going to feed me the yogurt, too. Instead, he got out some sort of rubber bag with a nozzle. He mixed the yogurt with some water from the sink and filled the bag. He ordered me over to the bed and stuck the nozzle in my cunt. I felt myself fill, overflowing, a stream of milky whiteness coming out. He was semi-hard. He climbed on me and started pumping away, but after like ten minutes he gave up. He said that trick worked sometimes, especially when the cunt was crusty with actual cum, but this time it just wasn't happening, that he really needed that cream pie snatch. Or maybe I had drained his balls enough.

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The Flight

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I didn't see Sir again until he came by to pick me up for the ride to the airport- and yes, he told me to address him as Sir all the time. There was a driver, but not in a limo, just a really nice sedan. I wasn't sure how we were going to fit all my suitcases into the car. I wasn't sure why Miranda had me packing so many clothes when I figured Sir was going to make me walk around naked a lot. And most of the ones Miranda did pack were so small and slinky, I didn't think they'd add up to much. But she also gave me a ton of accessories and makeup, and drilled me in how to use it. I wasn't bad with an applicator, but she got me nailing the smoky, smoldering look, and at least 5 different shades of red lipstick, from relatively demure to "hey, sailor, you can buy me for the whole fleet tonight for one dollar."

Today's makeup was the demure style, though the skirt of my navy blue dress was barely covering my ass and the push-up bra had the girls climbing out of the deep v-cut neckline. Both the panties and bra were as red as the whore lip color, so I was fidgeting, constantly checking to make sure my undies weren't flagging everyone. The shoes were also bright red. Every pair of shoes Miranda got me for the trip was inches higher than what I usually managed. Fortunately, she trained me for hours in how to walk in them, including how to sashay my ass around like a pro.

Sir had me show off my walk for him and the driver as the driver put my suitcases into the trunk. Sir let the driver grope my tits and ass and even stick his fingers in my cunt for a few minutes before we started the ride, and then Sir made me sit with my panties off and my legs spread wide the whole ride to the airport. I saw the driver sniffing his fingers all through the ride.

Even though it was early, the airport was busy, and I think I caused at least a few luggage collisions from guys who were paying more attention to my revealing clothes than anyone else. Even the woman who checked us into First Class was checking me out. She winked at me as she handed me my ticket, and seemed to emphasize the "have a GOOD trip" line.

When Sir settled us into our seats, he insisted I take the aisle. Before they let everyone else on, he pushed my tits even higher and my neckline even lower; it was practically nipple city, especially when you added in the chilled air jets pointed at me. He also had me put the window-side foot on the footrest, with the aisle foot on the floor, making my skirt ride up even more. Sir gave one more tug on my dress as the first other passengers began to fill the front of the aisle as they waited for the other First Class passengers to clear the way. Of course the first one in line was a guy, probably a frequent flier. His eyes locked on my tits. I peeked down and realized the lacy edges of my red bra were clearly visible, and then as his eyes dropped lower, I realized the configuration of my legs let him see "all the way home", so to speak. I started to adjust myself, but Sir gave me a Look and I stopped. He leaned in close to my ear, and his voice gave me chills.

"There's nothing wrong with this level of display. If they want to look, they will. I want them to look. I want them to enjoy looking at you. I want them to wish they were me."

Sir glanced over at the frequent flier guy and smiled, then put his hand on my thigh. The hemline was so high on my leg it barely covered anything. Frequent Flier tore his eyes away from me and moved on down the aisle, but the scene was repeated several times with other men, and even a few women.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. When the car service picked us up at the airport, Sir settled me in the back seat with my tits totally popping out, all the way to the nips, and hiked the skirt up so I was sitting in my undies on the seat, with my legs spread as wide as I could manage. I could see the bulge in Sir's pants; I assumed the driver had a matching one up front.

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Dinner Out

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We spent the night at a charming hotel in the French Quarter. Sir had me change into one of the less scandalous slinky dresses while he took me out to dinner down the street. This one was merely skin-tight, to mid-thigh, and hot pink, hugging every curve enough to be pretty clear I wasn't wearing panties. The top had built-in half bra cups to keep me perky but still let my titty hardons be very obvious. I had a similar dress that was beige and see-thru and so short it didn't truly cover my ass. It didn't have the bra cups, but the fabric was even clingier so it mostly kept my tits up even without a bra. With that one, I felt more naked than naked, so I was glad we went with the hot pink one in town. Even then I felt eyes all over me as we walked down the street and through the restaurant courtyard.

My menu had no prices in it, but it didn't matter since Sir ordered for me. He'd spent some time on the plane quizzing me about my preferences and my experience, or lack of experience with foods like foie gras, escargot, and steak tartare. They served me a dish called barbecued shrimp, but what I got was a bunch of shrimp, "with d' 'haids' on", staring back at me. I started to pick up my knife and fork, totally unprepared for this, when Sir laughed and said that's not how it was done here. He pulled one out of my bowl and peeled it, thankfully removing the "haid" as he called it, before popping it in my mouth. It reminded me of sitting naked by his stool in the hotel room when he fed me breakfast. I felt totally out of my element, but I also felt enspelled by his dominance.

On the short walk back, we crossed paths with a bachelor party, eight or ten well-dressed and truly drunk young men carrying handfuls of beads.

"Show us your tits!" they demanded.

I looked at Sir, unsure of what to do. He smiled back at me.

"You heard the gentlemen. They want to see your tits."

I looked down, not quite certain how to accomplish this feat in the dress I was wearing. The top was so snug I didn't think I could pry them out from up top. Which only left...

Next thing I know, Sir had come around behind me and he was peeling the hemline up, up, and UP. All the way to my armpits. And as I mentioned, I had no panties on, so they got The Full Monty, right there on the street. He was smiling as they checked me out. He ordered me to shake my tits for them, then turn around and bend over, like I had back in the hotel room the first night.

"Do you think she's hot, gentlemen?"

They nodded enthusiastically. I had a feeling where this was going.

"We have a room just up the street, if you'd like to join us."

They didn't need to be asked twice. Master asked the groom-to-be to arrange my tits back in my dress so I was "presentable" before we entered the hotel, and the groom made the most of the opportunity to handle my boobs.

We were in one of those boutique hotels, with a very small elevator, so all those men couldn't fit in with us. The four who rode with us started pawing my ass and tits through the dress as we rode up to the top floor. By the time they got me through the hotel room door, they had their cocks out of their pants and ready for action.

Sir didn't waste any time. He produced a knife from my pocket and rather than wrestle the dress over my head, he sliced it from neck to hemline, leaving me naked as the other five guys walked in the open door.

It felt like the hotel audition, except with more guys. They got naked really quick. They pushed me onto my knees and surrounded me with their cocks. I started licking and sucking and stroking for all I was worth. Some of them had massive cocks with really big hard ons. They loved shoving their tools all the way into my throat, making me gag and almost throw up that shrimp dinner. Others had been drinking too much and were having a hard time staying erect. I actually liked that better -- less wear and tear on my tonsils! But they were all stiff enough to fuck my pussy, even though a few couldn't come from just that and ended up jacking themselves off on my tits. The groom must have taken Viagra because he had a woody that wouldn't quit. He took me in every hole. The guys gave him a hard time as he used my ass, saying he better enjoy it because his wife-to-be wasn't ever going to let him do that after they tied the knot.

Sir didn't try to fuck me that night. He'd already explained the point of bringing along a slut was he really needed to see a lot of cum in me, and on me, before he could get it up. I don't know how common that fetish is, but I'm sure he's not the only man who likes to fuck a well-filled pussy. And I was glad that he wanted someone like me. Even if I did seem more like an accessory he was bringing along, a human fuck doll, rather than a traveling companion. Which was fine, I guess. I liked him well enough, but I didn't have any illusions about this lasting beyond one fuck-filled trip!

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DAY ONE - EMBARKATION

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Embarkation was very exciting for me, never having done a cruise. I loved being up on deck, sipping a drink, enjoying the sunshine. It was also exciting because, this being a swinger cruise, Sir felt totally comfortable exposing my tits to the men who came up and talked to us. We'd be meeting someone, and he'd just casually reach over and pull the side of my top, which easily bared my breasts in their half-cup bra. It was another well-planned outfit from our stylist -- a dress with a short, skin-hugging skirt and front that was two overlapping panels that could be easily spread. A few times he also tugged the skirt up, showing the tiny g-string that kept me within the rules. Nudity was permitted everywhere except the dining rooms, and even then Sir informed me that pasties and g-strings would suffice. I gulped at that, remembering all of the tiny things Miranda had tucked away, assuming those would be for more intimate gatherings, not sitting down mostly naked at the dinner table.

Most people inquired about our plans the trip -- shore excursions, shows, reservations. Sir said he had "surprises in store for me" and didn't want to elaborate. If they asked about our plans for the evening, he was more forthcoming.

"I'm going to tie her to the bed, blindfold her, and let men fuck her bareback all night. Then I'm going to dive into those sopping holes and show her I still own her, every inch of her."

He got a variety of reactions, the most common being "Where do I sign up?" And he had an answer, a card with a web site on it called www.FuckMySlut.com. I knew he wasn't kidding about the men fucking me all night long. That's the whole reason I was here. On the plane, he showed me how men would go to the site and sign up for any available slot, in 20-minute intervals. I was scheduled to take 12-15 cocks per night, so I'd definitely break 100 on this trip. He would slot himself in at various intervals to take advantage of my abused, creamy pussy. And ass. And mouth.

So here I was, our first night on board, chained to the bed. He checked the wrist restraints one more time.

"I'll be watching everything. And listening."

He pointed to the cameras mounted around the room.

"Put on a good show for me."

I did.

I was nervous at first, being restrained and helpless and blind. It helped knowing he was watching. And then I started to like being bound. The helplessness was a bit of a turn on.

The first guy touched me a lot, using me as a masturbation prop before plunging into my pussy and fucking me hard. The second guy was weird -- he sniffed me all over, my cunt, my armpits. I guess he had a scent thing. The third guy was a lot like the first. It was sort of getting...boring? And then the fourth guy barely looked at me, just mounted me and fucked a few strokes before coming in my cunt. What, like 5 minutes, tops? At least it gave me about 15 minutes before the next one. Or I thought it would, but Sir came in, and I guess I was gooey enough to get a start on because he came before the next guy was scheduled to arrive. Or maybe that was his schedule, because the next four guys fucked my ass, and then Sir came and finished that round.

Then there were four guys all at the same time. Sir unchained my hands, though he left the cuffs and blindfold on. I stroked two cocks while the other two worked my cunt and mouth. They switched off a bunch, but they all came in my mouth, and I knew to hold the last lode so Sir could start with a huge puddle of cum around his stiff cock. When he shot his load down my throat, he...giggled. That's the only word for it. He looked me in the eyes and told me I was a good girl. I could feel myself beaming. Then he told me to get some sleep. I rolled over on my side and was asleep before he even left the room.