The Lust Boat Ch. 09byLexinatrix©
Ch. 9. Does she want it bad enough to touch herself in front of an audience?
Lacey hadn't slept well since she had been introduced to the woman responsible for her captivity. She hated Angie for having her taken prisoner and raped. She hated her own body for enjoying the depraved things Angie and the other women did to her. She couldn't control it; her cunt swelled and lubricated and came when they touched her.
She had begged to be allowed to come. Had humiliated herself by calling that traitorous bitch "mistress." She shuddered at the thought that Angie considered her a slave, to be used at her mistress's pleasure for the rest of her life. Lacey didn't want that. She didn't! So why did thinking about it make her a little wet?
The problem was that her over-stimulated body had become accustomed to frequent orgasms. In the first weeks of Lacey's time on the boat, the attendants had wrung orgasm after orgasm from her, despite her struggles and protests. Now, Angie insisted she earn each one; release came at the price of shame. When Lacey pleaded to be touched, it made her a party to her own violation.
Lacey needed to come so badly. Pressure throbbed between her legs, making it hard to think about anything else. The attendants had begun to lock her into a chastity belt or to shackle her hands and feet whenever she was left unsupervised. Lacey blushed at the implication that she was so sex-crazed that she had to be physically prevented from masturbating, but she knew it was probably true.
Whenever she was in her room, the screens played clips from videos produced on the ship. Lacey herself figured in many of them, moaning and writhing as her body betrayed her. She couldn't help wondering how many people subscribed to the feed, how many people had, for example, see her taking perverse and unwilling pleasure in being fucked in the ass with a nightstick. It had been smooth and blunt, she remembered, and she had been rewarded with a stroke to her clit each time she thrust her hips back on it. When she'd come, her muscles had clutched hard at the polished wood. She could see in the clip that her ass had taken some time to recover and close after such a thorough fucking. As if her body was now so accustomed to having things shoved into it that it missed them when they were removed.
Each time she watched a scene again, she remembered how it had felt. When the clip showed another woman instead, Lacey found herself imagining herself in the woman's place. She watched raptly even as she wondered how many of those women were also unwilling victims. After all, she herself must seem to be a wanton and voluntary participant to viewers who saw her driven to orgasm after orgasm. Surely it was wrong to enjoy watching these other women. But more than once, she was startled by the jerk of the chain on her wrist or the hard surface of the chastity belt under her hand because she had reached without thinking to touch herself.
Lacey dreamed of coming, frustrating dreams that never quite got her over the edge. This morning, waking from such a dream, she was rousted out of bed, washed, and subjected to the daily strengthening and stretching routine. Debbie was very careful not to touch Lacey's clit as she manipulated the probes in Lacey's cunt and ass. "You're not going to get off that easily," she chuckled as Lacey panted and bucked her hips. "Your mistress is waiting to play with you."
Angie was indeed waiting for her, in a cabin that was furnished like a lounge. Seated on a sofa, she looked smug and at ease. She smiled at Lacey. Lacey looked away.
Lacey felt vulnerable standing before Angie in only a thin silk robe; Angie was fully dressed in black leather pants and a red blouse. Lacey's pussy was wet and swollen. She was afraid Angie could smell her.
"You poor thing," Angie said. "I can see how hard your nipples are from here. You must be desperate to come."
Lacey said nothing, looking at the floor.
"Sit down, girl," Angie said, indicating a leather armchair.
It was all the way across the cabin from Angie's own seat on the couch, so Lacey sat down willingly enough. The lips of her sex slid wetly against each other as she did so. Involuntarily, she rocked her hips a little.
"Wouldn't it be better to accept some release so you aren't constantly thinking about how much you want it?" Angie asked.
Lacey was startled. She had been thinking something similar. But she knew Angie would demand a price for any relief from this tension. She shifted on the leather of the chair again, and a tiny moan rose in her throat.
Angie smiled a little. "You're in luck. I'm going to give you the opportunity to come. In fact, I think you'll have some of the best orgasms you've ever had."
Lacey's cunt clenched without consulting her brain. She did need to come. "What do I have to do?" *Maybe it won't be so bad.*
"Now, is that any way to address your mistress?"
"Please, m-mistress. I want to come. What do you want me to do?"
"That's just it. *You* have to do it. You're going to touch yourself right here in front of me and all the cameras."
Lacey's stomach lurched. She couldn't do that. Up until now, she'd managed to maintain a distance from the things that were being done to her body. She was an innocent victim. Even when she was begging to be allowed to come, she had told herself she was being forced into it, that she didn't really want these women to fuck her. They had to tie her down most of the time, didn't they? She ignored the little voice in her head that pointed out that, lately, the restraints had often served not to prevent her escape but to prevent her from reaching orgasm.
Touching herself in front of Angie-- that was dirty. Masturbating just because her clit felt like it would burst if she didn't come soon, not because she was being coerced or threatened. If she did that, she was participating in her own degradation.
"Of course, you don't have to," Angie said. "But you won't be allowed to come until you do. I'll just send you back to your room to watch more videos." Her voice dropped. "I know you're aching for it. Think how good it would feel to touch your clit..."
It was true; the pressure of arousal in Lacey's sex was painful. She couldn't concentrate on why she shouldn't do something to ease it. Her robe fell open as she slipped a hand down to cup her crotch.
Pressing with her whole hand dulled the pangs of pain. Without meaning to, Lacey lifted her hips up to intensify the contact. She just wanted to take the edge of urgency off so she could think, but, instead of soothing, her hand only inflamed her more.
With a flare of shame, Lacey spread her legs wide, over the arms of the leather chair. She knew she was exposing herself lewdly, but she desperately needed to be able to touch her sex.
"You're wet, slut. Scoop some up and spread it around," Angie directed.
Lacey obeyed, slicking the damning evidence of her arousal over her puffy lips. When her slippery fingers found her clit, her whole body jerked. She rolled the hard shaft between her fingers, no longer caring that she was making embarrassing, hungry noises. She pulled back the hood of her clit and circled the tip.
Her thighs and lower back twanged with tension. She was going to come soon, and it was going to feel glorious.
Lacey didn't understand at first. She kept stroking her clit closer to the edge of climax. Angie jumped up and grabbed her wrist, wrenching her hand away. Lacey looked up at her, almost in tears. To have it almost within her grasp, and then to have it taken away... "You said I could come, mistress. Please!"
"I did, and I said you'd have to do it yourself. But I want you to use my toy to do it." Angie dragged a device out to the center of the room. It looked like half a barrel, cut longwise so that a woman on her knees could straddle it. There was an attachment on top, a phallus with a clitoral stimulator. "This, pet, is a Sybian. As you know, I'm a fan of both the carrot and the stick when it comes to discipline. And both carrots and sticks are great fun to shove up a slave's ass, if I'm in a literal mood. The Sybian is a carrot."
Lacey gave her a lust-glazed look, unable to focus beyond her need for release.
"Never mind," Angie said. "All you need to know is that, in the future, you may earn the right to use this toy as a reward for good behavior. You were a good slave just now, fingering your dirty pussy while I watched. So I'm going to introduce you to how good obedience can feel."
Angie hauled a weak-kneed Lacey to her feet and walked her over to the toy. She handed her a control box. "Remember, you're going to do this yourself. I'm just observing. Kneel straddling the machine and lower your cunt onto the cock."
Lacey moaned as the silicone cock filled her. It was just big enough to be satisfying without discomfort. She worked herself up and down on it until her clit pressed firmly on the pad at the base.
"Now you can adjust the controls."
Lacey twisted the dials on the box, made reckless by need. Angie and the rest of the room disappeared. The only thing in Lacey's world was the machine, vibrating and gyrating as she rode it. She shamelessly fucked herself on it. Nothing had ever felt so good. It vibrated inside her and against her clit, but the attachment also rotated, pressing deliciously against the walls of her hungry cunt.
She didn't even pause after she rocked and thrusted her way to her first orgasm. Her second orgasm, only a minute or two later, caused her to slow her pace and turn down the dials, but she still rode the machine to a third orgasm.
Lacey would have continued to ride the Sybian until she collapsed of exhaustion, but Angie forced her off the device. Lacey lay on the floor, gasping and occasionally twitching.
"Did you enjoy that, my little slut?"
Lacey opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. Her throat was sore. She must have been screaming and moaning, but she couldn't remember anything but the pleasure.
Angie just laughed. "Good. Then you'll be eager to please me, because that's the only way you'll get another chance with the Sybian."