Waking Up on a Boat

It was the back and forth rocking that had woken Sam from her sleep. She had been dreaming of him taking her in his car. She didn't even think it was possible, but of course, in dreams, everything is possible. She could feel herself move up and down, and had opened her eyes to see what was causing it.

She gasped at what she found, and widened her eyes as she stared ahead. In front of Sam, and all around her was blue. Clear blue. The rippling pattern sparkling in the scorching sun as it rocked Sam back and forth almost blinded her and she stared in confusion at what she saw.

She quickly turned around and sat. She was sitting on the bow of a boat. A large boat. And an expensive-looking one at that. It had a brown and navy coloured theme to it, and wooden decking that ran from the bow to the stern and a small compartment that sat in the middle with a door.

At probably 20 metres in length, the decking was pristine and smart looking. Not too many furnishing, just a few lights that were planted in the floor and few beige-coloured couches attached to the side of the boat.

Sam went to stand, but was stopped mid-way as the small door of the cabin at the end of the deck opened. She recognised who it was immediately and her stomach flipped as she watched Gary shut the door behind him. Of course, he wasn't 'Gary' to Sam. She only referred to him as 'Sir'. His eyes immediately locked on Sam's and a smile replaced the blank emotionless expression on his face. If Sam wasn't mistaken, she'd have said she'd seen a hint of relief in his smile, but she ignored her intuition and continued to stare at him.

He remained silent and sauntered over to her.

Wearing only baggy denim shorts, his muscled stomach visibly rippled with every step. It sent endless electric shocks of pleasure to the bottom of her stomach and she struggled to pull her eyes away from his chest.

He took deliberate, torturously slow steps as he neared her and eventually stopped at her feet. Her eyes, still fixed to the rippled skin of his torso, forced themselves to look up and stare into the dark grey eyes in front of her. His eyes weren't his usual pale grey, but a dark, almost black colour. A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine, but she ignored it and continued to stare.

"Where are we?" She said finally, breaking the silence.

His stare remained. "On a boat."

"Oh really, I hadn't noticed," she said, rolling her eyes. His sudden change of expression scared her and she was forced to look down from his raised brow and un-amused glare.

"Watch you tone, little one. We're on my boat." Sam immediately looked up, surprised.

"You have a boat?" He only nodded.

"But...Sir-" He seemed to already know what was on her mind and answered her question before she had time to ask it.

"We're on here, little one, because I needed time alone with you."

Looking around, Sam understood he didn't just mean alone in his apartment bedroom, but literally alone on a wide open sea with no one to bother or interrupt them. The next question popped into her head and as if following suit, he answered it without her needing to ask.

"Last night, I gave you permission for a night out with your friends." Sam's stomach dropped. "Do you remember?"

She nodded slowly.

"At three in the morning, I got a phone call. Turns out you'd had too much to drink. Samantha, I found you passed out in ClubD on a couch with your friends."

This was too much information to take in. She'd just woken up. Three in the morning? The last she remembered was ordering a round of vodka shots at two in the morning. How much had she drunk? She refused to meet his gaze and shoved her face in her hands.

"I took you home with me and laid you on my bed. You have no idea how angry I was with you. I wanted to drag you over my knee and spank the living hell out of you there in the club."

Sam shook her head in her hands and rubbed her ankles nervously against one another.

"I was restless. You wouldn't wake up, and I was stuck in my apartment, stalking back and forth trying to fight back my anger. It didn't work. So, I grabbed you, changed you and drove us to my boat. I needed peace and quiet to think."

Sam stared down at her clothes and in surprise, found herself in one of his white linen shirts. She could feel his eyes burn into the top of her head as it was stuffed into her hands. How could she be so stupid? Passed out? Oh, how embarrassing! Who rang him? Did she interrupt him from something important? Had he been asleep when her friends rang?

The questions ran endlessly in her mind and slowly looking up, Sam tore herself from the security of her non-threatening palms and met the threatening, petrifying and sinister gaze of 'Sir'. She'd seen that gaze before. She'd forgotten to tell him she went out for a drink with her 'boy' friend, Daniel, and when she told him, his stare was enough to send her running. That night, she'd received 30 spanks, 30 lashings from his belt and 10 strokes from the cane. She didn't sit down for a week.

Sam buckled under his now familiar gaze and shifted uncomfortably on her seat. She didn't know what to say.

"I'm so sorry, S-" She wasn't able to finish his name because as soon as she'd begun to say 'Sir', he'd grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. Dragging her across the deck, Sam struggled to keep up with him and half ran, half waked just to prevent herself from falling over her feet.

"Sir," she'd shouted but all too soon had she said it, she was cut off as she was hauled over the stern's metal frame side; her torso hanging over the water, her bottom up in the air. She felt a breeze on her behind and realized she was panty-less. He'd dressed her in just a shirt. He must have already planned this.

Sam inhaled deeply as she awaited his next move.

"Do you realise how worried how I was?" he barked from behind her. His hand was held firmly against her back.

"Sir..."

"You wouldn't wake up, Samantha. You've been passed out for ten hours."

Was it 1pm already? He was shouting now.

His hand came crashing down on her shirt covered behind. He'd hit her with such ferocity it had forced the tailed of her shirt to lift up and reveal her bared, now pink behind. She yelped out in pain and gripped tightly onto the metal pole beneath her.

"You'd been drugged, Samantha."

Sam froze.

She heard the panic in his voice as he yelled at her from behind. Drugged? No, surely not. Who would drug her? Why would anyone drug her? How? The questions raced endlessly through Sam's mind and a small tear escaped her.

She lay there. Still. His hand was still pressed to her back and her shirt still raised from her behind. The anticipation was killing her, and she breathed in and out rapidly. She knew then and there that this wasn't for pleasure. No. This was for pain. Real pain. This was a punishment. And she deserved every little inch of it. She deserved to feel his pain.

His hand suddenly came crashing down once again, but this time, it didn't stop. It came down again. And again. And again. She'd never felt so much pain from the palm of a hand in her entire life and she cried out as he went passed 40.

Fuck. She was in for a long night tonight.

After 60 spanks, her bottom was numb. The skin was red-raw. She couldn't even feel the pain. It was so inflamed, the blazing heat over powered the sting and replaced the pain. She was exhausted...emotionally, mentally....and physically.

She lay, panting, waiting... crying.

Sam felt his arm slide under her stomach and lift her up. With her shirt still up, he pulled her to her feet and gracefully quickly bent her down, forcing her to rest her hands on the pole. She knew exactly what was to come.

"Don't move," he said quietly. He always kept it hidden. Hidden from her. Hidden from everyone.

She sensed him move away and close a door behind him.

The wait was torturous. It felt like she'd been bent over, waiting, for hours. Her bottom was still ablaze, and a single tear ran down her cheek and rested at her chin, before dropping and landing in a single, small puddle directly below her face.

She heard it before feeling it. She gasped as it cut through the air like a knife in butter; its sound more deathly than the pain it caused. She hadn't even heard him return, and so screamed when the cane stroked her bare cheeks, shocking the dear life out of her. She could feel the welt on her skin begin to rise and exhaled loudly, oblivious to the breath she'd held. The second one came twice as hard, and hit just below the first.

She could feel the wood bite into her skin. Wood. Worse than the skin of his hand or the plastic of his brush. Even worse than the leather of his belt. The pain was incredible. She'd only ever had the cane once before, and vowed never to give him reason to use it on her again. She gripped the pole ahead so hard, her knuckles had turned white and she started to lose feeling in her hands. She bit her lip and awaited the next stroke.

2 more came and she was left silent. She couldn't scream anymore. No sound came out. No yelp. No cry. Just a whimper. A waterfall of tears were running down her face and dripping off her chin. The small puddle of one tear below had grown to form a big circle, dampening a part of the wooden decking.

The next six came in a quick succession and Sam collapsed as the last one struck across all other nine. She didn't have the strength to carry on and fell to her knees with her hands still tightly gripping the metal pole. She was crying uncontrollably now.

She heard the cane fall and felt a pair of hands wrap around hers. A pair of thumbs stroked across her knuckles and she felt them slide under her hand, tearing them from the now burning hot pole.

They were lowered to her knees and the pair of hands slid gently to her waist. Slowly, and with graceful ease, she was picked up, turned around, and pushed into the warm, hard muscled chest of Gary. She cried long and hard into him, held him to her as her arms wrapped around his lean, muscled back. She hid her face in the dip between his pecks and cried an endless number of apologies into his skin. His hand stroked her back, being careful to avoid her now severely bruised and tender bottom, and his other stroked her hair.

His touch; so dissimilar from his last. From swiping through the air to gain enough speed and power to apply pain to her behind, he was now stroking her with the tender loving care she was so in love with. As much as she loved a few pleasurable spanks now and again, she also loved his familiar, tantalisingly slow touch as his skin brushed across hers. There was so much love held in such a simple touch. It was like he was sending his love from his body to hers. She was besotted with Gary. She now knew how much pain she had caused him and felt dreadfully guilty for it. She didn't know how to make it up to him, but she knew this for sure. She never, ever wanted to leave his side.

She removed her face from his now wet chest and leaned up. Kissing his lips tenderly, she whispered one last apology before pressing her lips once more to his, but not removing them. She kissed him with the love and passion he deserved. The love and passion her showed her every day.

Even the love and passion she'd felt from the beating she'd just received. He'd beaten her out of love. Out of care. And that meant more to Sam than anything else.

She dipped her tongue into his mouth and traced the side of his tongue. She curved it around, and dipped it out, and then stroked it along his bottom lip. She pulled his lip by her teeth, and let it go. She couldn't get enough of him.

Gary, now unable to help himself, kissed her back, and they stood still in the centre of the deck, entwined in each other, kissing each other's lips for dear life. Their hands roamed around one another's body, stroking, brushing, and kneading each other's skin. They could feel their excitement build, could hear the heavy panting of one another breath. Samantha could feel Sir's arousal as it pressed into her stomach, and she suddenly shrieked as she felt his fingers brush under her blouse and stroke her pussy.

"You're wet, little one." He said, with a low smirk, still trying to catch his breath.

"And you're hard, Sir." She went to stroke the material stretched at his pants but a quick hand grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Please, Sir," she continued. His eyes were cold and for a second, Sam questioned whether he would give her permission. But his eyes eventually softened, and he weakened his grip on her wrist, bringing it to his mouth. Gently kissing the top of her hand, his lips brushed each individual knuckle before releasing her hand and letting it drop back to his pants.

A smile crossed Sam's lips, and she quickly grabbed the button of his shorts, releasing it from the hole. To her surprise, she found Sir commando underneath his pants, and licked her lips as the denim shorts slowly dropped to his ankles. His size was impressive, and it rested lightly against his still rippled torso as it stood heavily erect.

Sam dropped to her knees. Her face was held just below his arousal. Sir had long legs. The longest legs she'd ever seen. She couldn't count the number of dreams she'd had of her legs entwined with his. She wouldn't say she had a fetish for legs, but there was something about a man's long, muscly and slightly hairy legs that just attracted Sam. She lays her hands on the muscled carves just above his feet, and delicately stroked them up. She could feel the lean muscle tense under her skin as her tips brushed against him. She could hear him breathe heavily from above, and she smiled to herself as she knew the anticipation was killing him. Sam didn't like to have control, in fact, it rather turned her pleasure off, but there was something about seeing a man lose all control of himself under a women's tantalising touch that turned her on.

She could feel herself getting wetter, but she ignored it, knowing it'd be most opportune later on. Her hands reach the top of his thighs, and gently stroked his length. She could feel the veins under her fingers as blood was pumped to the tip of his dick. It was pulsating under her hand, and she revelled in the loss of his control. She leant forward, and stuck out her tongue.

Sam licked the tip of his arousal and could taste the saltiness of his pre-cum. It was working. Her anticipation had not only proved itself through his heavy panting and tensing of his muscles, but also through his pre-ejaculation. She forced back a giggle and carried on licking down his still growing length. She traced the entire size, bringing her tongue back to the tip before planting a delicate kiss.

Then, she quickly took him in her mouth.

She forced him all the way to the back of her throat. She could feel herself gag, feel her reflexes jerk beneath his nib. She pulled him out, resting his tip just at the opening of her lips, and pushed him back in again. But this time, she kept him there.

She started to suck, contracting her muscles at the back of her mouth so as to tighten around his size and pull him further in. She closed around his size, and let her mouth go to work. Her tongue licked, her teeth bit and her throat consumed.

She could feel him start to shudder, and she knew he was close. Her right hand rose and grabbed the end of his length as her mouth consumed the rest.

She delicately tickled underneath and sucked hard on the front. His legs were starting to jerk, and she could hear him groan loud and deep from above. She looked up and found his eyes staring down at her. But not filled with pleasure of a growing climax, but filled with love. Love for her pet, his submissive, his love.

This spurred her on, and letting go of his length, she took him whole in her mouth. She sucked him all the way down, feeling the tip of his penis hit the back of her throat once more.

And suddenly, a jerk of his knees and loud groan sent an explosion of cum into Sam's mouth. She kept her lips tightly sealed around him and swallowed every bit of his juice. She sucked him dry until she could get no more and gently removed her mouth. Wiping her lips, she stood up and stared into his eyes.

He leaned down and planted a small tender kiss on her lips, wrapping his hand around her neck and forcing her lips hard against his. He could taste himself of her lips, and only loved her more for it.

Letting her go, Sam stood back. Just as she was about to look up once more into his eyes, a click of his fingers snapped by her ear, and she immediately stood in front of him, her eyes down and her head bowed. Sam was sent into submission, and her pussy started to tingle once more. She knew what was to come and she smiled to herself as he took her hand and lead her to the small door of the cabin in the middle of the deck.