Ship of Remorse Read online

  I let my mind turn to other thoughts. My trained tongue and lips will not surrender until she gives the command to stop. But I need to divert my attention from my own very wet vagina.

  At the end of my second week at the peep show, the demands became repetitive. I thought of myself as a veteran and if asked, felt that I could very accurately predict the day’s requests. I remember reflecting on how seemingly mundane the daily hours of debauchery had become.

  Then a strange thing happened. Yes, even stranger than being asked to relieve myself in a bowl. It was mid afternoon when I heard quarters drop. The bright lights illuminated and a single pair of eyeholes opened. The hour indicated to me that some dipsomaniac had probably panhandled some money but not enough for a bottle and was thus seeking a quick glimpse in place of cheap wine. In response to the sound and light, I quickly smiled and spread further, as trained.

  “A customer is a customer,” Ernie always chirped and accordingly I flashed as much pink as I could.

  But then I heard the voice.

  “Lie on your back, assume the knee-chest position and spread your labia please.”

  The words were precisely spoken in an accented monotone. And compared to other demands to which I had responded, were not entirely outside of the cosmology under which the Tenth Avenue establishment operated.

  What was strange was the gender of the speaker. It was a woman and the accent was Asian. She was most stern and authoritative.

  “Wider please. Wider. Good. Now on your knees. Display your breasts for me. Yes, and now the nipples. Squeeze. Firmer.”

  Crisply spoken and of course with the commands to squeeze I sprayed. But my feminine observer did not skip a beat in reaction.

  “Squeeze again. Good. Now on your tummy. Yes bend your legs back for me. Now spread your buttocks for me.”

  I never thought I could again feel humiliation, but I did. Over the course of a dozen quarters, this unseen female with her eyes no more than a foot away had me show everything I owned.

  I blushed and did not fully understand why. I had been doing the same for anonymous male voices. What was different?

  As the voice insisted that my cheeks be further parted I instantly complied. The commands were spoken mechanically and my response was equally robotic. There was nothing erotic or sexy about what was happening. The woman was examining me as one would inspect fruit or vegetables before purchase.

  The timer digested its last quarter and as the lights dimmed and the eyeholes snapped shut, I found myself shaking despite responding to requests that were well within the daily routine. What was happening to me?

  Left again in the semi darkness it occurred to me that the stern domineering tone stimulated within me a curious reaction to authority. I was flushed, embarrassed yet physically aroused.

  Hours later my shift ended. I reported to Ernie’s office to obtain my bag of quarters. As I approached I again heard the Asian voice this time emanating from the office.

  “The girl in booth 6. With her baldness and ability to lactate there is a uniqueness that should make a suitable spectacle.”

  I humbly knocked on the open door to announce my presence. Ernie was sitting at his desk. The woman was ensconced in a chair with her back to me. She was dressed in black

  Ernie looked up and with a wiggle of his index finger signaled me to enter.

  “Come in Alexi. I believe you have met Madam Chang.”

  I tip toed into the office still shamed by my reaction to the woman’s commands. But for retrieving my pay and clothing, I usually avoided Ernie’s lair at all times, not wishing to perform any more obscene acts for the gruff manager... or the other girls for that matter.

  The mysterious woman turned in her chair to once again inspect me. Her dark, expressionless eyes fixated on me but she spoke to Ernie as if I was not there.

  “Has she done any other parties, Ernie. She is unmarked.”

  “Stand here, Alexi. Hands on head, be a good girl.”

  Ernie pointed to a spot on the floor in front of his desk and adjacent to the stern visitor. I stepped forward and obediently folded my hands atop my head. With the motion of my arms my breasts rose and I felt my nipples begin to harden.

  “This is her second week, Madam Chang. She hasn’t done any parties and I understand she could use a pay day.”

  A small, feminine hand reached out, pinched my right buttock then smoothed around my hip to find my pudendum. I separated my feet. The response to her exploring fingers was ingrained after two years aboard the ship. I opened for her and cursed myself for consenting to such subjugation. She smiled, but it was not a pleasant smile. It was one of diabolism.

  I felt a finger insert itself between my meaty outer lips.

  “She’s wet... and she’s well trained.”

  I glanced down at her. She was a beautiful woman in her thirties and her cosmetics... eyeliner, mascara, rouge, had been meticulously applied. Her raven hair was drawn back in a tight bun. Her black pullover dress was sleeveless and tightly hugged her trim body. It left her shoulders partially bare but rose in front to encase her neck in a collar resembling that of a clergyman.

  “Eyes forward, Alexi.”

  Ernie’s command was brusque and I immediately diverted my eyes as Madam Chang’s fingers probed deeply. I remember finding it odd that such a professionally groomed woman had such a modest manicure. Her nails were not only trimmed but those on her exploring right hand were planed to practically nothing. Her fingers were as smooth as glass.

  “Has she been whipped?”

  Her question stunned me but I remained silent since it was directed at Ernie.

  “Not that I know of. Since she’s lactating I would suppose not recently since she’s been carrying a child.”

  I moaned as Madam Chang’s fingers found the most sensuous of places and diddled deftly. I heard a soft feminine laugh. Her hand withdrew leaving me in a frustrated state of partial masturbation.

  “The usual, Ernie. I’m sure you’ll convince her that it is in her best interests to comply. Have her shave before arriving.”

  The small hand withdrew an envelope from a compact purse then slid it across the desk to the waiting grubby eager hands of my boss.

  “Yes, Madam.”

  Ernie sounded surprisingly sycophantic with his meek reply. The Asian woman stood. She was shorter than me but her posture was perfect and projected not only a physical strength but an intellectual fortitude as well. She glared at me then wordlessly departed.

  For some reason I remained standing with my hands neatly folded on my fuzzy cranium. Ernie opened the envelope, quickly removed some greenbacks and stuffed them in his pocket.

  “Remember I mentioned bachelor parties, Alexi. Well Madam Chang runs parties. Not necessarily for prospective grooms but for visiting businessmen. Guys who are in town from other places. You know, away from their wives and girlfriends. She does what we kind of do here, only more privately and more upscale if you know what I mean.”

  It could not possibly be on a lower scale, I felt like interjecting. But I bit my tongue. I had learned that the amount of my daily take of quarters was quite subjective. At the end of one particular day during which I expressed a degree of sarcasm, the bag contained only $15.00. I got the message.

  “Madam wants you at the Hilton tomorrow night at 8:00 p.m. You heard her about shaving. The going rate is $50 and you’ll probably be there for two hours or so. Plus, the party guys will probably throw some dough your way. They all got expense accounts...”

  My heart leapt at the $50 number. And for only a couple of hours! At that point my daily take at the peep show, after a full eight hours or so of degrading exhibition, averaged $30.

  When Ernie slid the envelope back toward me I grabbed it with the zest of a child handed a gaily-wrapped gift. I was excited and almost forgot about my daily bag of quarters. I for sure forgot about Madam’s question concerning whipping.

  “I think it’s time for your collar and belt.”
r />   Ms. Powers’ suggestion brings me back from my reverie.

  Yes, as always she is correct. I am too aroused and without the proper restraint will find myself being disobedient.

  She steps back and the front of her skirt slides off my smooth shiny head. It is my duty to retrieve the leather implements from the nearby buffet. Ms. Powers disappears into her bedroom as I buckle the collar around my neck and do likewise with the waist belt. She returns with a small jewelry box and a smile.

  “That little gift I mentioned. I had you measured during your last gynecological examination. They should be perfect.

  “Spread your feet.”

  She places the box down as I comply. The waist belt has many attachments two of which are wrist cuffs at the right and left hips. She quickly straps in my wrists. The cuffs are comfortable but tight. Then she opens the box and kneels.

  “Goodness, Alexi, You are fragrant. No wonder Bobby says the dogs yelp when you’re nearby.”

  I flush with her comment. Yes, I can smell the aroma of my excited sex. As written, Ms. Powers insists I go natural. In a recent visit to the doctor, his attempt to disguise the reaction to my odor during the referenced examination was most humiliating. And Bobby, the dog trainer, finds it to be most amusing to watch the large male dogs savor my aroma. I am powerless to stop the antics as they bark and energetically push their noses into my nest. Ms. Powers’ was not explicit concerning my status with regard to the dogs. Judging from the care and relative level of freedom the canines are afforded it is most likely that their status is above that of mine.

  “Hold still.”

  I look down to see two sizable gold balls, connected with a length of elastic cord.

  “Custom made for you, Alexi. A little gift from the Fatipton Estate”

  She spreads my labia and inserts the larger of the balls. With my wetness, it slides in all too easily. The second follows as her long fingers work the first well into my vagina. Then I feel my muscles contract, sucking the perfectly sized sphere right up to my cervix. The elastic cord causes the second smaller ball to dangle at the very opening of my vulva, tantalizing my sensitive inner labia.

  “Perfect. The doctor said your strong pelvic muscles would hold it in place.

  “Walk a little.”

  The sensation is indescribable. My muscles involuntarily contract against the deeply inserted ball as if squeezing the head of a penis. The second ball dangles just inside the entrance to my vagina but when I move about the elastic cord seems to stretch and it pops in and out, as if someone is fingering me. I tug my arms against the firm wrist cuffs. My vulva desperately needs attention. Ms. Powers laughs with the futile attempts to free my hands for play.

  “No. No, Alexi. You know that’s not permitted. We need you aroused for lactation.

  “But you can spend the night with me. First let’s take a little walk. It looks like you’re really enjoying your new jewelry.”

  Yes I am... too much.

  Ms. Powers finds my leash in the buffet. She clips it to the front of my collar and leads me out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  As Ms. Powers and I enter the hallway my mind wanders to that frightful night in the New York hotel.

  I knocked on the door of room 827 as instructed on the typewritten note in the envelope. I expected to be greeted by Madam Chang or a bunch of horny businessmen. Instead a middle-aged woman opened the door and as I peered down at the note to assure I had the proper room she bid me to enter.

  “Quickly please. You’re expected upstairs in an hour.”

  I stepped in and was alarmed to see her wearing a white uniform. I could not help recalling my two years of servitude aboard The Scarlet Letter where the starched white-clothed women were the source of much torment.

  “Strip. You’re to be showered and cleansed.”

  The matronly woman stood over me as I removed and folded my clothing. She pointed to a chair as a likely receptacle. When I returned she silently motioned with her hand and I dutifully followed her signals, lifting my arms and assuming a most humble stance of spread feet and hands clasped together at the back of my neck.

  She approached and gruffly rubbed her hands all over me as if frisking me for a weapon. Her fingers found my genitalia and briefly kneaded my pudendum.

  “You’re well shaved. Good. You’d be surprised how many girls don’t follow instructions. Into the bathroom. Get on all fours.”

  The bathroom was filled with equipment. Miss Starched White had assembled quite a bit of medical stuff. I began to become concerned about my easy $50. Particularly when she snapped on latex gloves and lubricated my anus.

  “Just a quart to start. Warm and soapy. We’ll need you nice and clean. Two or three fills should have you running clear.”

  I suppose my experiences aboard the ship had programmed my reaction. I calmly knelt while the harridan filled my bowels not once but three times, the whole while blathering about her past life as a punishment nurse at a girls reformatory school.

  “Now those were fun times,” she chortled as she gave the command to expel the final the rinse. “Catering to hairless little slits. I had them squirming every time.”

  I had grown tired of walking about the hotel room naked and full of the slushy liquid. I ran to the bathroom with her words permitting release.

  A shower followed. The woman soaped me like I was a child, ensuring that every crevice was clean. With my internal cleansing, the large sudsy sponge felt good and I became tremendously relaxed.

  Then Madam Chang entered. It was time to be inspected and another pair of feminine hands explored every inch of my flesh.

  “I want her well oiled, inside and out. Start her flow. These guys are good payers and with a proper display the evening will be very lucrative. Bring her in leashed. You know the routine.”

  Madam Chang left. It was interesting that she wore the same garment or an identical one to that worn the day before in Ernie’s office.

  Miss Starched White turned to me and smiled. I felt like a staked goat, standing naked and completely vulnerable.

  Spread about on the bed was an assortment of items. A large bottle of baby oil was produced. Her gloved hands smeared my entire body. She was quick and brusque and within minutes I was indeed oiled. For my vagina and rectum a tube of KY jelly appeared and the substance was liberally applied to both passages.

  Miss Starched White completed her task by grasping a breast in each hand and not only soothing lubricant over the sizable surface but also as suggested, pinching my nipples and beginning my flow.

  I immediately sprayed my essence of course and the large, dour woman stepped back and laughed.

  “Yes, you’re certainly going to get some attention tonight.”

  She led me to a mirror for no other reason than to humiliate me. My white skin shined back at me. I was indeed quite the sight with milk dripping from nipples highlighted by breasts, which seemed to glow in reflecting light.

  Among the paraphernalia lying on the bed were strips of cloth. I soon found myself with my arms pulled behind my back with my right wrist tied to my left elbow and my left wrist tied to my right.

  “Oriental in technique. Madam’s clients will be most appreciative.”

  A leather neck collar with leash finished the simple bondage. At that point I earnestly questioned the ease with which I would earn the $50.

  “I’m afraid you’ll need to be blindfolded for the walk. The hotel is very sensitive about who is aware of the location of Madam Chang’s entertainment room. Very hush, hush... as you’ll see.”

  Another strip of cloth was tied around my head covering my eyes. I felt tension on the leash.

  “Come.”

  The woman was very gentle in pulling and guiding me about on the leash. Perhaps she had some degree of compassion, perhaps her experience told her that blindfolded and subjugated girls naturally complied with tugs and commands.

  The door to the room opened and we exited. With my lubrication
, not only between my cheeks but within every crevice, walking furnished a strangely erotic sensation. But my heart raced knowing that we were in the hotel corridor and waiting for the elevator seemed like an eternity.

  What if guests were encountered?

  We stepped in and the elevator went up. At least it felt like it went up. Then it stopped and although the doors opened the leash did not signal me to move.

  People entered! With me standing, naked, bound and leashed!

  “Halloween party,” Ms. Starched White quickly improvised.

  I heard the giggling of a young female and within seconds, gratefully the elevator stopped again. We stepped out. In following the leash I knew my guide was ahead of me. So when I felt the furtive pinch of fingers on my slippery buttocks I realized someone was taking advantage. Did ‘Miss Giggles’ have a male companion?

  Down another hallway we opened a door without knocking. Muffled voices, clinking glasses and the smell of tobacco told me the room was large and quite occupied. When I heard the door shut the cloth was removed from my eyes.

  My sight adjusted quickly. The room was dark and numerous Asian men, all dressed in business attire were milling about. Serving in various capacities were Asian women. Young, diminutive and naked some were carrying trays of drinks, some food and one was on her knees being addressed by a rather demanding looking middle aged gentleman. Jewelry glinted from between the thighs of the girls. What little natural hair they had there had been shorn.

  My ears detected no English. I believe the entourage was from Japan.

  My leash was removed and Miss Starched White retreated. It was evident that the preferred state for women was nudity and the dour, uniformed termagant did not fit into the scene.

  I, however, drew much attention. Madam Chang’s demand that I be well oiled was devious, for the coating highlighted my nakedness and drew attraction. The walls and ceiling were painted in black and the carpet was a deep red. Therefore the room was very dark except where spotlights, which seemed to be randomly hung from above, served to illuminate that which was placed directly below.