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Chapter 9. Pirates of Phantasm
When I joined Rafiq at the helm that evening, he said, “By the sound of it, your get-together with Ivy seemed to have ended up satisfactory to everyone.”
“Did you have your ear to the wall?”
“Of course not. But you can understand my concern when you put yourself in a vulnerable position with Ivy.”
I understood Rafiq’s concern, but I felt like giving him a hard time. “Well from my point of view, just about everyone on this boat seems to want to get me in a vulnerable position. How do you know I’m not more comfortable entrusting myself to another woman than to you guys?
“Well... But, aren’t I careful?” Rafiq seemed taken aback. “And isn’t it reasonable for me to be a little worried about what you might be getting yourself into with Ivy.”
“Actually I understand your concern. It’s just that with all this stuff I’ve had to submit to lately, I always have to worry about what I’m getting myself into.”
“I didn’t know that. I thought you were really into it.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Well, yes. Don’t you?”
“Actually, yes, of course I do. ...But it’s more exciting to think that I don’t. Does that sound crazy?”
“No, it sounds like more fun. ...But what’s this thing about me raping you this afternoon?”
Laughing as I took his hand, I asked, “Did you overhear everything I said in there?”
“Actually I respect your privacy. But at that point you were all getting pretty noisy, and I was wondering if I was going to have to do something to rescue you. But I stopped paying much attention after things settled down a bit... when it sounded like you weren’t being pushed beyond your limits.”
“Oh, well... April was looking out for me too. Anyway, I probably deserved the whipping Ivy gave me.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Whatever,” I replied, not wishing to reveal my fantasies. “Anyway, did I say anything else weird in there? I don’t even remember.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t try to hear. ...But there was something about me being an animal.”
Laughing, I said, “Oh, that.” I caressed his cheek. “Such a beast. I’m in the thrall of a savage master who goes about the world disguised as a cultured and cosmopolitan professional.”
“This may take some readjustment of my self image. But then maybe not. I guess I’m the one who made the allusion to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”
Smiling, I said, “You know you beat me to make sure I satisfy you.”
“You have an enchanting take on reality.” Rafiq gave my a long kiss. His hand slid under my top.
*************
Before the Skipper had retired for the evening, I felt that I needed to talk to him. He was in his berth reading the novel Jane Eire, which I had brought and finished a couple days previous. And with headphones he was listening to a CD.
To me his musical tastes were sophisticated. He was into obscure 20th century composers – people I had never heard of – like Hovhaness, Martinu, Hanson, and Rodrigo. After Rafiq started listening to the Skipper’s CDs, then of course I did too.
Anyway, I approached and waited for him to acknowledge me. When he finally looked up and took off his headphones, I said, “I wanted to talk about certain things that happened this afternoon.”
He was eyeing me sternly. I felt intimidated. But still, it seemed best to proceed. “It’s about when I interceded to shield Ivy. You were so mad at me. The way you whipped me, it hurt so much I thought I was going to faint. Yet I don’t feel I was doing wrong.”
“And?” he said coldly.
“Well... I wanted to talk about it. Your anger.”
“What makes you think I was angry?”
“Well, the way you whipped me. It hurt so much.”
“You already said that.”
“Well... Are you saying you weren’t mad at me?”
“I gave you the whipping you needed. You wanted to match what Ivy was getting. I gave it to you, and then some. So quit your bitching.”
This encounter was not going the way I had wanted. I wondered whether I should just leave. But maybe I could give one more try where I just talked about how I felt, without seeming to accuse him of anything.
“Well... um... I thought I would feel better to talk about it. The switch is so stiff. To have to take it on the breasts... you don’t know how that feels... so hard and fast. I couldn’t help feeling that you were mad at me to make it hurt that much. But I didn’t know. So I came to ask.”
The Skipper’s expression softened. “Oh. Well. You’re not the kind of person that I could really get angry at. Anyway, it seemed that you were really asking for it. So I gave it to you. To explore your limits.”
“Well you certainly reached my limits that time.”
“Reached... But I take it, did not exceed.”
“No, that was too much. I almost fainted.”
“But you like high intensity. Wasn’t it an experience? The pain and pleasure areas of the brain are right next to each other. That’s why you so easily mix the sensations.”
“Really?” After reflecting on that for several moments, I said, “Well, in a way, maybe I do sort of associate some positives with the strangeness of the experience. But still, that punishment was too much. ...And this whole scene is getting to be too much. Everyone is trying to make me submit to their perversions. Now Ivy’s acting like I should treat her like a mistress.”
The Skipper smiled and asked, “How does that feel to you?”
“Not right. I feel like all this stuff I’ve been letting happen means that I’m going to end up being some kind of subservient slave, and I don’t really want that. I don’t know why I’m submitting to all this stuff.”
“Who’s looking for a slave? I think of you and Rock being into sado-masochistic sex, not into dominance-submission lifestyle.”
“I’m not sure I understand the difference.”
“Well, I think of the one as just a sex thing, and the other carrying into other facets of the relationship. I think of Rock as wanting a strong and confident woman, an equal partner. But he certainly enjoys your appreciation of rough sex.”
“I suppose that’s intended to make me feel really good about myself. That I’m just a sex object that can take a lot of abuse. Well I don’t happen to agree with you. Rafiq was attracted to me before any of this punishment stuff started.”
“Ooh. Touchy about it, eh? Now let me guess what set you off. When I said ‘strong and confident’, you can’t help thinking it means Ivy, right? And when I say ‘rough sex’, then it means you. So you imagine I’m saying that Rock only likes you for SM sex.”
“Well... yes. Wasn’t that a reasonable interpretation?”
“That’s your little self-image problem to work through. But surely you recognize that you show lots of confidence in some spheres. And connect with Rafiq’s intellect in some ways that Ivy doesn’t.”
After a moment’s pause, he continued, “Anyway, what I was saying is that Rock’s not the kind of guy who’s interested in a 24/7 slave. He doesn’t try to control you or Ivy. And he likes to give, and for his partner to receive. But in a sexual context, pain is part of the mix that he likes to give.”
“Maybe.”
“Now for me, on the other hand, having a slave girl has a certain attraction. But I wouldn’t want all the baggage. I have enough trouble running my own life. Wouldn’t want responsibility for somebody else’s. ...Now a slave girl who wanted nothing more from life than to be a sex object, that would be something.”
When I frowned at him, he smiled and said, “Not something you want to aspire to?”
“Only in your imagination.”
“Anyway, you came in here to complain about having your tits whipped. But they really did need a good whipping.”
“That’s crazy. You hit too hard. If Rafiq hadn’t stopped you, I don’t know what would have happened. I might have died.”
“So dramatic.”
“Still, how can I trust you if you hurt me so much that Rafiq has to save me?”
The Skipper pondered that for a moment. “Well, don’t you feel good that Rock had an opportunity to rescue you?”
“Well, actually yes. But I’m sure Ivy noticed that Rafiq rescued me, but it was me, not Rafiq who had to rescue her. And that must piss her off.”
The Skipper was amused. Then he asked, “So how do they feel now?”
“What?”
“Your tits. How do your nipples feel after a good switching?”
“They’re still sore.”
“Then take two aspirin tonight and call on me in the morning. Good night, Jenny.”
“Good night, sir.”
***********
That night I had the strangest dream. I’m a little reluctant to reveal some of its outre particulars, but for completeness I will set forth all that I remember.
In the dream I was on a boat that was attacked and boarded by pirates. Dissatisfied because there was nothing on board of value, the pirate first mate said, “Let’s take the girl,” referring to me. The pirate second mate merely sneered his disapproval.
The first mate persisted, “Let’s see what’s under her shirt before we decide to pitch her overboard. The captain might want to use her.”
It was not clear who his captain was. But in any case, my life was in jeopardy. It all hinged on whether my body was satisfactory. So I had to lift my top and show myself to them. In the dream my body was weird. In terms of girl flesh, I might have been a bit flatter than in reality, so when I saw that, I worried that I had little value as a woman. But I had these super-puffy nipples that stuck way out like elongated baby-bottle nipples.
The sneering second mate said nothing and merely continued to sneer, but after feeling up my nipples the first mate decided that I was worth keeping. “If the captain doesn’t want her, then she can service the crew. If they don’t want her, then we can nail her on as a bowsprit.”
So with my breasts still exposed, I was hoisted over to the pirate ship. Strangely, although I was hoisted by the nipples, it wasn’t a problem for me because they were just these big rubbery baby bottle nipples with no feeling.
Still, as I was hoisted over to the pirate ship, I felt that I was leaving behind the life I had known. Once aboard, my fear increased when I saw what seemed once to have been a girl, but was now turned into what looked like a synthetic life-sized fuck doll. Only her eyes moved, the only remaining sign that she had once been a real person.
Nearly the entire crew of the pirate ship seemed to be young apprentices, no older than myself. I brought my top down to cover my breasts. But still, the way they gaped at me, it seemed that they had little acquaintance with real live females.
The first mate decided I would be useful for a sex education demonstration for these young guys. “Take off your blouse,” he said. I was so embarrassed to have to do this, but I felt I had no choice. So I lifted off my top, dropped it to the deck, and stood bare breasted before the assembled crowd.
“Clasp your elbows behind your back,” he then commanded. It would seem that this part of the dream reflected the posture the Skipper had ordered me to assume the previous day. Anyway, with my arms behind my back, he led me though the assembled crowd, where the young men then touch-tested my breasts.
It is hard to express the feelings I had. The humiliation of being stripped was more than balanced by a feeling that might be described as sacrificial sexual empowerment. In any case it was an erotic dream, in its weird way.
Anyway, after this the first mate ordered me to take off my shorts. I obeyed. Shorts at my feet I stood before the crowd with just my panties. I was praying that he wouldn’t strip me completely in front of everyone.
But of course the first mate ordered the panties off next. So down they came. Worse, he made me sit on a bench, my back against the bulkhead, and my feet up and wide apart on the bench, exposing me wide open.
Using a pointer rod, the first mate then proceeded to demonstrate my private parts to the assembled crowd, identifying for them what everything was. Outer and inner labia, clitoris, vagina, and anus. I don’t have a clear memory of it, but in the dream my clitoris might have been more prominent and penis-like than it should have been.
In any case I always did as I was told. I offered up my body, putting it at the disposal of others. Even now, the memory of how I felt stirs something inside my psyche.
The first mate let them use me like a toy, all of them taking turns frigging me. While some held my arms and legs wide apart, others pinched and prodded. All I could do is squirm. But they didn’t seem to care how I felt. They seemed to love it that I was responding, but whether it was negative or positive mattered little to them.
The first mate continued a running commentary about my reactions while they took their turns with me. Sometimes I could get a hand free to protect myself, but after a moment they held it back against the bulkhead and once more took advantage of my body.
This aspect of the dream, my legs held apart and guys taking liberties with my private area, went on interminably. I wanted to come off but couldn’t.
But some time later, or at some different point in my sleep cycle, things had changed. I was still in pirate captivity, but now they had put me to work, trudging in circles to turn this ponderous crank that propelled the boat.
I pushed one crossbar spoke to which I was chained. Pushing the opposite spoke was this Conan-like character, massively powerful. Round and round we trudged, slowly turning the crank.
Much of the crew had gathered around to watch. They threatened me with whips and belts and paddles and canes, but I have no recollection that they actually hit me. Rather they brushed their implements over my body as I passed them, especially harassing my breasts and butt, occasionally feeling with their hands too.
I was curious to watch the Conan-guy working opposite me. But he ignored me. Indeed, he paid little heed to anyone. When the first mate ordered us to speed up, he merely retorted “Fuck you,” sounding like Governor Schwarzenegger in some movie role in his previous career.
But I obeyed and pushed harder. The crank responded readily to my increased effort, although in retrospect, that does not make a whole lot of sense. Anyway, I was pleased that I had that much power over so massive a mechanism.
I don't remember much more about that aspect of the dream. But at a later point I remember the first mate leading me again through the crowd with their groping hands. He said he was taking me to sit in the captain’s chair and wait until he appeared.
Beyond the crowd at the far end of the deck I came upon a massive wooden chair, ornately carved, throne-like, and obviously the captain’s. But on the chair was something like a large strap-on dildo. In this weird dream, it seemed that all male organs were strap-ons.
I know that sounds weird, but in the dream it wasn’t unreasonable. It’s just the way things were in that alternative reality. But I do recall that within the dream I did feel some surprise at learning that guys could take their organs off and leave them around.
Well, the thing about the captain’s strap-on being left in his chair is that it was fastened sticking up. If I were to sit in the chair as ordered, it meant that I was to sit myself down onto the captain’s upthrust strap-on penis and have it enter me.
Of course I didn’t want to do that. I looked around for somewhere else to sit, but the first mate insisted, “That belongs to the Skipper, and you are to sit upon it.”
When he said “the Skipper” I recognized the identity of the captain, the unseen person behind the entire pirate operation. And I realized that I had no choice other than to mount his penis. Slowly I approached the chair. More slowly I got onto the chair. And even more slowly I lowered myself upon it.
As though thoroughly self-lubricated, so smooth did the shaft enter me. Slipping further and further in. Deep in. All the way.
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