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The captain’s voice rang out over the intercom, “Mistress Collette, please report to the bridge.” His voice was uneven and strained. I listened from the pool deck and with a nod towards Mistress Collette, I followed her from the activities and into the ship.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I was not privy, of course, to all that she knew and I wondered if this was one of those things.
Her shrug surprised me, “I don’t know.” Her face showed no concern only curiosity. She looked at me and laughed slightly, seeing the concern on my face, “don’t worry. There’s nothing I can’t handle.”
I nodded. I knew I was being silly, but the sound of the captain’s voice had sent goose pimples racing up my arms. I felt my mouth go dry; something did not feel right to me. Something felt out of place, eerie. I felt like I was walking alone in an empty cemetery with only a sliver of the moon to light my path. I knew, instinctively, that something was amiss. Collette was not worried, so I kept my concern hid as best I could.
We made our way to the bridge. The captain was seated in his chair, his face ashen. “Mistress,” he choked.
Now Collette’s face fell, “what’s wrong?”
Behind us, a falsetto, feminine voice rang out, “get off my ship!”
“I know that voice!” Collette said, suddenly sounding like a giddy school-girl. She turned towards the voice and shrieked in happiness, “Deborah!” She ran across the bridge and embraced the woman standing before her.
Deborah was a very short woman, less than five feet tall. She was very thin; she looked like a waif. Her hair was the color of golden hay and the light streaming in through the windows of the bridge made it seem almost translucent. She had small breasts and a thin waist; everything about her screamed small. Her golden hair was pulled back into a pony-tail. She could have been as old as forty or forty-five but she looked no more than twenty. She was a woman in a child’s body.
Deborah embraced Collette and said, “I heard you had a boat.”
Collette broke the embrace and said, “Yes. Let’s give you the V.I.P. tour.” She turned to me and said, “this is Dennis. He will see to anything you need. He does his job very well.” She emphasized the word ‘job’ and suddenly I got the impression that Collette and Deborah had shared the most intimate parts of their lives together.
“I’m sure he does,” she said as she gave Collette a conspiratorial wink.
Collette smiled, “I’ll have him show you anytime you are ready.” It sounded like she was bragging and I felt a stab of pride. It was wonderful for your ego to be discussed in such a way.
“Now, then.”
Collette nodded to Deborah and then to me.
I understood.
Deborah looked at me, “you do your job well,” she said and I wondered if she was mocking. The question, however, did not require a response and so I gave none. “Then let’s see. Do you know what I like?”
“No, ma’am,” I replied. My tone was neutral.
“Pain,” she said, “I like inflicting pain.”
I nodded.
“I am going to hurt you,” she continued, “and you will scream.” She emphasized the word will.
“As you wish, ma’am,” I said.
“Good. Fetch me a violet wand kit. We shall wait for you here.”
I hastened to obey.
I returned about five minutes later with the black plastic box that contained the violet wand kit that Deborah had requested. I handed it to her and she took it from me with cat-like grace. Her fingers were long and thin and had the look of one who could play the piano very well or type over one hundred words a minute. I was naked and so she did not require that I strip to have access to my exposed skin. She looked at me and said, “Drop onto your back and raise your balls to me, your hands and feet on the ground; kinda like a crab.”
I understood what she meant and obeyed. My cock and balls were available to what ever pain she wanted to administer. I knew, I would, scream.
Deborah opened the plastic case and assembled the violet wand with a link of fine chain. It was the chain that appeared on countless key chains around the world; thin and wiry with little metal balls making the links. She could have used it as a whip with current coursing through it; instead she did much worse. She tied the chain around my cock and balls and pulled it snug. “Don’t move,” she snickered. She plugged the wand into a nearby outlet and turned it on.
I jumped and twitched but kept my hands and feet planted. It felt like ants were biting my testicles and my skin crawled. My cock, already small from lack of excitement; I was not into pain, I simply accepted with pleasure all pain given to me by Mistress Collette and for Mistress Collette, shriveled even smaller like a frightened turtle sneaking into its shell. I winced and bucked and in time I did scream.
When I screamed Deborah turned off the violet wand. She was purring.
So was Mistress Collette. That made me smile.
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