Seven Days on the Sea

When they escort Jane back to the cabin, she appears marginally improved. The mistresses had washed and dried her, tending to wounds with surprising care. Her once-smooth skin is now crimson from sunburn, marred by angry red welts. Yet, despite hours of torment, she radiates a haunting beauty as she kneels naked, head lowered in submission.

Arnold had just emerged from the shower. A towel, wrapped snugly around his waist.

"Please, sir, don't send me there. Don't give me to him. Not again."

He grasps her chin, gently but firmly lifting her head until their eyes meet. Her eyes are clouded with a profound weariness. For a moment, despite everything, compassion flickered in his gaze as he regarded the fragile girl whose spirit teetered on the brink of collapse.

“I wish I could terrify you as much as he can,” he murmured, a bitter edge underlying his words. “I’ve dragged you through hell and back countless times, and still you defy me. Tell me—what is it?”

“Please, sir,” she stammered, voice cracking with desperation. “You don’t understand… He is— p-please, sir— I’m begging you. I’ll be better. I’ll do anything.”

So, it doesn’t take long for the sadness to evolve to hunger. The towel drops with a swift flick of his fingers, revealing his hardening penis. She had hoped for a moment of respite, maybe even some rest. Defeated, she reaches and kisses the tip of his cock, then begins circling it with her tongue. He grabs her hair and pushes deep into her mouth. Fucking her mouth with deep hard strokes, and he soon erupts to the back of her throat. She nearly chokes on his cum—a hot flood gushing down her throat—but she swallows every drop, her body shaking from the effort. She knows better. She sucks and licks him clean.

Arnold's fingers dig into Jane's scalp, yanking her head back before he releases her abruptly. "What should we wear tonight, huh?" His voice is a low growl as he begins to rummage through her clothes, his hands rough and demanding against the fabrics.

He pulls out a scrap of black material, a dress that's more suggestion than garment. The skirt is a mere circle of fabric, designed to ride high on her hips, leaving nothing to the imagination. The bodice consists of two thin straps that crisscross over her breasts, meeting beneath her neck in a vain attempt at modesty.

"Put it on," he orders, tossing the dress onto the bed. Jane crawls towards it, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes never leaving Arnold's face. When he nods, she stands up, her body trembling slightly as she slips into the dress. The material clings to her skin like a second layer of flesh, accentuating every curve and contour.

Arnold hands her a pair of black leather stilettos, the heels towering at six inches. She teeters on them, her ankles wobbling precariously as she struggles to maintain her balance. The shoes force her calves into a constant state of tension, her thighs straining against the unnatural position.

He watches her with a cruel, knowing smile, his eyes raking over her body like a physical touch, lingering on every curve before he hands her the dreaded pink vibrator. Its power light blinks menacingly, mimicking the pulse of anticipation that throbs between her legs.

"One more edge," Arnold demands, cold and steely. Jane complies without hesitation, her body trembling as her fingers tentatively find their way beneath the skirt. With practiced precision, she teases herself, circling her clit until pleasure threatens to consume her completely. A much-needed release lingers tantalizingly just out of reach, as she desperately clings to the precipice, waiting for his permission to stop.

When he finally nods, Jane's hands tremble violently as she forces the egg-shaped device into her pussy. She threads its tail through her clit ring with agonizing slowness, her breath hitching as she struggles to hold back the orgasm that threatens to consume her.

Her legs quiver uncontrollably, muscles spasming as Arnold initiates a pattern of subtle vibrations. The sensation is exquisite torture, just enough to ignite every nerve ending in her body, setting her ablaze with a searing desire that radiates from her core. Her pussy clenches around the device, juices gushing out and coating her inner thighs, leaving a glistening trail down her right leg.

Arnold slips into a pair of crisp white cotton shorts and dons a short-sleeved cotton shirt. Once he is dressed, he gestures for Jane to follow him, and together they make their way to the deck outside.

They are greeted by an exquisitely set dinner table, situated beneath the vast expanse of the evening sky. The table is adorned with long, flowing white tablecloths that dance gently in the soft caress of the evening breeze.

Positioned at the very heart of this meticulously arranged tableau is Petrova, reclining in her chair with an air of nonchalance. She cradles a glass of chilled white wine in her slender fingers, condensation beading on the surface of the glass as she swirles the liquid within. Her gaze falls upon them as they approach, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

She lets out a long whistle. ”She looks stunning!”

Jane blushes involuntarily. It’s been a while since she last heard a compliment.

The woman invites Arnold to sit next to her. She is left standing at the end of the table. As he sits down, Arnold flicks his phone screen, and the vibrations in her pussy increase. Not too much, but unexpected, enough to cause her to buckle momentarily, letting out a sudden gasp of surprise.

The Sister is brought in by the mistresses promptly, having been meticulously prepared beforehand just like Jane. As she glides toward them, her long blond hair flows gracefully behind her, catching the light with every step. Her appearance is captivating, adorned in a stunning white lace corset intricately patterned with delicate designs. The corset is designed without traditional bra cups, supporting only the lower part of her breasts and accentuating their natural prominence.

One of them picks up a thick blue plastic hose hanging from the post just to the left of the dinner table. The hose’s surface is adorned with numerous cylindrical protrusions, resembling the writhing arms of an octopus. Every meter, small spherical cylinders are laid horizontally along it. Jane instinctively knows they are embedded bullet vibrators and suddenly understands that the Sister will be put through.

The mistresses then get the Sister to step over the hose before pulling it across the deck to another post roughly six meters away. As they pull it tight, the hose lodges between the Sister’s pussy lips, causing her to stand on her toes to alleviate the pressure on her pussy. Above them a thin steel rod runs between the posts, upon which one of the girls throws a doubled hemp rope and pulls the ends back to tie a square knot. Meanwhile, the other girl ties the Sister’s wrists behind her back using another piece of hemp rope. Then, she wraps a rope around her elbows, pushing them together.

The hanging rope is then pulled savagely through the wrist tie, causing the Sister to bend down in a vicious strappado. To finish the scene, clamps are attached to her nipples, with a chain running between them below the plastic hose, effectively locking the girl in her bent position through a combination of the strappado and the pull of the chain on her nipples. As one mistress does a final inspection of the ties, the other applies a lubricant across the length of the plastic rope.

Petrova picks a small device with a dial from the table and slowly turns the dial. All the bullet vibrators start their dance at once, sending ripples across the line. A deep moan rises from the Sister.

“Let’s begin the final punishment of the day!” Petrova exclaims. “My girl, you have to cross the length of the hose thirty-eight times as per the count, walking forward and backward. Remember, if you come, we’ll reset the count. You know the hose has five levels of intensity; we’ll start by the first level. At the end of each hour, we’ll raise the level by one. So you better hope you are done before the turn of the hour, or it’s truly going to be a long night for you.” She giggles and claps twice.

“Walk!” she orders, her voice suddenly losing all playfulness.

The young girl takes each step with agonizing caution, her entire body trembling from the relentless vibrations coursing along the line buried deep within her.

When she finally reaches the first egg, she inhales a deep, steadying breath and forces herself to continue. The vibrations intensify with each step, sending waves of pleasure and pain crashing through her body. Her nipples, clamped and stretched, throb in time with the pulsing vibrators. Sweat drips from her brow, mixing with the tears that stream down her cheeks as she cries out in desperation.

There are still five more bullets to pass on this initial trial. And then, she’ll have to walk backward and then forwards again. Again, and again. The vibrations pulse. Pulse. Pulse. Each beat a drum in her mind, a relentless rhythm that drowns out all other thoughts.

She’s destined to fail, of course, multiple times, forced to restart the harrowing ordeal. No matter how much effort she puts forth, she’ll find herself back at the beginning, squirming across the hose. She’ll moan and scream in desperation. She’ll cry and plead for mercy. Her sweat will flow in rivulets, mixing with her tears, as involuntary orgasms tear through her body. The hours will pass and the intensity of the vibrations will escalate to unbearable levels. It will take a seemingly endless amount of time for her to complete the trial, her body transforming into an instrument of pure agony, her pussy an organ of pain. But her legs will have already surrendered by then, making it nearly impossible to take even a single step. But they’ll push her onward. She’ll become something unrecognizable by the time she’s finished, no longer human, not even an animal.

Meanwhile, Jane will folllow the Sister’s ordeal, dread mixed with jealousy. For the first hour, Arnold keeps her standing on those torturous heels, squirming and panting, wishing it was her body the orgasms ripped through again and again. When Arnold finally lets her kneel, she has to eat the remaining scraps of food from the floor like a dog, swallowing them down with his cum and then Petrova’s. And when they finally lower the line and untie the rope that holds the Sister in a strappado, the Sister collapses to her knees, utterly spent. Jane watches as the girl's entire body trembles and twitches, even as she slips into unconsciousness.