Ship of Remorse

I was glad to see that they had lowered my legs before retiring. But I was still restrained spread eagled on the bed. The very molecules of the room air seemed to painfully collide with my overly sensitive nipples. They stung, the two insatiable lovers having sucked for hours and long after my breasts gave up their last drop of sustenance. My stomach growled, a sound and feeling to which I had become quite accustomed. I needed to urinate. But more, my neglected sex needed the attention of my fingers. I so much desired to pinch, knead and caress my labia and diddle my clitoris as I so often did as a young teenager.

After a while the need to empty my bladder began to exceed my need to toy with my sex. My quandary as to whether to break silence and awake the lesbian lovers by pleading for release turned to panic. It became apparent that the two were not going to awake before my urges forced me to soil the sheets, thus mandating that I lie in my own excretions.

And the thoughts of the subsequent punishment further panicked me. I had avoided many of the strokes of the

cane so casually meted out to the other girls of 3 stall, but I had received enough to know that such was to be avoided with vigor.

What punishment was worse? That for breaking silence or that for urinating on a guest’s bed.

Finally, with my consternation peaking, there was a soft knock on the door. Nurse Inga entered wearing her professional smile. She placed her finger to her lips to shush me. Within a minute, I was released from the bed, thumbs reattached to the yoke, and was stepping into the hallway. There Nurse Inga hooked on the annoying bell.

“You’re full,” she commented with a knowing smile as her fingers pressed against my lower abdomen.

“And sore,” she added as the same fingers moved up and toyed with my right nipple while she watched my reaction.

I gasped with the irritation of having the abraded nipple touched, even so lightly.

“Sometimes they like to nibble. Dottie and Lottie can be insatiable.”

Nurse Inga reached into her pocket and produced a small jar of ointment. She gently smeared a whitish cream on my nipples. It felt cool but alleviated the sting.

“Farmers use it on cows’ udders after extensive milking,” she explained. “It promotes the repair of the skin cells.”

We began our descent back into the bowels of the ship. With full bladder, I felt like I was hopping along, squeezing the very muscles, which the Kegel exercises had sought to strengthen. My moistened nipples were cooled by the air. Once again they turned to pencil points. I walked closely behind Nurse Inga, ironically hoping to soon be permitted to squat while she held open my lips with beaker in hand.

After traversing two flights, Nurse Inga led me down a hallway toward another stairway, which I knew to further descend into the hull. A door opened in front of us. Exiting his sleeping quarters and evidently on his way to breakfast was that most handsome blond sailor, the dispenser of candy and with it abject humiliation.

He looked past Nurse Inga to me. His eyes quickly shifted to my extremely reddened nipples. He seemed to realize that I had spent the night ‘entertaining guests’ as Ms. Adams would phrase my activities.

“Good morning Inga. I suppose it’s a little early to be offering candy.”

She smiled back, warmly. There was a twinkle in her eye. Perhaps he had been told to await the sound of my bell. I always suspected that all the seemingly chance encounters, in which the broad shouldered, flat stomached, bulging crouched sailor kept meeting the girls of 3 stall at a variety of different times and places, with candy in hand, was a setup. That somehow Nurse Inga arranged for the meetings, the intent being to spice up an otherwise dreary day of massaging, milking, washing, and dispensing enemas.

“Not now Josef. Alexi has to use the facilities. The poor girl has been restrained all night without relief.”

Josef feigned great concern watching me cross my legs and fidget as we paused. I could not keep the bell from making very light noises as my acute need made me tremble.

“I thought protocol mandated that you present yourself to the crew, Alexi. Instead you seem to be hiding your charms, naughty girl.

“Well if you want to spare yourself a caning and relieve your bladder, you may as well use my cabin. Nurse Inga can chaperone. Isn’t that correct Nurse Inga?”

I became more convinced of a setup as Nurse Inga nodded and thanked him on my behalf. We entered the open door.

Just as with the stateroom of Dottie and Lottie, it appeared that Josef’s large cabin had been expanded by removing the adjoining wall of one or two other cabins. It occurred to me that with the abundant size of the ship comfort for not only the guests but also the crew was more important than conserving space. Thus a cruise ship with an original capacity of some 1,000 passengers and crew had been converted to a vessel accommodating up to 144 ‘cowgirls’ and what appeared to be 200 to 300 passengers and crew.

With the luxury of space, it was no wonder that we seemed to endlessly cruise the warm climates without word of a destination. All on board, except for the ‘cowgirls’ of course, were happy just to engage in the perverse and sordid activities without need or desire to ever dock. Except, that is, to acquire new girls or off-load offspring.

My thoughts clouded as Josef went into his small ‘head’, as the bathroom was termed aboard ship, and returned with a old fashioned chamber pot.

Why would I ever think I would once again be permitted to use a normal toilet?

He placed it in the middle of the floor and I assumed the well-ingrained position of squatting over it to await Nurse Inga’s assisting fingers.

“No, no pet. On your knees. I will help.”

As I complied, Josef stood before me and guided my yoke. Since my thumbs were secured out to the sides, I could not rest on all fours. Instead, Josef held up my yoke as I found myself on my knees and bent forward at the waist. My face was pushed into the denim-covered zipper of his jeans. I could feel his growing manhood. Nurse Inga stood to the side. Her pleasant professional smile had turned to one of evil. Where was her assisting hand? My bladder was bursting.

Then Josef’s right foot cleverly moved forward and pushed the chamber pot back toward my ankles. It was no longer in a position to collect my excretions.