Ship of Remorse - Page 36

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.

Tags: Chris Bellows Romance
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