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Chapter 7. Entering the Ring
After the Skipper left, I remained sitting on the floor of the galley. Still topless, I checked over my front, which was still feeling stingy from the whipping. In spite of how it felt, the visual evidence of whip marks was disappearing.
I guess it seemed a little anticlimactic to have nothing to show after such intense punishment. Not that I’m complaining – it upsets me to be badly marked up, as I had been after my run-in with that cat-o-nine-tails early in the voyage.
I didn’t especially want anyone to come by and see me without my shirt on. But at the moment I didn’t care enough to actually do something to prevent it – like either putting my shirt on or getting up and closing the door.
I heard footsteps approaching. It wasn’t heavy enough to be James, the only one I definitely did not want to see me topless. I looked to the doorway in anticipation.
It was April. “Hi,” she said. “Sounded like quite a session.”
“Uh... Well, yeah. I guess it was.”
“You don’t look the worse for wear.”
“I’m fine. But... What did it sound like?”
April sat on the floor next to me and said, “Like you were being swatted with something really loud, and then something not so loud.”
“Yeah, first a wooden paddle. Then a martinet whip.”
“Sounded like you were really into it.”
“April, I know you’re just shitting me again.”
She laughed and said, “Well sort of. At times it sounded pretty heavy. But you came off in the end, didn’t you?”
“How do you know that?”
“Well, weren’t you moaning with pleasure?”
“Were you right outside the door listening or something?”
“No, I wasn’t. You know how these walls are.”
“Well, he put that vibrator on me. It’s really gross. Eventually I couldn’t help coming off. I didn’t want to.”
“Of course not,” she teased, laughing. “So anyway, what all was he doing to you?”
“Well... You want to know everything? First he paddled me on the butt. Then he threatened to paddle me on the breasts.”
“Did you let him?”
“No. But he got me kneeling, back against the counter, wrists bound behind my head, put clips on my nipples, and then whipped me with a martinet. It was lightweight but real stingy. And it really hurt when he knocked the clips off.”
“And all this because you wouldn’t let him paddle your tits?”
“No. He was asking all these weird questions about, like, whether I wished I had bigger tits. He didn’t think I gave the right answer, so that’s when he whipped me really hard on the front and between the legs.”
“What a fucking asshole. He whipped you to try to make you say you wanted big tits? That prick. I ought to go give him a piece of my mind, right now.”
“Oh... But it wasn’t quite like that. I sort of said that I wouldn’t mind having bigger tits. And that’s why he whipped me. He said I already had a dream body.”
April looked at me in surprise. “I didn’t know you weren’t satisfied with yourself.”
I felt diminished in her eyes. “Well... It was only about going from an A to a B size.”
April said, “Oh. That’s no big deal. Probably everyone wouldn’t mind being a little different from what they are. I wouldn’t mind being thinner.”
“Yeah. Well, anyway, he also stuck that big dildo in me.”
“Was he rough with it?”
“No. He was real good with it. It wasn’t punishment. ...Then he put that vibrator on me. It’s really weird. The sensation is so... electric. But so stimulating...”
“James borrowed it and used it on me. I know what you’re talking about. It is strange.”
“Anyway, I did end up coming off. ...I’m sort of freaked out that I’m getting, like, acclimated to responding sexually to this kind of treatment. What if I end up unresponsive to normal tender contact?”
“Do you think that could happen?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that the climax is so intense.”
April put her arm around me. I responded in kind. She kissed me on the cheek, a prolonged kiss. Although I hugged her in return, I did not turn my head to meet my lips to hers.
In retrospect, I think I just wasn’t in the mood for a lot of affectionate contact. But at the time, I took it as evidence that I had become unresponsive to a gentle touch.
In the face of my lukewarm response, April did not persist. Loosening her embrace, she said, “Jenny, you’ve always been such a worrier.”
“I know. So many things to worry about. Now I’m worried about Rafiq and Ivy. I really don’t like her competing with me for his attention.”
“God, I hate being in the middle of this thing. You should never have come on to Rafiq in the first place the way you did. But I know I’ve told you that before, and what good is it now anyway. What’s done is done. You’ve made things so messy, I don’t know what you should do. I know you can’t just forget about Rafiq now.”
“No, I can’t. ...But what would you think about me going out there and hanging out with both of them now?”
“Maybe. ...Like, Rafiq with one arm around each of you. Is that the image?
“I guess.”
“And Ivy would come around when you think you have Rafiq to yourself? That’s okay too?”
“Hmm... I guess that would be the implication. I wonder what that would be like.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in that situation. ...And it’s not like Ivy’s your twin sister. You two squabble a lot.”
“Well, some. But it’s not that bad.” After a few moments, I withdrew my arm from around April, and said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do, but thanks for coming by to see how I was.” Actually, I knew exactly what I was going to do.
As soon as April got up and left, I too got up, intending to go check out Rafiq and Ivy. As I started to put my shirt back on, the option of remaining shirtless occurred to me. For me, that seems risque. But I pondered the pros and cons.
The pros... April and Ivy fairly often go topless – in the sun. So what if it’s after dark now, why shouldn’t I too? No need for me to hold on to my hang-ups. And with my build, I’m the least obtrusive female to go topless.
The cons... With my build... well, let’s not go there; after all, Rafiq and Skipper both think I look good. As for James and his insults, well screw him. Although I’d still feel uncomfortable going topless around him, he wasn’t even out there.
After the number of times I had been forced to strip in front of all the people on board, it might seem strange that I would have any reluctance to go topless. But being forced to strip just means you’re eager to get your clothes back on. And once back on, you’re just as reluctant as ever to take them off again.
Obviously, the reason for going out there topless was to get Rafiq’s attention. And since I had just been whipped, I had a good reason to be shirtless. But as I looked myself over, I was disappointed that I had so little marking to show for it. Well, this would have to do. Let’s hope Rafiq would still be sympathetic.
Nevertheless, I considered that this might be viewed as a transparent and pathetic ploy for getting attention, such that Rafiq might be grossed out with me. Well, whatever. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
I left my shirt on the counter in the galley and went out onto the deck. High in the sky, the waxing, three-quarter full moon illuminated everything. Rafiq and Ivy were nestled together at the helm. Although I had expected that, still my psyche winced at the sight.
I did not approach them. Instead, I went to the side and looked out onto the moon-lit sea. I didn’t have to wait long. Rafiq approached and asked, “Heyyy... Are you okay? We could hear you getting swatted in there.”
Turning toward Rafiq I said, “Yeah, first he paddled my butt. Then he whipped me on the front.” I rubbed my hands over my front, especially over my breasts.
Mesmerized, Rafiq never took his eyes off my body. Placing his hands on my hips, he held me for a moment, then glided his hands up the sides of my body, coming to rest at the sides of my breasts. His thumbs passed over my nipples. I put my hands on his shoulders, letting him have my breasts.
I sighed, “He whipped me with a martinet ...really hard on the breasts.” But from the breathy way it came out, I wasn’t sure whether it sounded more like an expression of contentment than of complaint.
Rafiq only murmured, “Ah,” conveying neither positive nor negative connotation. He continued feeling me up.
Meanwhile Ivy had also come over, her expression icy. She said, “I think you got off easy. He could have whipped your pussy too.”
Rafiq glanced at her, removed his hand from my right breast, put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. His other hand remained on my left breast, his thumb pressing my nipple deeply, stirring in circular motion.
I replied to Ivy, “The Skipper did whip me on the pussy. Really hard too.” I tried to sound aggrieved.
For a moment her expression turned even more acrid. Then she said, “After all that, you must be really horny now.” She touched my right breast, then took hold of my nipple, firmly, but not pinching hard enough to really hurt. She gave a slight twist and held, all the while watching my expression.
I looked at Rafiq, and said plaintively, “After all I’ve been through tonight, she wants to torture me more.”
Ivy pinched a little harder. I gasped loudly, exaggerating how much she was actually hurting me. But I offered no resistance, closing my eyes and thrusting my chest forward as if to let her do her worst, but in the process pressing myself into Rafiq.
Her hand pressed between Rafiq and me, Ivy now pinched really hard. I cried out, “Ow! She’s hurting me.”
“Ivy, let her go,” Rafiq declared.
I gasped loudly as she yanked hard before releasing my nipple. But well satisfied that he had intervened on my behalf, I hugged Rafiq as I said, “She wants to hurt my tits.”
“I was barely touching you, you phoney.”
“Oh shit,” said Rafiq. “Do you two have to start with all this stuff again?”
“I never started anything. The Skipper just gave me a terrible whipping. And when I finally get away from him, Ivy wants to hurt me even more.”
“You’re so full of shit, Jenny,” said Ivy. “You come traipsing around without your shirt on, trying to get attention...”
“I am not. The Skipper took my shirt away. He made me bare myself in front of him again. Then whipped me really hard, right where it would hurt the most. I thought he would never stop. When I came out here, I thought maybe I might get a little comfort. I’m sorry I disturbed you. Please don’t be mad at me.”
“Oh, what a sob story. The poor little girl has lost her shirt. Here, you can wear my top,” said Ivy, removing her bikini top.
Rafiq was smiling, probably delighted by having his arms around two bare-breasted girls.
“I don’t want your top. It wouldn’t fit right.”
“Jenny with no tits, you’re right, it wouldn’t fit.”
Looking up into Rafiq’s face as I continued hugging him, I said, “Listen to how mean she talks to me. What is it that I should deserve that?”
Although I really do value peace, I was not unhappy about the way the interactions were going. If Ivy wanted to be a bitch in front of Rafiq, let her. I might be able to play out enough rope for her to hang herself.
Rafiq said, “No tits? Ivy, that’s just... First of all, it’s obviously not accurate. And second, it’s obnoxious. ...But I realize you’re pissed at Jenny.”
“Well shouldn’t I be? We spend a little time together now and so Jenny has to come running out topless to try to grab your attention. ...And of course she succeeds.”
“Well, um...” said Rafiq.
“Do I do that when you and Jenny are together?” said Ivy.
Rafiq looked at Ivy soberly for a moment. Then he said, “Ivy, do you really want me to answer that question?”
A faint smile crossed Ivy’s face. “Oh. I didn’t realize you had noticed.”
Whoa! There had been stuff going on that I was not aware of. This had to mean that Rafiq had been captivated by Ivy’s nude sunbathing while I was with him. How could I have been so blind?
Rafiq glanced into my eyes. I’m sure my expression communicated that I was not happy. Looking pained, he said, “You know, I would’ve thought that loving two exceedingly beautiful women would be some kind of dream. Instead the whole thing is some kind of bummer. I care about both of you, but neither of you can accept that I have feelings for the other.”
When he said that, I felt that I had let him down. The effect of my competitiveness with Ivy was to make him unhappy ...and unhappy with me. Certainly I should be able to come to terms that Ivy’s well-being is important to him.
And yet in the back of my mind I had a sense that this triangle could not persist indefinitely. Although I could share Rafiq with Ivy for a while, ultimately this is not what I wanted. If Rafiq was the one who was meant for me, then I would have to become his one and only.
Ivy said, “Rafiq, how come when I happened to sunbathe topless, you didn’t come racing over like you just did for Jenny?”
“I just came over to ask Jenny if she was okay after her session with the Skipper. I didn’t go ‘racing’ over to her because she was topless. What do you take me for?”
“Rafiq, after all this time, don’t you think I know you?”
A guilty smile passed over his face and he replied, “Well, I admit I love tits, but still, Jenny just got whipped. Isn’t it natural to ask her if she’s okay?”
After several moments of silence, Ivy said, “I’m sorry I’m making a scene about this. I just get upset with both of you.”
“It’s my fault that I made you upset, Ivy,” I replied. I had to match her in conciliation.
“How about if I bring us some wine?” asked Ivy. As she separated from Rafiq’s embrace, I likewise separated from him, sensing it otherwise to be like stealing his affection.
As she when down the steps into the cabin, Rafiq and I contemplated the moonlit ocean silently. I was basking in the thought that a few moments previous, he had referred to me as an exceedingly beautiful woman. That Rafiq’s accolade was shared with Ivy is no problem, since Ivy is a dazzler, at least physically.
But almost as soon as Ivy disappeared below, she returned, stomping up the steps. “Is this the shirt you claim the Skipper stole from you?” She threw it at me.
Oh shit. I had left it on the galley counter. For a second my mind raced to come up with some explanation for my apparent deceit. Better not risk it. Better come clean.
“I’m really sorry. I just wanted some comfort after the Skipper got finished with me.” It’s so humiliating to be caught lying, my voice was tremulous.
Rafiq looked confused. “Am I missing something? Do people actually need an explanation for why they don’t wear a shirt?”
“Well, it makes it look like I was just trying to get your attention.”
“But I like giving you attention. Both of you. And what a sweet way to get my attention. I think both of you should keep your breasts bare at all times.” He pulled Ivy toward him, then caught me in his embrace. With his arm around my back, his hand squeezed my left breast. I glanced at Ivy. His other arm around her back, his fingers pressed into her opposite breast.
“Jenny’s too timid for that,” said Ivy. “The only time she takes her shirt off is when she’s desperate for a whipping.”
“I just had a whipping. I don’t want another one.”
“You must want another one. Why else would you come out here half naked.”
I looked at Rafiq. He smiled at me sympathetically, but said nothing.
Ivy continued, “I don’t think the Skipper whipped you hard enough. Where are your whip marks anyway?”
“He used this real stingy martinet. It hurt a lot but it didn’t leave many marks. So maybe...” I almost suggested that maybe Ivy was the one who should be whipped. But I wasn’t about cede Rafiq’s focus to Ivy. Instead, I said, “Maybe tomorrow. The Skipper thinks I should start having a daily whipping.”
“Is that what he said?” asked Rafiq. “What did you say to that?”
“Well, when he suggested it, I didn’t think much of the idea. But I don’t know. Maybe it depends on who’s holding the whip.”
Ivy said, “How about if I put the cane to your tits?”
Somehow I managed to resist jabbing back at her. Instead I said, “I’m sorry you’re so angry at me. I can’t help it that I’m so fond of Rafiq.”
“I’m being a real bitch, aren’t I?” asked Ivy as she looked at Rafiq.
“Well, I guess that’s one way to put it,” he answered.
“It’s only because she’s put herself between us. That’s why I get upset with her.”
“Well, why would I see either of you being between me and the other?” he said, standing with one arm around each of us.
Ivy replied, “Yes, Rafiq, but... the other thing is that she’s so manipulative. Jenny, you’re manipulative, setting me up to be the ogre and you’re the innocent victim and so holy about it.”
I knew she was close to the target. I said, “I don’t want to be at war with you. I don’t want Rafiq to have to be in the middle of it. So I’m trying not to give in to my natural feelings that you are in the way.”
“Oh, you’re so virtuous,” she said sarcastically.
“I’m not virtuous. I’m seeking my own happiness.”
Ivy sighed but said no more. All of us remained silent for some time. With an arm around my back, Rafiq was massaging my breast.
After a time, Ivy said, “I’m sorry I’ve been behaving so badly. You mean a lot to me.” Even though she was addressing Rafiq, she turned toward me and put her arm around me. I reciprocated and the three of us hugged.
***********
The next afternoon, while April and James were attending the boat, I was on deck chatting with Rafiq and Ivy. It was a hot day. I was wearing only my bikini. Ivy was topless, which made me a bit uncomfortable, since I felt some pressure to match her. But I kept my top on, in part because I was sitting where James could see me, and I was still galled by his insult about me needing a boob job.
Early in the conversation, Ivy again apologized for her behavior the previous night. She was going out of her way to be pleasant to me. I reciprocated. I can enjoy Ivy’s company; it’s only our situation, vying for Rafiq, that’s problematic.
Rafiq wanted a blow-by-blow account of my previous night’s session with the Skipper. I obliged with a detailed narrative. In a group I don’t naturally take to being the center of conversation, but it seemed that this was something that people really wanted to hear.
And I didn’t mind the sympathy they offered, however limited it was. Although he tried to respond appropriately, Rafiq couldn’t help getting carried away by the erotic essence of the experience, even though I downplayed the sexuality and only obliquely touched on the orgasmic culmination.
Ivy responded more sympathetically than did Rafiq. But underneath I’m sure she got some enjoyment out of hearing of my travails. Still, my sensible side felt it was only related to the circumstance of our competition, independent of how she would otherwise regard me as a person.
Intrigued and amused by my telling of the Skipper’s daily regimen suggestion, Rafiq asked, “This thing about a daily whipping, what is that kind of regimen supposed to do for you?”
I was willing to string him along with it. “Well, I don’t know. He said he thought it would keep me feeling at my peak, whatever that means.” I couldn’t help giggling when I said that.
“Like some kind of extra-vigorous massage therapy. Well, why not? I can see you getting into it.”
Ivy said, “Jenny takes to it naturally. Do you think I should consider it too? You could try it out with me.”
Eeyew. This was starting to sound really fucked up. Two women vying for a guy’s attention by seeing who can accept the most punishment. Sick. I said, “Oh, this daily regimen is only the kind of crazy thing the Skipper says to tease me. He wasn’t serious about it.”
The Skipper was coming up the steps from the cabin as I said that. He approached us.
Rafiq addressed him, “Hey Doc, I hear you’re considering a special health regimen for the girls.”
“What? ...Oh yes. It’s my recommendation for keeping Jenny at her peak. I hope I didn’t just hear her say I wasn’t serious.”
Everybody looked at me, even April and James. I said, “Well, I guess it was me that didn’t seriously consider it.”
The Skipper answered, “No big decision. Take it one day at a time. But you’re looking pert today. I can tell you’re up for it.”
Everybody awaited my answer. I glanced at Rafiq. He had a twinkle in his eye. I wasn’t sure what to say. But it was Ivy who spoke up, “I can give it a try.”
Well... That took the pressure off me. All attention was now on Ivy. But there was no question that I had to match her. But should I do it simultaneously or sequentially? Subsequent to Ivy would seem best, unless her bout got so hot that nobody had any energy left for me. But indecision meant I would wait. So be it.
Skipper seemed surprised by Ivy’s offer but said, “Sure, it would do you a world of good. Let me go get my implements.” The Skipper disappeared below.
Returning with belt-strap, cane, switch, single-thong whip, and martinet, he said, “Before you people brought up the subject of the daily whipping regimen, what had actually occurred to me for an afternoon activity was a wrestling match between the girls. Wouldn’t that be cute?”
“Yes! Do it,” called out James from the helm.
The Skipper continued, “But since Ivy’s up for a vigorous whipping now, I’m thinking we could test the efficacy of the health regimen. My guess is that after a good whipping, Ivy will win against Jenny, then win against April.”
“Whoa, wait a minute,” said Rafiq. “The basic idea is great, but I don’t think I can go for a match between Ivy and Jenny. That’s just asking for more trouble.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought about that. ...Maybe the way to do it is to have Jenny and April wrestle. If April wins, she wrestles Ivy. And we bet that a good whipping beforehand will invigorate Ivy so that she wins that match.”
“And for this to work out, I’m supposed to make sure I lose to April. Is that right?” I asked. I didn’t actually care what my role was; I just wanted to know what he wanted.
“No, that’s not right. I’ll really give you a whipping if you don’t try as hard as you can. Understand?”
“Okay. Whatever. Sorry I said anything.”
“So, are you girls up for it?”
The three of us looked at each other. After some hesitation, Ivy nodded. April shrugged. I was not going object. So without any great enthusiasm, the three of us assented.
“Now, for the rules,” said the Skipper.
“I suggest they get points for stripping their opponent,” said Rafiq.
“And face sitting,” said James.
Concerned, I looked at April. But she looked amused. April is big enough that I didn’t much like the idea of her sitting on my face, but I kept quiet.
“And for getting a finger in an orifice?” asked Rafiq, seemingly to me.
“This is starting to sound really unpleasant,” I said.
Ivy said, “Maybe it’s okay if we’re all gentle. We all agree not to do anything stupid or mean to try to win? I personally don’t give a shit who wins.”
“You better give a shit,” said the Skipper. “Because the loser’s in for a hell of whipping, especially if I think you’re not trying.”
“Now wait a minute,” I said. “I’m not agreeing to any kind of hellacious whipping. None of us are going to agree to that, I hope.”
“Oh, take it easy. Don’t take my words so literally. A good whipping, yes, but nothing you can’t handle. You know I don’t whip you that bad, even though you’re the one that needs it the most.”
“I need it the most? Why me? Ivy’s the one who volunteered for your whipping regimen.”
“Come on. You know you need it too,” said the Skipper.
Putting his arm around me, Rafiq said, “Everything will be cool. Just be gentle with your opponent and everybody will come out happy.”
I’m sure I didn’t look too pleased about it, but I acquiesced to the idea I’d probably get a face full of April’s crotch, get finger fucked, and in the end still get whipped for my troubles.
“Okay, let’s spread the mattress pads so the deck isn’t so hard,” said the Skipper.
Rafiq, Ivy, April, and I went below and brought up four of the foam mattress pads, and placed them together on the deck.
“Okay,” said the Skipper. “April and Jenny face off, on your knees so nobody gets hurt. Us guys will be the judges and will offer encouragement to the combatants.”
So April and I faced off, with the guys crowding around. I asked her, “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Of course not. All I know is from watching some stupid professional wrestling for a few minutes on TV once or twice.”
“That’s good. Because I certainly don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Just be sure you don’t tear my swimsuit.”
“Right,” I agreed. “I bought this one special for this trip, for more than I should have spent, and I’ll be really upset if it gets wrecked.”
Rafiq said, “We’ll assist in getting the swimsuits off without tearing them. You don’t have to worry.”
“What? You guys are going to strip us while we’re wrestling?”
“No,” replied Rafiq. “But once your opponent has exposed you, then we’ll help get it off so nothing gets torn. So go to it. The match has begun.”
To Rafiq and James, the Skipper said, “Here, take your pick of encouragement devices.”
Appalled, I watched Rafiq take the switch and James take the martinet. The Skipper set aside the cane and whip but held on to the strap.
“They’re going to swat us,” I said.
“So we better get this over quickly,” April replied, grabbing me. I fell into her, gave a tug at her bikini top, and popped one of her big boobs into view.
“Jenny scores one,” said Rafiq.
April tried to pull up my top but I held it down. Maybe my smaller build gave me an advantage of a snug fit.
Giving her a bear hug to prevent her from exposing my front, I undid the tie to her bikini top in the back. She retaliated by spanking my butt, both of us laughing and squealing.
“Come on, April,” said James, as he pulled her bikini top away. “You can easily take her. Pull her bottom down.”
April responded by exposing my rear end. But I kept hugging her tightly, my crotch pressed against her thigh.
To me, having my rear end exposed was not equivalent to having lost my swimsuit bottom, but apparently it was good enough for Rafiq, who began pulling it all the way down. When I complained and tried to resist, the Skipper gave me a couple hard swats on the butt with his strap.
Being on my knees, my swimsuit bottom wasn’t coming all the way off without my cooperation. Whap! Whap! Whap! Three more stinging strap strokes across the rear assured that I did not withhold that cooperation.
April topless, and me now bottomless, we continued with ineffectual pushing and tugging at each other.
“This is lame,” said James. “We need to get these girls going.” He set aside the martinet and took up the long whip, which he proceeded to lash across April’s back. The wraparound stung me on the side. April yelped. I gasped.
Another stroke, then another. Both wrapped around and must have stung me every bit as hard as they stung April. But the effect on April was rather opposite of what he intended. Rather than spurring her to action against me, she seemed paralyzed, crying out with each stroke, and cringing between strokes.
Remaining locked in a tight embrace, yelping and gasping, April and I writhed and wriggled against each other as we recoiled from each stroke, which James laid across the back, butt, or thighs. April pulled my top up enough to bare my breasts as I pressed against her. I liked that feeling.
It was a curious juxtaposition of sensations. The warmth of April’s tight embrace. The sound of the whip. The motion of her body flinching with each stroke. The sting on my own body. It was such a stimulating experience to share. My crotch pressed to her thigh.
After about thirty strokes, James left off. Still I clasped her tightly, pressing my body against her, even as she loosened her embrace with me.
I heard Rafiq murmur, “You can see what Jenny wants.”
I glanced warily at him and the Skipper. But both were beaming at me. I felt reassured. People knew what I liked and it was all right.
But James was impatient. “What do we have to do to get these girls to fight? April doesn’t do anything.”
Skipper replied, “April, if you don’t force Jenny down right now, we’re going to separate you two, and James will put the whip to your breasts.”
April immediately responded by pushing me hard sideways, saying, “You’re the one who likes to get it on the tits, not me.”
“I do not,” I replied, extending my leg sideways to give me leverage to resist.
Whap! “Ow! Shit, that hurt!” I cried. The Skipper had hit me really hard on the pussy with the strap. I closed my legs and crumpled, letting April throw me to the mat.
With me on my back, she fell across my body and immediately shifted toward a 69 position. Knees up and together, I kept her from getting at my crotch. But she parked her crotch right over my face.
James pulled the crotch of her swimsuit aside, and her bare pussy ended up opposite my mouth. Because my arms were pinned, the most I could do was attack her with my tongue. Giggling all the while, she pressed her pussy onto my mouth.
Then Rafiq and the Skipper pulled my knees apart, allowing April to get at my crotch. After lubricating her finger in her mouth, she starting slipping it into my tunnel. There was little I could do to resist.
“Ooh. You bitch,” I complained. At least April keeps her nails short. Better than having Ivy scraping her long nails up there.
With an effort I managed to free my hand from under her leg and squeeze her breast. Then I gave her nipple a hard pinch. She retaliated by roughly frigging my pussy. With her finger inside me, she had the upper hand. I eased up on her nipple, begging “Ow, ow, ow. Don’t hurt me.”
Although she stopped being rough, she kept that finger up in there, gently frigging me. I felt humiliated that the guys had ganged up to hold my legs open so that she could violate me like this. I lay there helpless just wishing this would end.
“Come on, Jenny. Do something,” said Rafiq. And then he hit me with the switch on the inside of the thigh. The Skipper followed suit by hitting me on the inside of the other thigh with the strap.
“Ow... Ooh... Oh, please,” I cried as they laid on one stroke after another.
I had to do something. Struggling to get my arm up, I was able to get near April’s crotch. Her pussy was not quite in range, so I went for the orifice that I could reach. I pressed my finger to her asshole. With a squeal, April rolled off me, extracting her finger from me. I immediately rolled over on my stomach and adjusted my swimsuit top to cover my breasts. I’d been face-sat and finger fucked. Was there any need to continue?
There was a gentle touch on my cheek. “Heyyy... Good job,” murmured Rafiq. He stroked my back.
I smiled up at him. Right now there was nothing I could want more than some gentle attention from Rafiq. He eased me to a sitting position. “Is the match over?” I asked. I felt I had adequately acquitted myself, while appropriately taking the role of loser.
“No,” said the Skipper. “This is still indecisive. Jenny hasn’t even been stripped.”
“I pulled her top up,” said April. “You guys are supposed to take it off her.”
Calmly looking Rafiq in the eye, I raised my hands over my head, surrendering my body to him, expecting to charm him irresistibly.
Rafiq placed his hands on my sides, and slowly caressed upwards to meet my bikini top. Well satisfied, I closed my eyes. He gently lifted my top up, exposing my breasts to him, and raised it slowly over my head. I resisted stealing a glance toward Ivy. I knew she would not be pleased.
It was not yet off my arms when the Skipper said, “Hey, this looks good. We gotta teach these girls some wrestling holds. Let’s have them practice a full nelson. April, get behind Jenny and we’ll show you how to do it.”
With April and me on our knees, he had her immobilize me from behind, with my arms locked overhead, her hold levered behind my neck. “Okay, Jenny. Now try to get out,” he said.
I wriggled a little, but it was obvious that I wasn’t going anywhere. I looked at Rafiq. His eyes were glued to my breasts.
“You’re not trying hard enough, Jenny,” said the Skipper. He lashed the martinet hard across my breasts. I gasped. He lashed me again. Then again and again. I writhed and squirmed, but I couldn’t get out of the hold and I couldn’t avoid the whip strokes.
“Hold her good, April,” said James, and he lashed the long whip across her back, wrapping it around so that it caught my front. He kept at so that I was getting whipped in double time, the Skipper’s martinet stroke directly on the breasts, followed by James wraparound whip stroke to the ribs or stomach.
“April, let me go. Oh-my-god, they’re whipping me so hard.”
“Hold her tight April,” said James. “Unless you want what she’s getting.”
“I don’t dare let you go, Jenny,” said April. “I’m already getting it almost as bad as you.”
I said nothing more, but I knew I was getting it a lot worse than her. Besides having the Skipper scoring my breasts with the martinet, the wraparound end of James’ long whip goes faster and hits harder than what she was getting. And I was getting it all on the front. ...But still, from the way she cried out with each stroke, it seemed that she was taking as much she could bear, as was I, although I was not quite so loud about it.
As the two guys continued whipping me, Rafiq disappeared below. Had he abandoned me? The Skipper paused to feel my breasts, saying, “Those titties really need the whip.”
James too paused. Then he took hold of my stiff nipples and pinching hard, shook my breasts. I was shocked; he had no right to touch me. He had already abused me with his words, and now with his hands.
He said to the Skipper, “Do you think whipping tits makes them grow bigger?”
“No, you dumb asshole,” replied the Skipper. “It makes them prettier. ...And get your hands off her.”
James did not immediately respond, but with the sound of Rafiq bounding back up the steps, he released my nipples and stepped away.
“Here, this should inspire Jenny,” said Rafiq, holding the butterfly vibrator.
“Great idea,” said the Skipper. “See if we can energize her.”
So Rafiq held the buzzing vibrator to my clit, and at the same time began teasing my breasts with the switch, bumping it over my stiff nipples. I squirmed. I didn’t want to be made to climax exposed like this.
The erotic sensations were mixed with the flashback of the last switching I got on the breasts – when Ivy put it to my nipples so harshly that I had fainted. Rafiq wouldn’t do that to me, would he?
Sswit! On the chest just above the nipples. I gasped. ...Sswit! A hard stroke on the lower part of my breasts. “Ow. That hurts.” ...Sswit! Just below the nipples. ...Sswit! Right across the nipples. “Oooooh! Not there!” ...Sswit! Again!
I jerked back and forth, trying to get free. Sswit! “Ow, ow, ow. My tits. My tits.” ...Sswit! Yet again on the nipples. ...Then again. “Oooooh! Not on the tits.” And then several more times again. My nipples were on fire. ...Sswit! Sswit! Sswit! “Ahhhhhh! Please no more. I give up. April. I can’t take any more!”
April relaxed her hold just enough for me to slip downward out of it. I collapsed to the mat, lying on my side, gasping and holding my breasts.
“The winner,” announced James raising April hand over her head. With her other hand she had to fend off his pawing at her bared breasts.
Meanwhile, murmuring “Beautiful, beautiful,” Rafiq knelt over me, comforting me. On the one hand, I was grateful for his solicitude. On the other hand, I was freaked out that he had whipped my breasts so hard.
After a time, when I had recovered my breath, he said, “You were so awesome. A little more practice and you could be a professional wrestler. Of course for a woman it’s much sexier to lose than to win.”
“Oh gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically. “And I suppose you would be my manager. And after losing, you would punish me right out in front of everyone.”
“Great idea. Before the fight, I could lead you to the ring in bondage, then release you. After you lose the match, I’d give you a good whipping out there. Then I’d lead you away, wrists bound behind your back and your well-whipped breasts bared. You’d be such a crowd pleaser.”
“You are a crazy pervert. ...That really hurt, what you did to my breasts with the switch.”
“Oh...” murmured Rafiq. “But you took it like a heroine.” He had me roll onto my back, and on all fours over me, he gazed into my eyes appreciatively. I ran my fingers over his furry chest. Then he kissed my breasts. I brought my hands above my head, and arching my back, surrendered myself to him.
He began sucking my nipple. Mmm. I love that. I wrapped my legs around him, pressing my bare crotch against his body. Yet I felt uneasy doing such a thing in public. We might be making a spectacle.
“When you two get done fornicating, we have another match to do,” said the Skipper.
“We’re not fornicating,” I said, unwrapping my legs from around Rafiq, and pushing his face away from my breast. Rafiq, remained on all fours over me for several moments, but finally sat up and allowed me to rise. As we got up, he adjusted the big bulge under his shorts.
“Where’s my swimsuit?” I asked.
Picking up the top and bottom, the Skipper said, “What do you need your swimsuit for? You’re fine as you are.”
“I’m not comfortable like this.” For emphasis, I covered my breasts and crotch with my hands. I had been exposed enough for one day.
Passing his hands along the inside surfaces of my bikini top and bottom, the Skipper said, “Your tits and pussy have been in here. That makes them special. I’m going hold on to them for a while.” He put the crotch of my swimsuit bottom to his face.
“You’re an even bigger pervert than Rafiq,” I said, knowing the Skipper would take that as a high compliment. “But if you really can’t give it up, I’ll go put something else on.”
“No, no,” he replied. “Wear your swimsuit. It’s much nicer than anything else you have.” More revealing is obviously what he meant by ‘nicer’.
He handed me the bottom, and I put it on. When I looked to him for the top he said to me quietly, “Don’t bother with your top. Ivy’s not wearing hers, so obviously you’re better off without it. You look very natural without it.”
I looked at Rafiq. He smiled and nodded affirmation. I glanced toward James, but he was paying no attention to me. ...All right. I would go topless for now.
“Okay, it’s time to prepare Ivy for her match with April,” said the Skipper. “Are you ready to be fortified? Come on over here and we’ll turn you into the woman of steel.”
With some hesitation, Ivy approached. The Skipper had taken up the cane. Ivy eyed it with obvious apprehension. “How many strokes do you intend to give me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Enough to energize you. Now bend over and take your medicine. Legs wide apart.”
I’ll admit being tickled that Ivy was going to have to take it bending over. More humiliating. And maybe I feel that I’m the only one who should take it facing my disciplinarian.
Anyway, after some hesitation, she bent over. Her bikini bottom being skimpy – a lot skimpier than mine – her suntanned buns were fully exposed to the cane. The Skipper touched the cane to her, tapping it up and down her butt.
Then he slowly drew it back. Whoosh-thack! With a loud gasp, Ivy instantly straightened up, rubbing her buns. She glanced around at us, then bent over again without saying anything.
Whoosh-thack! This time she voiced her pain but stayed bent over. ...Whoosh-thack! ...And then again. Whoosh-thack! ...Then one to the back of the thighs. Whoosh-thack! “Ow! Fuck!” Straightening up and turning to Rafiq, she said, “He’s hitting me too hard.”
The Skipper replied, “For a lusty girl like you? I’m surprised. But Rafiq can administer it if you’d rather. Or we can have Jenny accept a few of the strokes you were supposed to get. She still needs some punishment for losing.”
Ivy glanced at me with annoyance and said, “I want Rafiq to do it. Jenny can’t take any more now.”
Despite the words, I was pretty sure she was more concerned about keeping me away from center stage than of sparing me another whipping. Whatever. I had no wish to share a caning. But it sounded as if the Skipper thought I had more coming. That was not a welcome prospect, considering how much I had already taken.
So Rafiq took up the cane from the Skipper. Ivy bent over again, legs wide apart, holding her ankles. Rafiq tapped the cane to her butt, then slid it down her legs, then back up and across her back. Then he started teasing her front with it.
Ivy came up a bit, holding her calves instead of her ankles. Rafiq started tapping the cane on her breasts. Watching them jiggle, I couldn’t help glancing down at my own, but I tried to avoid comparing myself.
After harassing her breasts with the cane, Rafiq returned the cane to her butt, tracing back and forth on it. Preliminaries completed, Rafiq finally swatted her. Ivy voiced an “Ahhhh” that sounded like satisfaction.
Rafiq proceeded to give her a caning. Stroke after hard stroke, he scored her bottom, marking it with horizontal stripes. Early on she straightened a couple times and danced around in pain. But after that she pretty much stayed bent over, but still she let us know what she was feeling.
Witnessing Rafiq give Ivy a caning was a good bit different than being on the receiving end of the sting. Although I liked watching the vigor with which Rafiq approached the task, it is the sound that has more power. The whoosh as the cane slices air. Thack as it strikes flesh. Ivy’s gasping yelp. Power. Energy. Emotion.
As much as I would like to find Ivy wanting, I couldn’t help admiring her courage and stamina. Yet while one part of me reveled in Ivy’s caning, another part of me abhorred it. I felt responsible for fostering this environment where the females were continually being punished by the males. It would not be Ivy’s natural inclination to submit to this kind of treatment if she weren’t in competition with me.
Thus I couldn’t help feeling that my constant acquiescence to corporal punishment was creating parallel difficulties for Ivy and April. Furthermore, it was fostering unwholesome attitudes and appetites in Rafiq, the Skipper, and James.
If only I would just stand up for myself and refuse to accept this kind of treatment. That shouldn’t be so hard to do. Yet some part of me seems to crave the energy the guys pour into it. And somehow people seem to recognize that.
Such were my thoughts as Rafiq whipped Ivy’s rear end with the cane, one hard stroke after another. Finally with Ivy near tears, her butt well marked with stripes, Rafiq finally left off. “There you go. All ready for your match with April.”
Ivy straightened up slowly, rubbing her rear end. “Oh fuck, that hurts. I don’t feel ready for anything.”
Giving her a hug, Rafiq said, “Of course you need a little time to get yourself together. ...God, you’re tough. The way you took your caning was awesome.” He kissed her tenderly.
“Like a true heroine,” added the Skipper.
Ooh! I was wincing. Ivy soaking up Rafiq’s affection, and everyone’s praise. And I thought the term heroine was reserved for me.
The Skipper glanced in my direction. Whatever my expression was telling him, he held his gaze on me. Then he said, “Before we start the next match, it’s time to outfit Jenny. She’s not used to being a mere spectator. We don’t want her to be bored.” Then stepping behind me, he said, “Cross your arms behind your back and clasp your elbows.”
I did as he instructed. He then bound my arms behind my back with a rope. All eyes were on me again, even Rafiq’s, as he continued to caress Ivy.
Standing behind me, murmuring “Good girl,” the Skipper stroked my shoulders and upper arms. Then he passed his hands over my breasts, first gently caressing, then more vigorously squeezing their softness, then pinching and prodding my stiff nipples.
Over my shoulder, his face next to mine, I looked back at him, biting my lip and wincing, trying to endure the increasing vigor with which he worked my nipples. My forearms not so tightly bound that I could not have freed my arms to protect myself, but I forced myself to continue clasping my elbows behind my back. But finally when I thought I could take no more, he eased up. I exhaled.
“Now you can wear the nipple clips. Last night you were telling me it was your favorite ornamentation.”
“I did not. I said they hurt.”
“And that’s what you like,” he said, setting a clip to my left nipple and slowly letting it pinch on. I held my breath, grimacing, as it bit in with electrifying intensity. Then he pinched the other onto my right nipple.
“Now that Jenny’s happy, let’s get this match started. Ivy and April, onto the mats.”
As Ivy and April knelt facing each other, both topless, I forced myself to breathe. Could I accept, even embrace the sensation of those diminutive metal jaws biting into my nipples? Not wishing them off, just letting them be. Not labeling it as pain.
Meanwhile Ivy and April started grappling with each other. Ivy’s efforts seemed restrained and ineffectual. Soon she was lying prone with April on her back. With encouragement and guidance from James, April managed to get Ivy into a full nelson and roll her front side up, April underneath her.
Here was a golden opportunity to whip her on the front, and Rafiq and the Skipper didn’t pass it up. Stroke after stroke they whipped her belly, ribs, and breasts, Rafiq with the martinet, the Skipper with the switch. And James was lashing the single-thong whip across both of their legs.
Rafiq said, “The experiment isn’t working according to theory.”
The Skipper replied, “The theory is right. The girls are screwing up the experiment. We gotta whip them more.”
Laughing, Rafiq said, “All purpose remedy.”
As they continued swatting her, Ivy yelped with each stroke. Finally it was becoming clear that she had enough. ...Whap! “Ow! Shit. You win.” ...Sswit! “Oooh! Fuck! Stop.” ...Whap! “Ow! Assholes, I give up.”
The Skipper blared, “Come on, Ivy, break out of that hold.”
James was calling out, “Hold her, April. Hold her good.”
So Ivy’s whipping continued, stroke after hard stroke, Ivy screeching all the while. Why wouldn’t April release her? Oh-my-god, now James took up the cane and whacked it really hard right onto Ivy’s pussy. Even not bare, that must have really hurt. ...Then he did it again. This had to stop!
Freeing my loosely bound arms from the rope, I thrust forward to intervene. Plunging into the midst, I shielded Ivy from their whipping, taking the force of their stokes on my arms and on my back.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” snarled the Skipper. Grabbing my wrist, he twisted me around and flayed me on the side of the breast with the switch.
I let out a screech. To protect my front I tried to fall onto Ivy and April, now finally separating from each other. In the struggle, I somehow let the Skipper grasp both my wrists with his left hand, and he managed turn me and raise my arms just enough that he could thrash my breasts.
He rained the switch down on me. It must have been close to twenty strokes in rapid succession. With the first few strokes he whacked the clips off of my nipples. “EEEEEEE!” I let out a scream, and then continued screaming as he scored my nipples stroke after furious stroke. “EEEEEEE!” It was an inferno of pain. I thought I was going to faint.
“Lay off! You’re really hurting her, you bastard,” yelled Rafiq, seizing the Skipper’s hand.
As the Skipper released me, I dropped to the mat, sitting on my heels, clutching my breasts, panting, trying not to lose consciousness as the tsunami of pain crested. Engulfed in a dizzy hyper dysreality, my mind was just trying to gage what was happening to me. Yet it seemed that I had not been physically damaged ...I held hope that this trial would pass.
Meanwhile another bizarre scene was registering before my eyes. Getting to her feet, Ivy was irate at the way the guys had treated her. “Fucking assholes! You’re too god-damn rough.” Turning to Rafiq, she gave him a hard slap on the face. Rafiq looked startled and took a step back from her.
Turning her ire to James, she yelled, “Bastard! Gimme that cane. I’m going to show you how it feels.” James backed away from her, not yielding the cane. She kicked at him, though not hard with her bare feet. “Then here,” she said, and raked her nails over his forearm, leaving a series of red lines.
“Ow,” he said, rubbing his arm. “Awright, I get the message. Sorry. I didn’t know...”
Satisfied with James, Ivy looked at the Skipper. Looking as surprised and alarmed as anyone, he was positioned behind Rafiq. Ivy glared at him for a moment, then turned away and descended the steps into the cabin.
Nobody said anything. The guys didn’t even move. The stinging pain of my breasts having slackened enough that I no longer felt immobilized, I looked at April. Quietly she said to me, “I’m going in. Are you coming?”
Rising unsteadily, I followed her down into the girls’ compartment.
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