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So I performed rather than nurtured. And as I watched the bowls distributed to the various tables and placed under pairs of suspended nipples, I realized that tonight I would likely learn to perform for others. That my offering, so happily given to Dr. Helga or Nurse Inga, would now be offered to all aboard ‘The Scarlet Letter’.
My thoughts were diverted as two young girls approached. They were diminutive, almost identical in height and weight and initially I thought they were twins. But when they stopped in front of me, I realized that the impression was caused by their attire. Both wore what appeared to be togas of simple white cotton, and though their hair was styled identically, jaw-length with bangs, their pleasant but dissimilar facial features told me they were not related.
“Good evening, Alexi. We’ve enjoyed watching your tapes.”
The girl was smiling politely. As she spoke I noticed the top of her head was barely over the level of my yoke.
I flushed with embarrassment. As written, I knew of the video cameras, but having the subject matter broached as I stood with my naked breasts thrusting forth, inviting both examination and touch, was overwhelming.
“Spread for the ladies, Alexi, they’ll want to inspect you.”
Nurse Katrina pinched my buttock. I obeyed. My bell clanged with my reaction.
For the next minute, one pair of small hands worked between my thighs, parting my labia and inserting two then three fingers. The other pair caressed my aching breasts, carefully avoiding any action, which would cause my nipples to leak.
Meanwhile, Ms. Adams spoke again in the middle of the room.
“Those wishing to enter tonight’s contest, make sure you have a bowl and someone is timing your efforts. As always, there are prizes for speed and overall quantity.”
A contest! My head began to spin thinking of all the girls being simultaneously milked. Meanwhile the small hands were moving both inside me and out.
“She’s amazingly wet,” commented the girl exploring my love nest.
“And the full breasts are at just the right height,” countered the other palming my glands.
They turned to each other, smiled then looked a
t Nurse Katrina.
“Charge our account,” they instructed in unison as each girl reached up and took one end of my yoke.
“No contest for us. Maybe next week. We’re taking her to our room.”
The notion that I could be purchased like a department store item was disconcerting. But as I was led from the lounge, I looked back to see an older gentleman examining Maria. The gleam in his eye and his wicked smile made me feel ironically grateful for being taken away by the two small girls, for Maria was bending well over at the waist and I could see that all her charms were exposed to the gaze of the old lecher whose wrinkled hands were parting her cheeks. When her breasts fully unfolded and her nipples began brushing the soft carpet, he laughed evilly.
Chapter Twelve
Being led about the ship by the two small girls did indeed make me feel somewhat like a bovine. I did not ‘moo’ but the rhythmical clanging with each of my steps, my full breasts and my mandated silence caused me to ruminate uncontrollably.
The feelings of arousal caused by the exhibition of my nudity and of being controlled by the two girls mixed with the dull ache of my mammary glands and the slow growing pain of having my arms so cruelly restrained. But then I realized the torment seemed to increase my arousal!
As we proceeded through the ship, one girl reached down and placed her palm on top of my mons. Using that area to steady her hand, her fingers draped downward and diddled away at my labia and clitoral hood. Step after step her fingers worked and the sensation was most peculiar—walking naked and restrained while being masturbated. Twice I had to stop as a wave of pleasure momentarily prevented my legs from moving. The girls laughed.
“Her nipples are like arrows,” commented one.
“She’s beginning to drip down her thigh,” replied the other with the busy hand.
We finally reached their stateroom and entered. It was large and it appeared that the partitioning walls separating two or three rooms of the ship, when it was used for normal pleasure cruises, had been removed to provide for one very large play room. Two huge beds were found inside, both with steel posters, items of furniture seemingly incongruous to an ocean going vessel. One wall was covered with implements of restraint and correction. I shuddered at all the whips and crops, but could not envision the diminutive girls using such.
“On the bed, Alexi.”
They spoke to each other and I learned that their names were Dottie and Lottie. I could not distinguish which was which.
One girl gratefully released my thumbs from the yoke and pushed me to lie on my back. The other then picked up a foot and encircled my ankle with a comfortable fur lined cuff.
“We like girls,” commented one. “You may or may not. It doesn’t matter.”
My thumbs found themselves attached to the bedposts. This stretched out my arms and separated my hands well apart over my head. The cramping ceased and initially the relief felt good. The utility of the cylinder encasing my hair was demonstrated. It was used to immobilize my head by securing it to a cord strung from post to post.
