by Selena Kitt
Baring her bottom was probably supposed to be humiliating, but nothing could be worse than her underwear. Until his bare palm landed on her already abused left cheek and she shrieked into the gag.
"Do you want me to stop?"
She shook her head.
He rubbed gentle circles on her hot skin. "Show me what you would do if you did want me to."
She lifted two fingers then dropped them, raising her bottom toward him, wanting more, needing more, her core tightening, juices dripping down her thighs. She'd been closed off for so long, working on her frustrating assignments and sleeping and drinking coffee. Untouched.
He reached between her legs and laughed. "So wet. Naughty little scientists like this, I see. It may not be as much of a punishment as I thought." Still, he took up the spanking again, left, right, left, the crack of his palm against her blazing skin so loud in the room she wondered that no one came to the door to see what was wrong. Anya squirmed, wanting to tell him to stop, it was too much, and to keep going, it hurt so good at the same time.
Suddenly, it was over.
He lifted her from his lap and tossed her onto the bed on her back. The stillness raised goose bumps on her skin, but then he was back, drawing her panties the rest of the way off and parting her legs. She felt a jerk, and her left leg was stretched tight, then her right—bound to the bedframe, she was sure.
"Raise your arms above your head."
She did and cold metal encircled her wrists, closing with a click. Cuffs! Anya lay bound spread-eagled on the captain's bed, blindfolded, gagged, and unable to move.
Helpless.
A taste of fear rode over the erotic tingle she'd enjoyed. Her blazing bottom scraped against the coarse wool blanket whenever she moved. Her sense of self-preservation awoke, finally. What if he chose to harm her then toss her overboard? Who would ever know? She'd just have disappeared in the night.
Fine tremors shook her, and he stroked her flanks like a horse. "Shhh, little scientist. The punishment is over. You've earned some pleasure. Do you want the gag out?"
She nodded frantically, sucking in a breath of fresh air when he eased it from her jaws.
"Do you want something else in there?"
She nodded again and he chuckled.
"I have just the thing, but before I allow you to drink my cum, I want to taste yours. Is it as sweet as your ass?"
She had no answer to that, so remained still.
Her pussy felt so exposed, more so when he traced the outline with a warm, wet tongue before delving inside. With his mouth. Boris never… Screw Boris. She was realizing already that Boris had been out for himself more than her. He'd taught her some things, but it had never been enough. His Party wife could deal with him. He'd never licked Anya… back to front to back. Never drawn her clit into his mouth to savor and play with while she bit her lip until she tasted blood to keep from crying out in pleasure.
Her captain worked her pussy like a melting fruit ice on a hot day in summer, slurping up her juices when she rocked her hips toward him. Anya winced as her paddled bottom scraped on the blankets. She was close, so close, but he slowed down, lapping casually at her, tickling her clit with the tip of his tongue. He slipped a finger inside her, then a second.
"So wet," he murmured. "But so tight. Do you want my cock in this pussy, too?" He added a third finger and spread them apart, stretching her. "Whose pussy is this?"
"Yours, Sir."
"For tonight, it is." He continued to flex inside her and worked a fourth finger in to join the others, nibbling on her clit as he did.
She whimpered in protest, but he patted her flank again. "Easy, girl. I've got you."
His fingers fanned inside her, stretching, easing her. Her juices eased the way, but she'd never felt so full. He added his thumb and worked his hand in and out. She thrashed, the stimulation, inside and out, almost too much. "I want… I need to come."
He murmured against her clit, making it harder to hold back. "There's no rush." His hand continued to slide, a little deeper every time as he watched her closely.
"But there is…" Because tomorrow they'd be back at work, and the next day or maybe the next a Soviet ship would come alongside, led by their own polar ice breaker, finally arrived on the scene. Or maybe the US would insist on another ice breaker of their own. Capitalist pigs.
She choked. Capitalist pigs like the one who currently held her in the palm of his hand? Who worked his whole hand—God, was he going to do that?—into her cunt?
"There's enough time to show you the pleasure I promised. You took the punishment like a trouper, but I'm not going to be rushed. Yes?"
"Aye, Captain." The corner of the blindfold slipped enough that she could see from one eye. She probably should say something, but after all the inability to see him, she wanted to look, to reassure herself of the reality of the man besides his voice, his touch, his insanely talented tongue. She wanted to see his eyes.
His hand moved deeper, the heel of it stopping just outside. "I want to fist you. Have you done that?"
She swallowed hard and shook her head.
"Talk to me. Communication. I don't want to hurt you, too much." He bent to nibble on her pussy lips, avoiding her needy clit, keeping her on the edge… "Ready to try?"
She squeezed her eyes closed, frightened and excited and teetering. "Yes."
He sucked her clit into his mouth and tugged it with his teeth as he stretched her so wide, she felt split in two. And it hurt, but it hurt so good, and she panted, grinding on his arm, riding him, as he filled every inch of her inside, then she couldn't hold back any longer and she came around his hand, tightening around his fingers, his hot tongue lapping her pussy and every cell in her body screaming in ecstasy.
When she could breathe again, she saw him from the corner of the blindfold grinning, his chin shiny with her cream. "I think you're starting to get the hang of shipboard life. It's a shame you can't stay on board." He'd left the overhead light on and everything was cast in brightness behind his naked body, his face shadowed. Her captain's dark, fathomless eyes narrowed, and he reached up her body and grabbed the blindfold. Twisting the knot to the front, he untied it and wiped his face on the cloth. "A blindfold isn't useful if you're peeking out of the top of it, Anya."
"Bad little scientist… Captain?" She drank in the view
He chuckled. "So bad. But are you asking me to spank you again?"
She shook her head, greedily eyeing his broad shoulders, defined biceps, pectorals, muscled abdomen, his… Enticing as the idea of another spanking was, time constraints led her to want that rigid penis inside her before the mission ended and they never saw each other again. A pang of loss at the idea surprised her, and she shoved it down where it belonged. Nudity, sex, intimacy led a woman to thoughts of more, of home and hearth and children. At least, for her, they suddenly did. She shuddered, and he quirked a brow.
He hovered over her, not touching, braced on his bulging forearms. The boat bobbed over another strong wave, and she grabbed his arms. They were solid, like tree trunks.
Let him not know the thoughts even passed her mind. Biology held a tight grip on the female of the species, she reminded herself. The male of many could impregnate and move on. Which might not be bad. Since she had no interest in marriage, a child from such a handsome, intelligent, commanding man would be a gift.
"What are you thinking?"
She couldn't possibly tell him. "About tomorrow; about the object of our mission," she lied.
"Then I am not doing my job as the Dom in this compartment if you have thoughts of another kind of serpent when I am about to shove my dick so far down your throat you won't even have to swallow my cum. It will pour right into your belly."
He slid up the bed and straddled her face. His dick bobbed against her lips, and she eagerly opened them, anxious to taste him, to show him what she could give in return. The second the bulbous head—circumcised, like the only other one of her experience—passed her lips, her
pussy throbbed in need. He'd left her still needy and wanting. She wasn't that bad a little scientist. She flexed her fingers, bound so she couldn't even give herself relief. But the rigid rod filling her mouth left her no room for protest or plea, and she tightened her mouth around it, sucking hard, tracing the prominent vein with her tongue.
"That's about half of it." He threaded his fingers in her hair, most of it loose now from the braid, and adjusted the angle of her head to his liking. Drawing back, he shoved his dick into her mouth, achieving a little more but still not all. "That's it, Anya. I'll feed it to you slowly so you don't choke as long as you stay calm and relax your throat. Can you do that?"
She nodded, a little afraid when the action bumped the head against the back of her throat. So big. He rocked back and forth, a fraction deeper each time, and soon, she couldn't get any air around it and panicked, staring up at him with wide eyes, straining at her bonds. He gave her hair a jerk and bent to drop a kiss on her forehead.
"Breathe through your nose." He watched her as she inhaled and then nodded. "See? You're getting it now, relax your throat." Suddenly, he was all the way in, his balls resting against her chin. "You doing all right?"
God, she was. His ass cheeks rested on her breasts, but not with much weight. He carried his weight on his legs braced on either side of her. He released her hair and grabbed new handfuls, tugging at the roots, but it was all part of the moment, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth, balls bouncing against her each time, fingers holding her hair.
"I'm fucking your mouth, little scientist. Do you like this?"
She did, but with his hands holding her head in place, she couldn't nod anymore, and with her mouth full of his penis, she couldn't answer aloud. She tried to tell him with her eyes how much she did like it and how aching and empty she was, how she wanted him inside her body, filling her another way.
"I like it," he growled. "But I want to fuck that tight cunt after all the work I did to prepare it for me. I think I'll like that, too." He let go of her hair and smoothed it away from her face. "Although watching my dick stretch your cheeks is good, too." He jerked inside her twice more then withdrew. She panted, running her tongue over her teeth as he climbed off her and went to the closet.
Was he going to get dressed?
But no, he returned, smoothing a sheath over his cock, and climbed onto the bed between her spread legs. As he knelt there, ready to pierce her to the core with his dick, the boat tilted to one side, then the other.
Instantly, his focus shifted. She saw him go from her as a submissive to another lady who held more of his attention than she, a temporary distraction, could ever hope to.
The Northern Lights.
* * *
Mark held himself steady, listening to the engine, feeling the ship's roll, how she moved through the waves, and, in a moment, reassured, he smiled down at the woman who smelled like spice and flowers. He stroked her wet pussy with the fingers that had, moments ago, been deep in her body, then lined up the head of his stiff cock and pushed inside her. God, how could she be so tight after he'd had his hand in there? But he still had to rock slowly in and back out again a few times before he could get every inch inside the sweet heat of her pussy. Gliding in and out, he watched her face, as he had for most of the time they'd been in the cabin, needing her reactions to guide his next move.
She lifted her hips, welcoming him inside, and he bent to take a nipple in his mouth, rolling it between his tongue and his teeth and chewing on it, playfully, but hard enough to add the bit of pain she'd shown him she liked. How compatible they were. He liked to give it, she liked to receive.
Switching to the other breast, he suckled it softly and she sighed, then a whine started in her throat. He hadn't told her she needed permission to come, and, unless she asked, he wasn't making it an issue. This time.
But it could be a fun start to the next. She should have known better. He slid his hands under her ass and lifted it, changing the angle of penetration and loving the heat of her spanked bottom in his palms. As his balls tightened and he threw his head back, she keened, her pussy clenched, massaging his length, and his cum shot out to fill the condom.
He took her lips, taking the sound of her beautiful orgasm into his mouth, and stilled, his throbbing cock flexing inside her, still hard and very sensitive.
Chapter Five
Her captain lay over her, his weight half on her and half on the bed, not crushing her, but surrounding her in a comforting, sensual way. Their breathing slowly returned to normal, and she wondered where they stood. He'd been so considerate of her, so aware of her pain and pleasure. She longed to stay with him forever, to serve him, and to serve with him. Ridiculous, of course.
After two years on her own, she'd never have guessed her return to the life would be the best ever. A man of strength and kindness. Of command. How could she walk away from him tomorrow? Or the next day?
As she parted her lips to speak, the ship rocked hard to the side and a siren wailed.
"I have to go." The captain unlocked the cuffs on her wrists, then grabbed a knife from a drawer built into the wall near the bed and slashed her ankle bonds. The fine cord fell away, and she went limp. "I'm sorry."
He dressed quickly and paused in the doorway only to instruct her to stay put until he came for her. When he left, the cabin felt cold and empty. The rolling ship a little frightening. Were they in danger?
Peering out the small window, she could see only waves, the ship rocking back and forth in the swells. It all seemed surreal. The siren died, but a horn sounded, and, from outside the door, she heard the thud of feet pounding in the passageway.
Nothing in her history prepared her for a crisis at sea. Even their own vessel had not been in any danger. The engines malfunctioned but not badly enough to keep it from making its way home.
As she clung to the bed, they rose, up, up up, and fell down and down and down, her stomach plummeting with it. What happened? Had a storm come up suddenly?
Up again and down, and her haze of pleasure, of sweet submission, disappeared completely, leaving her more alert than she'd ever been. She stared outside again and blinked. No. It couldn't be. No… no.
A scaled coil of mammoth proportions rose past the pot—no, porthole—and as it rose, they fell. Then it disappeared, but she leapt from the bed and scrambled into her clothing, leaving off her tangled trampled underwear to drag her slacks up over her hips, wincing as they rubbed past her sore bottom. Yanking on a sweater from her bag and stuffing her feet into her boots, she grabbed her equipment pack and parka and raced for the deck.
She put her hands out for balance as she stumbled down the passageway, the ship's lack of stability a warning things were not as they had been. It surged forward then paused and reversed, surged again, and after an alarming length of time, she emerged into the dullness of a cloudy arctic dawn.
The sailors moved around the decks, speaking in low voices and seeming busy. No one stopped to speak to her or even appeared to notice her, and Anya did not want to distract them from their work with questions.
Instead, she made her way to the rail and leaned over, hunting for whatever she'd seen. All around them, heavy ice bobbed, huge island-sized chunks and little pieces. The Northern Lights had reached the territory where its ice breaking services were needed. She felt a pang that they hadn't encountered the creature sooner, where they might have been able to access it without all the ice, but shrugged the misgivings away. The serpent or whatever it was obviously made its home in the ice for reasons of its own, and, as a scientist, she'd have the unprecedented opportunity to observe it in its home waters.
Could she finally be about to achieve success? To find proof of the existence of a creature only legend told of? After years of disappointments, she tried not to get too excited. But she couldn't help it. She prepared to classify their find.
Snakes and their ilk were usually cold-blooded. While the land versions preferred warmth and usually hibernated during c
hilly times, many types of cold-blooded creatures did thrive in the near-freezing waters of these climes. Squid and octopus for example. She leaned on the rail and catalogued the varieties in her head. Running the glimpse of the cylindrical coil or limb alongside the images of the known species.
It resembled not at all a squid or an octopus. The dark green—if she'd seen the color accurately in the near darkness—was unique. Having spent the past two years of her life chasing down legendary creatures in hopes of making a discovery in the name of her country, she'd probably become jaded. As in; every lake or stream, every inland sea, every body of water she'd investigated had yielded nothing. She'd managed to debunk one or two, but most had been seen by late-night travelers, often on their way home from a night of imbibing with friends, and having to follow up on such things was insulting to her intelligence. All she'd been able to accomplish was taking down the stories and reporting no findings of her own.
She'd been frustrated to have the role of legend investigator when she wanted to do research on the real animals out there. What did they have to offer to science? What did the ability to survive and thrive in extreme cold mean to humanity? Could people learn to have a better tolerance for the frigid temperatures that faced so many of those in the USSR?
She shivered and set down her bag of instruments to fasten her parka and pull up the hood around her face. "Maybe I just want to learn to keep myself warm."
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she spun around.
"I thought we were doing an excellent job of keeping one another warm." His dark eyes could heat the entire ship.
"Da, my captain." She fought the urge to lean into him, aware they could be observed, were likely being watched, by his men. "But I cannot always be in your cabin."
"It's a shame," he said, touching her lower lip. "Your skills would be an asset to any mission."
Hope lifted her like the ship going over a wave, then crashed down again. "I will soon be on my own boat, and you will still be here… in your cabin."
"You know, there are more and more defectors every day. A woman of your intelligence would be welcomed by my government. There is much to discover about the northern latitudes."