Ship of Remorse

by Chris Bellows

  “Do you still feel hungry now?”

  And most disturbing, my silent answer was ‘no’.

  The rush of thick sperm, voluminously produced by the virile sailor in his sexual prime, served to temporarily quell the hunger. So after every climax I learned to carefully scoop the last drops from his urethra and gently tongue the head and shaft searching for any overlooked hunger-staving remnants. When finished, my tongue and lips thoroughly cleansed his softening penis and every drop of his sperm was fully sucked into my craving stomach.

  The notion of so willingly taking everything the young sailor had to offer frightened me. Receiving sustenance, if it could be so termed, in such a sordid manner would have been deemed most offensive at one time in my life. But the pangs indeed subsided and my oral attentiveness and the dexterity of my tongue enthralled Nurse Inga.

  “Well, Alexi. Perhaps we should put you on a special feeding program. You seem to have quite the appetite for the male essence.”

  She laughed uproariously with the suggestion and I flushed with shame. But I had come to welcome the temporary relief from the hunger.

  The encounters with Josef always ended with Nurse Inga parting my labia with her fingers as I humbly knelt over his pot. Then I would patiently look up to await the sailor’s nod, for it was only with his permission that I was finally permitted to open my bladder and use his basin.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In a few weeks the girls from 2 stall also stopped visiting the lounge. In their place a new set of girls from 5 stall joined us in the deviant antics. All young, voluptuous, and all lactating like dairy cows.

  One evening while being aggressively milked, a particularly clumsy but fervent woman talked to me as my fluid squirted into the waiting bowl.

  “Well, Alexi you’ll soon be having more fun. Its June you know. March is nine months off for the girls of 3 stall and I’m going to enjoy watching Dr. Helga part those juicy lips of yours and do her thing. I just may purchase a video of that!”

  She made her comment with such zeal that I pondered over the remark as she laughed. Being isolated in the stall, none of us girls had any sense of time, much less of the day, week or month. But if it was in fact June, my fateful afternoon romp in stepfather’s barn was a year before. That made me briefly think of the Iowa farm country, which I didn’t miss much except for Mom. I did miss New York and the excitement, and I reminisced somewhat over the swanky club. Watching the men get excited over the naked girls was quite a sight for a farm girl from the Midwest, and I longed for them to be excited over me. I was certain that given another opportunity to ‘interview’, the fat, the bad and the perverted was sure to hire me as a dancer. Especially since Josef had imbued me with the requisite ‘skill’ needed to pass his ‘interview’.

  Yes, soon it would be autumn and ‘The Scarlet Letter’ would return to the northeast U.S. and begin its journey down the coast. I wish I had read the papers I had signed. Surely it would be most logical to release me when the ship reached New York. Nurse Inga had stated that all my things would be returned to me.

  But then, as I recalled her words, she never said when!

  With my sudden panicked thoughts, I found I was not paying attention. Ms. Fervor’s fingers had found the bottom of my abundant reservoir yet she kept squeezing and tugging my nipples. My feelings of detached arousal turned to irritation and brought me back to the libidinous escapades of the ship’s lounge. I winced in pain, hoping the woman would understand I had no more to give. I looked over to see Maria’s breasts still producing even as the first bowl filled to the brim. So like most of the guests my milker was eager to win the evening’s contest and kept pinching. I knew Maria’s fine breasts consistently produced more than any other ‘cowgirl’. But there was nothing more I could do than to stoically remain silent and accept the irritation with a grimace. Hopefully Nurse Inga would later notice my reddened nipples and apply her cow ointment, I thought.

  The next morning, as we waited to one by one fill the beaker for Nurse Inga, I thought more about the information Ms. Fervor had casually shared as her talentless fingers endeavored to maximize the flow of my breast milk. A few weeks earlier I had menstruated for the first time since dropping the child. And Nurse Inga had taken great care to record the date in small numbers on my left buttock. The ink used was again indelible, but nowhere near as permanent as the larger numeral ‘3' on my right buttock, for the writing had already begun to fade with daily visits to the communal tub.

  After exercise, Dr. Helga visited the washroom while we frolicked and rubbed against each other like pubescent puppies. She watched with a smile then turned to Nurse Inga.

  “Send me the girl nearest ovulation, first. Then the others in order of the dates “

  She departed and Nurse Inga went from girl to girl (or should I write hip to hip) to determine whom amongst us had experienced their period two weeks before.

  It was Maria and when Nurse Inga took her out of the room, leaving us to ourselves, we rubbed thighs against mons veneris like animals in heat. None of us gave a moment’s thought as to Maria’s fate. Until that is when Nurse Inga returned and next took me. I was wet and frustrated when she pulled me from the tub. Mona and I were quim to quim and frottaging like never before. It was then that I wondered what was interrupting our short daily recreation period.

  Well, it was back to the examination room. I had thankfully not been there in months and Dr. Helga waited with Nurse Katrina in full medical garb.

  With all the time spent aboard ship, I wordlessly went to the table, sat and spread my legs. Nurse Katrina smiled with my act of subjugation, yet chose to secure my ankles into the stirrups. A thorough pelvic exam followed. Fully exposed, the camera whirred away as usual. Dr. Helga spoke in medical terms. Nurse Katrina took notes.

  My mind wandered to a point. Then certain snippets of Dr. Helga’s diction caught my attention.

  “The wombs of these girls are remarkable. But... that’s youth. Schedule this one for three days after Maria. Mix the semen. You know I like surprises. The DNA tests will tell us if we later need to know the progenitor.”

  Semen! Progenitor!

  I was again led back to the stall in a quandary. For the next few days the normal routine continued. But then one afternoon after exercise, Maria was taken away. She returned a few hours later, crying and was subsequently excused from lounge duty for that evening. These were the times when I found the mandated silence to be so frustrating. After all that we ‘cowgirls’ had been through, what could make Maria cry? She was treated with great care. She was not only the best milker among the group, but no girl from 1, 2, 4 or 5, stall had yet to produce better than she did.

  What had upset her so? We could not ask, and if we did so we could not expect an answer.

  Days later, I was taken from the exercise room. By the end of that afternoon I fully understood Maria’s remorse.

  Dr. Helga inseminated me! Just as days before she had Maria!

  The method for filling my vagina with semen was a strange combination of clinical sterility and bordello sordidness.

  Nurse Inga led me up flights stairs to a large room near the main lounge. The floor was tiled in white with the walls painted the same color. Dozens of extremely bright lights made all the white seem whiter.

  There was no ruse concerning cameras as in most of the other rooms frequented by us ‘cowgirls’. This room had cameras mounted in plain sight, high in each of the corners with two others in the middle of the ceiling.

  In three of the walls the austere expanse of whiteness was interrupted by large picture windows. Below were steel cabinets, also painted white. The fourth wall was draped with medical paraphernalia.

  In the center of the room was an operating table. The numerous cranks, handles, dials evidenced the purpose of the design, which was to enable the operator to place the subservient, nude female body in any desired position and secure it there.

  I was scared. Naked. Restrained in my yoke. My bell clang
ed, reminding me of my lowly status as Nurse Inga walked me about. As we passed the table I noticed another camera imbedded into the floor covered by a strong clear plate of Lucite.

  Nurse Inga led me to a far corner. There she turned a valve and a shower nozzle spurted water. She quickly hosed me, soaped me, then rinsed and gently toweled my freshly cleansed flesh.

  Next she led me to the table. Nurse Inga placed me prostrate on the flat surface. Each end of my yoke was clipped to waiting brackets on the edges of table. My ankles were cuffed and secured left and right to the edges at the bottom. Nurse Inga turned one of the cranks. I felt my legs separate as the bottom portion of the table parted. After a minute my labia opened and I felt the cool room air in my most intimate place. She continued turning until my legs were incredibly split and I was obscenely presented. I thought about the camera in the floor below and imagined it to be filming my not only wide-open vaginal passage but the very opening of my womb!

  Another crank was turned. The table tilted with my head moving downward and my well-parted feet moving higher. Finally, a latch was pulled. A door within the table surface under my breasts fell away. My swollen, milk-laden glands fell with it to hang freely. My elongated nipples almost touched the cold tile floor.

  I was given an enema. Warm, deep and thorough I had become accustomed to the daily procedure, but not before all the cameras. After expelling the contents, my rectum was carefully lubricated. This was not part of the daily procedure. Her gloved fingers probed deeply with globs of slippery goo.

  Faces began to appear at the windows to the right and left. I recognized the guests from the many evenings of lounge entertainment. I could only imagine how many were assembled before the window behind me. I shuddered being so completely exposed under the bright lights and having the pretty young nurse work about my well displayed genitalia.

  “I’ll need to have you empty your bladder, Alexi. Be a good girl for me.”

  Did I have a choice?

  Nurse Inga held a beaker under me. I complied with her request and watched the cheery reaction on the faces to my left.

  The next few minutes were spent douching me then carefully shaving what must have been mere stubs of what little pubic hair had began to grow since the prior day’s shave.

  When she finished she dabbed away with a towel removing all lather and excess moisture.

  Then she wordlessly left, leaving me bound and exposed to the gaze of the many lecherous guests.

  Chapter Seventeen

  What was going to happen? My thoughts ran wildly as I just laid and waited.

  My breasts ached as they did more often than not. The hormone filled daily rectal feedings kept the glands amazingly active. It may have been psychosomatic but I imagined the tingling sensation I constantly felt was the various cells in my nipples producing at a rapid rate. I needed to lactate and pined for Nurse Inga’s wonderful touch. It had been many weeks since the twice-daily milkings had stopped. The sole manner in which I was relieved of the building milk was by way of the lounge, where most guest’s fingers were harsh and unskilled.

  Perhaps Dr. Helga would give me thorough milking! Yes, maybe that was the purpose of all the preparations, one large extremely slow and sensational milking for the benefit of all the guests. Finally teach them how it should be done.

  Dr. Helga entered. With her was Nurse Katrina and I was shocked to see Josef and another young handsome crewmember, both wearing the white tent-like sheets of hospital patients. I was most humiliated being spread so open for them. They smiled evilly.

  “Good afternoon, Alexi. As you may or may not know it is June, which makes March nine months away for the girls in 3 stall. And you’re ovulating. So it’s time to be inseminated.

  “Since the preparations are rather elaborate and I hate to have to try again, I have over the years developed a technique which is close to 100% effective

  “Your role is to just relax. And I think you’ll be pleased with the results. Just think, you’ll be back to eating food again.”

  I panicked. Inseminated! Another child! I struggled against my bonds. Josef and Helmut laughed.

  As tempting as the offer of food was, I would have preferred not to participate. But I was strapped to the table, naked and spread. She could do with me as she pleased.

  “Josef and Helmut will assist. We’ve learned a little trick from animal breeders. Hormone flow and desire are important elements to the process.”

  Yes. I knew that from the days of my youth watching the farmers impregnate the various animals. Even when a cow was to be artificially inseminated, a stud bull was corralled nearby to put the female in heat. Well, it appeared that I had two stud bulls for my insemination.

  My eyes began to tear with the thought of once again waddling about the ship with my belly proceeding me. Of bearing another child. Of not being able to return to New York and having another opportunity to dance.

  Meanwhile Nurse Katrina inserted a thermometer into my vagina. While she held it there she smoothed her fingers down my inner labia then caressed my clitoris. I sighed spontaneously but was chagrined to realize that I was spread open to the point that my little bud peeked out of its hood so conveniently.

  99.5 degrees Doctor,” the nurse dutifully reported as she continued her manipulation.

  “Excellent. You are indeed ovulating, Alexi. Relax and enjoy. What will happen will happen.”

  With Dr. Helga’s words the procedure began. Nurse Katrina more vigorously stroked my pink parts. I felt a little valve open deep inside. My juices began to flow.

  With a nod from the Doctor, Josef and Helmut removed the hospital gowns. Underneath they were naked and my eyes immediately moved to their semi-erect male members. I knew Josef to be huge. I was not prepared for the sight Helmut’s phallus. It was slightly longer than Josef’s, but it must have been a full half-inch thicker.

  “I understand you have an affinity for fellatio, Alexi. No reason to deny you the pleasure during your most important task aboard ‘The Scarlet Letter’.”

  Dr. Helga’s tone was mocking as I watched Josef approach. I hated myself for instinctively opening my mouth. I could hear the faint cheers of the guests standing behind the thick glass.

  “Josef says you enjoy being fed this way. Bon appétit! Mount her Helmut!”

  Helmut moved to my left and placed his left foot into a small leather strap hanging from the side of the table. Meanwhile Josef grabbed my handle and inserted his semi hard penis in my mouth. The people. The cameras. The humiliation.

  He paused while the massive organ grew in my mouth. I knew to prevent choking that I needed to open my gullet and let it extend deep beyond the back of my throat. When he felt it fully harden, he began. Essentially he was fornicating my face, thrusting slowly with his hips.

  Meanwhile I felt Helmut straddling my waist, evidently placing his right foot into a similar strap on the right side of the table.

  “Helmut loves to use the backsides of young ladies, Alexi. A rather stout penis but somehow he always manages full penetration. If you develop a liking, Helmut can oblige you any time.”

  With Dr. Helga’s sarcastic explanation, the hot, rock hard tip of Helmut’s fat erection began knocking on my well-lubricated anus. When he placed his hands on my yoke to steady himself. I pictured him riding me like a horse, with my buttocks serving as a saddle he pushed his massive manhood straight downward into my defenseless portal.

  I’m sure it was a most acrobatic maneuver, but Helmut was trained and well practiced. Since I continued to feel Nurse Katrina’s fingers, I realized the contorted method for performing anal penetration was intended to provide her and Dr. Helga with complete access to my vaginal opening while he plugged away.

  The hot cylinder of flesh slid inside me. It was tight and uncomfortable, but over the months I had so many objects inserted that I took it. All of it.

  It had been many weeks since I was permitted to achieve a climax. Daily life aboard the ship so often brought me close, o
nly to have a true orgasm denied. And now with two muscular well-built males penetrating me, and Nurse Katrina’s skilled fingers tantalizing my overly sensitive genitalia. I felt I would faint from the on rush of sensuousness.

  Dr. Helga made a point of standing next to Josef as his penis thrust in and out and I fought not to gag. My saliva dripped uncontrollably and she graciously dabbed some of it from my chin while she narrated, graphically describing Helmut’s deep penetrating thrusts into my sphincter.

  “Yes, very nice Alexi. You’re full of penis, do you realize that? And when I give the word you will also be full of their semen. All your apertures will be stuffed full of the potent male essence. Thought provoking, no? Feel rather subjugated?”

  Dr. Helga laughed with her observation. I certainly knew I was stuffed full. My mouth and anus were being frictioned and seemed to be close to catching fire. Josef and Helmut pumped vigorously.

  Katrina reported that I was dripping. She next inserted two fingers and further reported a degree of vacillation.

  “Wonderful. In addition to understanding pregnancy and childbirth, Alexi, we also have a very good understanding of the female organ and orgasm. There are any number of ways to be inseminated. For my girls I like to make it as memorable as possible. I also like to entertain my guests, as you know. Plus, you would not believe the price I can command for the tapes we’re making. My biggest sellers.

  “When your vaginal walls begin to vacillate, that’s the beginning of the road toward orgasm. When that occurs contractions cause any semen to be sucked up to better enter the cervix. So I want you to have a nice powerful orgasm. Josef and Helmut will help. Think of how they’re using you. You’re just one large, hot vagina to be penetrated. You’re open. Every aperture. Your mouth. Your rectum. And your labia. Oh, I almost forgot this.”

  She held up a rubber phallus, black with a white sticky fluid dripping from a faux urethral opening at the end.