Even for the swift four-mast Lanadian fighting ship SeaEagle it was a five day sail
from Uballa to the port of Vil, always a boring voyage. These blue waters swarmed with
pirates, but none dared waylay a warship of the Lanadian Empire. However, Gallor knew how
to keep his crew contented. Every day the naked slave girls he had purchased in Uballa
were herded up to the quarterdeck and lined up before the leering crew. Crowded together,
their naked bodies gleaming in the sun, they made an erotic tableau that stirred the lust
of every man. Any girl who persisted in covering her charms with her hands was tied to the
main mast and lightly whipped until she agreed to display herself properly. One by one, in
strict order devised and overseen by the ship’s Task Master, crew members browsed over the
lovely display until every slave girl had been selected to pleasure her admirer. They were
taken below decks into the din of girlish squeals and raucous cries of joy.
This was not a popular routine with the girls because it required usually fifty to
seventy girls to take part in four, sometimes five, services a day to gratify the entire
crew of 240 lusty seamen. Some girls cried, some begged to be spared, and some—a welcome
event—fought to preserve their honor. This always ended in a flogging. The screams and
shrieks of lovely naked girls being whipped on the mainmast was always a welcome diversion
for the crew. And of course it always ended with the rebellious slave meekly following her
assigned lover into the hold of the ship.
The only girls spared were those wearing green collars—the universal emblem of
virgins. And there was one extra virgin on this trip, but she was wearing a plain brown
collar like most of the captives.
The Princess of Fawty spent most of the voyage shackled in the bowels of the vessel
just like all the other girls. Gallor had decided on this treatment to impress on the
princess that she was now just an ordinary slave girl. It also concealed her true
identity. Gallor was not yet ready to announce the capture of the Princess of Fawty. And
it seemed the princess felt the same way. Gallor guessed that she feared, if her identity
was revealed, that she might suffer assassination by the many enemies of the Fawty king.
The crew knew to avoid her, believing she was destined for the prince’s bed after a
period of humbling, but some of them were told to look her over and visibly reject her for
some apparent flaw. Gallor watched her carefully. At first she showed relief that she was
not selected, but after a few rejections he could see that she was conflicted. She didn’t
want to be selected, yet she was puzzled, and a bit disconcerted, that no man found her
attractive enough to choose her.
On the last day, with the whole crew looking on, he summoned her to kneel before
him. He noted that not once had she pleasured a crew member. He made her spread her legs
obscenely. It took several strokes of a flogger to achieve this stance, which she finally
performed but with a glowering expression as she looked up at him. When he squeezed one of
her breasts, she spat at him, a shot that pathetically just landed on his boot.
Piqued by her insolence, he ordered her to pleasure herself.
This was the most humiliating command a master could give a slave girl of Mergar.
Some girls would rather die than be seen by strangers in the throes of such a personal
experience as an orgasm.
“Well?” Gallor asked her after waiting a brief interval. She had made no move to
obey.
“Obey me, Slut,” he growled.
“Never!” she hissed back.
Gallor shrugged indifferently. He nodded at a couple of nearby seamen. “Throw her
overboard,” he ordered.
They picked her up while another man shackled her wrists together, then her ankles.
She made no effort to struggle but gasped out a few curses and yips of fear. They carried
her to the side of the ship and heaved her overboard. She landed in the water with a
splash and a cry of fright. Instead of sinking to the depths of the sea, she was buffeted
by the currents of water as she was dragged by the ship. She had a cable attached to her
ankles. It was from one of the ship’s loading cranes which now snatched her up and swung
her like a pendulum through the air parallel to the ship’s course until she had swung
almost as far forward as the ship’s bow. There she plunged into the water again, was once
more dragged and buffeted, salt water forcing into her nose making her cough and gag. Then
once more she was jerked into the air, screaming and sputtering, the water pouring out of
her nose, ears and mouth, vertiginously swung forward, dropped back into the sea to be
pummeled and almost drowned again, then once more sprawling into the air, swinging,
plummeting. After six or seven sets of this punishment they hauled her out..
She found herself hanging by her ankles over the ship’s rail, upside down, facing
the bushy visage of her tormentor. She was aware of chilly water still draining off her
naked body, her hair stuck around her face in a sodden salt water mess. She still had not
sucked in enough air to placate her gulping lungs.
“Want more?: he asked jauntily.
“No.” she sobbed, plainly showing that this time he had won.
“No, Master, please,” he corrected her.
“No, Master, please,” she parroted him obediently, if not enthusiastically.
“I will obey you, Master,” he went on.
She hesitated, but decided further resistance was foolish. “I will obey you,
Master.”
They pulled her aboard, unshackled and set her up on her knees exactly where she
had been before. She cowered under his stony gaze.
“Start by playing with your tits,” he commanded.
With tears of humiliation in her eyes, yet inspired by his domination and fear of
further punishment, she slowly raised her hands to her breasts. Her body shuddered in
shame as she began to stroke and fondle them.
“I want to see those nips harden and engorge,” Gallor told her relentlessly. “And
we don’t have all day. If you need help I’m sure I can find a volunteer…”
Her hands began to work hard at their task. She squeezed and rubbed her lovely
round orbs and teased the nipples with her fingers, all the while her head drooping and
her trembling lips muttering little moans of wretchedness. Gradually as her carnal
sensitivity aroused. Gallor could see her nipples firming and expanding and a droplet of
vaginal juice seeped from the lips of her pussy.
“Now masturbate,” he ordered.
The whole crew and all the slave girls watched in suspenseful silence as she
lowered one hand to her most intimate place. The other hand continued to caress her
breasts. The audience watched with expressions of lust as her darting fingers flitted in
and out of her now juicy love canal and stroked her bud of pleasure.
“Head up” Gallor growled. “We want to see your feelings.”
She sobbed as she obeyed. She raised her face and stared up mournfully at her
master with tears dripping down her cheeks.
Gradually the rebellious slave girl began to gasp. She fought the sexual tensions
morphing into joy in her pussy, vibrating down her legs, across her belly, up her spine,
the sheer delight of them implacably eroding her will to resist. She tried to ignore the
pleasure aches in her breasts and the burning sensations in her nipples. The pace of her
nimble fingers quickened. She strained to contain the rising tumult of sexual feelings
besieging her sense of self.
Honor and dignity were swept aside by the carnal surges besetting her. They became
too compelling. Too absorbing. She admitted, oh so ardently now, that she wanted the
bliss. She began to pant and emit little moans of pleasure.
It finally came like an irresistible tide tossing aside her moral restraints,
forcing her to throw back her head and arch her back. She emitted a cry of delight as her
orgasm roiled through her body. Oh the rapture! The ecstasy! It had been a long time. When
these lovely feelings dwindled and ended, the maltreated slave girl, drained of will and
strength, collapsed. The audience cheered and clapped.
Gallor nodded at the two seamen. They scooped up the utterly degraded young woman
and carried her down into the hold to her chains and shackles.
Gallor knew he had only dented the stubborn pride of the princess, but he also knew
from experience with slave girls that it was a promising start. He knew now that
eventually he could break her.
| 
