Sailing The Waters With A Female Captain

Romance at Sea with a Female Captain

 

Woman captain? Passion on deck? Nonsense, they told me. Despite everything, I always fought for my own and tried to climb the ranks of the seafaring career. Now I sail in huge ships full of containers, managing a crew of all men. I always try to be a professional, but the captain also has needs, especially when you are at sea. This time, I wanted to have fun really hard. I called the boatswain to my place to find the seaman who was the worst at performing his duties. I felt like punishing someone. This blog, Passion on Deck will delve into the experience and deep-seated passion of being a female captain.

Hearts Adrift: Passion on Deck

The young man looked, at maximum, 25. He seemed a bit emaciated and had to be fattened a bit for the future. After all, I want to punish him, but I’m not heartless. He was standing there, ready for his scolding. I sent the Bosman to guard the door on the other side. “Mr. Whitfield,” I stood up, frowning menacingly. I was wearing a pencil skirt that touched my wide hips and my blouse was unbuttoned so that he could see exactly between the groove of my breasts. “The Bosman is complaining about you, and you’re not working well with your lack of passion on deck.”

“I really,” he stuttered, “I don’t know what’s going on. I’ll try to keep the deck clean.”

“Exactly.” I nodded and shook my finger at him. “You’re trying, but how do you do it? You’re screwing up,” I said firmly. I felt that he, too, froze, as if he was afraid to hear something more. “There is no place for screwing on my ship, Mr. Whitfield, only passion on deck.”

“Yes, Captain,” he muttered, and I walked around him. I raised my hand high and lowered it quickly. I slapped his ass with a bang. It was surprisingly firm and hard.

“That’s what you say to your captain?” I asked, tightening my fingers tightly around his ass. “You know what, Mr. Whitfield?” First, I grabbed one of his hands and leaned it on the desktop. “In the past, insubordination and lack of passion on deck was punished with the highest corporal punishment.” Then, I grabbed the other hand and pressed it to the desk. Finally, I went into a locker that was usually padlocked.

Passion on Deck: Love Afloat

“Captain,” he whimpered.

“Be silent, Whitfield,” I said, looking at the other torture devices that were there. I bent a whip that I bought in a marketplace in Dubai. Then, I looked closely at the harness with a large artificial phallus that I had bought during the Gion Matsuri Fair in Kyoto, Japan. I already knew what I wanted, passion on deck.

“You must be punished, too,” I walked up behind him and gagged him. Still, he did not break and run away. Hermes in the guise of the boatswain on the other side of the door wouldn’t let him go out and he knew it. Just as he knew what was said about me among the crew. I fastened the soft, black ball tightly over his mouth. Then, I ripped his pants off him and felt his bare ass showing.

“You spend a lot of time exercising, Mr. Whitfield.” I was rubbing his ass a lot, parting it a bit then clenching it again. He mumbled something, but it was hard to understand, I went to the cupboard and grabbed the whip. I tore up his t-shirt and slapped him right over the back. The red streak bloomed within seconds, and he bowed painfully. I watched with fascination as darker droplets appeared in some places on the red line. I ran my tongue over them.

Romance Unfolding on the Open Sea

“You will learn how to fulfill your duties.” There was a scuffle of stiffly laced thongs in the air. Crash. A hiss of pain and the young man’s back painfully arched. Shortly, another red line appeared and I ran my finger on it. When I reached my hand between his ass cheeks, I grabbed his testicles and started massaging them, pressing hard. They were full. We haven’t had passion on deck or been to port for a long time, and the boy was clearly not a fan of needlework.

I put down my whip and grabbed the harness he had been staring at for a long time with some horror. A double-sided dildo, one part of which went inside me. I fastened the straps around my hips, feeling the toy fill me up. As I spat between his bum cheeks and grabbed him by the neck like a kitten, pressing him against the table, he was helpless, especially while I was driving his ass.

I wasn’t delicate. Though his neglect was not only about the cleanliness of the deck, the mess could have made it slippery, and someone could fall overboard. The boy needed a lesson. Holding him by the hair on the back of his head, I dominated him, and he didn’t object for a moment. I saw him close his eyes, he was fine, although certainly not used to such games. Although he would have to get used to it. I was going to make him my new sex toy and newfound passion on deck.

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