Daybreak

It was morning.

Michelle had no idea of how she had been delivered to the bed she found herself in when the warm glow of the morning sun finally penetrated her brain and stirred her senses into wakefulness. She was lying side by side with Cindy, their hair intertwined and with Cindy's small hand resting lightly on her wrist. Erica was at the foot of the bed, snuggled up between Michelle's and Cindy's legs.

This was one of those burned-into-the-soul perfect moments. Quiet, and peaceful - like floating down a slowly meandering river, watching the clouds form and reform new shapes in the air.

As Michelle stretched and moved, her flesh and her muscles reminded her of the punishment they endured the previous night.

Only then did the vivid memories of what she had witnessed and what she had done - and what had done to her - come flooding back into her mind. The truth of what had occurred was stunning and unbelievable in the light of day. The cooing and chirping of the birds outside the window seemed so unreal and so out of place, so normal, compared to what had transpired in this place only hours before.

Could it be possible? Did all of it really happen?

The aches in, and the marks on, her body were a simple, undeniable testament to the reality of the night before.

Yes, it was real. What she had done, what Cindy had done, what Erica and Katia and Veronica and Kiersten and Loretta had done, was all real. It was all true, yet it was all incomprehensible, incredible, and unbelievable. Nobody she could ever tell would ever believe her - really and truly - about last night.

Michelle sat up and saw that her sisters were also beginning to stir.

They were all together, in what appeared to be a harem room. They were strewn across the beds and on the floor like naked Barbie dolls that had been stripped and laid bare, and then cast aside like forgotten and irrelevant children's playthings. Their bodies all bore witness to the uninhibited wickedness they had participated in the night before.

Katia was the first to crawl from her bed to the large, sunken bathtub on the sun-drenched terrace outside their room. She slipped into the water and sank in up to her neck. "This is so fucking unreal," she exhaled. "Ohgod, this feels so good. I could stay here forever. Being Master's whore all night long, and waking up like this each morning, sore and marked and feeling so incredibly, fucking used.... Tell me this isn't a fucking dream."

"It's real, all right," Loretta averred. "My cunt is so damn sore and red. The wax – that was so fucking evil. Blood-red and pouring down my tits and cunt like that. God, that was so damn hot! And I can't believe I had a python slithering over me like that."

"Come on in, girls," Katia called. "There's room for all of us, close fucking friends as we are."

Soon, the other slaves followed; one after the other, to join Katia and Loretta in the water.

The women bathed each other and massaged the painful residue from last night from each other's bodies while they talked in low tones, comparing experiences and feelings, along with their marks.

To Michelle, hearing the others verbalize the unspeakable things they had all done and seen helped her to believe that it was all really true. But it was Loretta's words that made her tremble and made her wet.

"When the snake was rising up and flicking it's tongue at me, and I was moaning.... I looked over at you, Michelle. Up there hanging from the ceiling, having just been fisted by that young woman – Karen, I think it was – and having been used so cruelly. And you know what? I knew the snake couldn't hurt me, not while I was staked out on the sand like that. But I knew you were being hurt, Michelle, and that you were in pain and that the ropes that bound you to the bamboo poles must have been agonizing."

Loretta cupped Michelle's face in her hands. "And you know what, shameless one? I wanted to trade places with you. I wanted to be you. I was so jealous. I knew that Master had picked you over the rest of us for that honor. I wanted that pain and that hurt, and everything else that you endured. I wanted it for myself, instead of you." Tears welled in her eyes. "I was there when you were first presented to Master, in the restaurant. You first tasted his come that special night when I kissed you and gave you the mouthful he had just given me, to seal your initiation into his realm. You are so very special. Do you know that? Both to him, and to me. Please forgive me."

Michelle was crying now, too. She hugged Loretta and kissed her. "I love you. I love all of you. I am yours, as much as I am his. You have taught me and trained me and punished me and used me. We all belong to that most incredible man, together. All of us."

Departure

An hour later, they were all close to being human again. Naked slaves wearing the red welts of submission on their tanned skin and the polished steel collars that marked them as slaves, but human nonetheless.

One of the house slaves, as naked as she was the night before, delivered a breakfast of croissants, fruits, and pastries for the women and then departed, without a speaking a word more than "Good morning".

Michelle and the others nibbled at their breakfast, while they talked in low and hushed tones about what each of them had done and been subjected to the night before. None of them had anticipated nor expected the reality of what had transpired; yet none of them regretted, even for a moment, what they had done, or had done to them.

Loretta proudly displayed the red welts left on her breasts by the candle wax. Veronica and Kiersten recounted their experience of being bound together and suspended by their hair and of being whipped while they were spun in a dizzying circle. Erica told of how she was draped over the rock and chained down, and of how many men and women had used her body. And Katia described what it was like to be fucked by so many men on the dance floor, with the enthusiastic assistance and participation of their wives and lovers.

Michelle, though, remained silent. Loretta's tearful words echoed over and over again in her head. She became lost in the memories of her experiences, replaying in her mind the images of herself suspended from the ceiling; of being fisted and having the python wrapped around her body, and of being fucked by David Carter with assistance from his wife and from Erica and Cindy.

She was already aching to see herself on video - to see what she looked like when she was being used and abused, and when she orgasmed on David Carter's cock, with Erica and Cindy biting and pulling on her labia with their teeth. The mental images of that, alone, were enough to make Michelle wet again.

After the women finished their breakfast and their reminiscences, another of the house slaves arrived. She said, simply, "Follow me."

The fresh-faced black girl led the naked women outdoors and across the deserted patio where they had been used the night before. It had been swept clean and nothing remained to give even the slightest hint of what had transpired there a mere handful of hours earlier. The women trailed through the gardens and onto the beach. The golden strip of sand was deserted in the morning light, though a number of boats were busily transiting the island's small harbor on their way to the open sea.

The slave walked to the water's edge and pointed to a large, twin-hulled catamaran anchored a hundred yards offshore.

"There. Go now. Your Masters await you," she announced.

The women looked at each other, and at the black slave, trying to comprehend what they had been told.

Then Veronica took the lead and dove into the water and began to swim to the sailboat. She called out over her shoulder, "Please, nobody drown. Master hates that, when he loses a slave."

Laughing, the other women soon waded into the waves to follow.

The warm, crystal clear water of the ocean was like a tonic to Michelle. She swam easily through the gentle swells that stirred the otherwise calm surface of the bay. Swimming in the nude and in broad daylight was something she had not done in years. The swirling currents and the eddies her body made as she sliced through the water felt wonderful against her tender skin.

The exercise was as sensual as it was therapeutic. Her bare pussy and clit were especially sensitive, and they responded with a rush of arousal to the gently swirling water and the up and down flutter kicking of her strong, well muscled legs. Her nipples felt like they were being licked by the most soft and gentle of tongues.

It was a long swim, but soon all of the slaves were treading water near the ladder draped over the starboard hull of the boat. It was over eighty feet long, with a single, towering mast. The sails were all tightly furled and the boat appeared to be deserted.

Katia summoned her courage first and climbed up the ladder. "L'audace, toujours l'audace," she called out reprising the clarion call of Victor Hugo's musketeers.

Michelle watched from below, admiring Katia's graceful nude form as she scampered up the ladder, the sun-fired diamond drops of water cascading from her hair, and ass and legs down on the women floating below.

Once Katia was on deck, the other women quickly followed. A minute later, they all stood on the deck, the water dripping from the tanned curves of their naked bodies. The shore and the buildings seemed very distant now.

It was as if they had crossed a new threshold, and into yet another new world.

Standing on the deck of this sailboat, nude and dripping wet in the bright morning light, made all of the women feel very vulnerable, and very naked. They were all quite used to being without clothes in the presence of their Masters, but being so completely naked in the bright light of day, together, was a new experience for all of them.

Other boats cruised nearby, both sail and power boats. While no one was making a scene over the naked women lined up on this particular boat, Michelle could tell from the gestures and the movement of the people on the other boats that she and her sisters were the center of attention in the small harbor.

She shivered involuntarily as she stood on the teak deck of the sailboat next to Kiersten and Cindy, afraid to touch them or any of the intimidating array of ropes and winches and wires that surrounded them. The soothing warmth of the sun beating down on her nakedness was not enough to chase away the arousal induced by the illicit thrill of swimming here form the beach in the nude and now standing in full public view here on the deck, unashamed of her nakedness.

"You will go below, to the salon in the main cabin." Master Damien had appeared behind them from below decks without any of the women noticing. He was dressed in a silk shirt with a bold tropical print, and crisp, white shorts; looking very much like the men on the other nearby boats who steered their craft slowly past the catamaran.

"This way."

He pointed to a ladderway that disappeared down the center of the expansive deck, into the large enclosed cabin area between the twin hulls of the catamaran.

Katia, again, took the lead. The parade of naked female flesh followed her single-file down the steps into the dim light of the boat's interior. When Michelle ducked down the hatch and descended the steep ladder, she found herself in the snug confines of the boat's main cabin. She and the others stood in a semi-circle, instinctively assuming the formal presentation position, with their hands clasped behind their manacled necks.

They faced Master Damien, Archer Howard, David Carter, and Kenneth Grant, seated on chairs on the opposite side of the cabin.

Samantha, Marissa, and Alana are there as well, curled on the floor next to their husbands, each one holding her husband's erect penis in her hand. Each of the wives was attired in a miniscule thong bikini - more of a Brazilian tanga than the type of swimwear ever seen on an American beach.

And none of them had the slightest hint of a tan line. They were all sleek, well-oiled, and completely at ease in their near nudity. And after last night, Michelle knew that these wives were as shameless, exhibitionist, and uninhibited as they were. The only difference was that, while they were subservient to their husbands, they held a position of power and rank over Michelle and the other owned slaves.

Master Damien addressed his assembled harem. "You are here to provide us with entertainment, and to serve us, on this voyage. You will serve all of us, including Samantha, Marissa, and Alana; as if each of us owned you personally. In addition, you will obey all commands and orders you receive from the crew of the Shameless. Yes – that is the name of this fine craft. I expect each and every one of you to live up to the expectations embodied in the name with which we christened this boat."

The women stood motionless as they absorbed the words and the meaning behind their instructions.

"You will be used and traded among us as we see fit. You will be exhibited and paraded in public and semi-public settings. You will be called upon to perform duties you have never experienced before. I expect complete and absolute obedience from each of you. You have been selected especially for your devotion, your enthusiasm for submission, and for your complete lack of inhibitions. Yes, you are all here because you have been judged to be shameless."

He looked at each one of the naked slaves, in turn. "Please, do not let us down," he said quietly, pausing for an additional, dramatic effect. "Your punishment for failure will be severe, and worse than anything you have ever experienced at our hands before. Absolute and complete obedience is the single standard you will be held to. Do you understand?"

The seated dominants each scanned the semi-circle of naked women in front of them.

Michelle spoke first. "Yes, Master. I submit. And I will obey. What you ask for is what I am. I will do anything, absolutely anything, to please you, and to serve you. I do so without reservation. I desire nothing else, than to bring you joy and pleasure."

The other slaves followed, each one using similar words that all conveyed the same intent.

Absolute obedience and complete submission.

Casting Off

Now that each of them had given her word and committed herself to absolute obedience, Master Damien nodded to Samantha Howard.

She stood up and disappeared down the narrow corridor towards the bow of the starboard hull of the catamaran. She returned a few minutes later. As she strode back into the room, Michelle watched her body move with a quiet, feline grace. Her breasts swayed back and forth indecently; and the tiny triangles of gossamer, white fabric were barely able to stay centered over the large, erect pencil-shaped tips of her nipples. The outline of her pussy lips was clearly visible through the tiny swath of cloth that did a woefully inadequate job of covering her pussy.

Only then did Michelle also see that Samantha was also looking directly at her; smiling the wicked, devilish smile of someone who knew what was going to happen next and who couldn't wait for it to unfold.

A flush of excitement surged through her body. She knew, even before Samantha opened her mouth, that she had been chosen. For what, she had no idea.

"Michelle, you will follow me, now. You have been selected," Samantha said coolly, her voice not betraying the sense of excitement that her eyes and her nipples conveyed.

"Yes, Mistress," Michelle replied. She stepped around Loretta to cross the salon and to follow Samantha as she disappeared back down the narrow corridor. Michelle trailed behind Samantha's lewdly swaying hips and ass towards the bow. Then Samantha stopped and turned to face Michelle.

"In there," was all she said, pointing to a closed door on the side of the corridor. Still smiling at Michelle and smirking with her secret knowledge of what lay on the other side of the door, Samantha squeezed past her to return to the salon. Her nipples raked across Michelle's breasts as they both turned sideways to let Samantha squeeze by.

Samantha paused, and pinned Michelle against the wall. She let her hands caress Michelle's breasts, while she ran a finger up her already moist slit

"You truly are beautiful, Michelle, darling. Especially when you scream. There was never any doubt, you know, that he would select you for this."

Michelle's heart was beating fast, both eager and afraid to turn the doorknob and open the unmarked door. She sighed deeply when Samantha sucked each of her nipples into her mouth, massaging them with her lips and tongue and then biting them, one by one, while she masturbated Michelle's engorged, hard clit.

"Make him proud, shameless one," Samantha ordered. Then, she wiped her wet finger across Michelle's lips and started down the hallway. She turned to blow a kiss in Michelle's direction. "Good luck, darling. I am envious of you, you know," she whispered. Then she was gone, leaving Michelle staring at the door that masked her fate.

Michelle's hand shook as she touched the brass doorknob. It was cool and smooth to the touch, and it gave no hint, no clue, as to who or what was on the other side of the door.

Taking a deep breath, Michelle turned the knob and opens the door.

As soon as Michelle's foot crossed the threshold, a strong, masculine hand seized her wrist and pulled her forward into the small cabin. Everything was a sudden blur of motion. Michelle was hurled to her knees. In front of her was a man lying on the floor, nude and holding a large, erect cock in his hands. More hands lifted Michelle and spread her legs. She was lowered onto the erection that stabbed the air.

She groaned as the huge prick forced its way inside her cunt, without a hint of gentleness or of foreplay. More hands on her ass forced her body down onto the cock, shoving it all the way inside her pussy in one rough, no-holds-barred assault.

Michelle could not tell how many men were in the tight confines of the stateroom. All she knew was that they were all naked and that they all intended to fuck her.

As soon as she was impaled on the cock beneath her, another man stepped over the prone body of the man on the floor, and pulled Michelle's face forward, by her hair and thrust his cock down her throat. With a handful of hair in each massive hand, he used her mouth to fuck his cock, moving her head back and forth, and up and down.

Each time, Michelle could barely gulp breaths of air before the man's penis plunged down her throat again.

"You belong to us now, cunt," one of the men hissed. A fucking galley slave, you are. You're our little treat. Our diversion for the voyage. Our whore."

The man underneath her levered his pelvis up and down, slamming his cock into Michelle's pussy with wild abandon. His hands cupped Michelle's breasts, pulling on her nipples.

Michelle moaned loudly, though her voice was muzzled by the hard, male meat filling her mouth.

Fingers probed at her asshole, lubricating her with a slippery, oily cream. One, then two, then three, fingers spread her asshole wide open. A moment later, another cock hammered its way inside Michelle's third fuck hole.

"You like being called our whore, don't you, slave? You know your Master is only a few feet away, and that he has given his consent for us to make you our whore. Do you think he can hear you scream?"

"Yes, please. Make me your whore," Michelle breathed, between gulps of cock. "I want Master to hear me scream. I want him to know that you are fucking me and using me and making me do wicked, unspeakable things."

The combination of the cock in her cunt and the one in her ass felt like they were ripping her apart; stretching her fuck flesh beyond its limits and its endurance. The sheer violence of it was spectacular - being taken so roughly, so completely, and so casually and impersonally. These men cared nothing about Michelle the person. All they were interested in was Michelle the fuck-slave, the sex object that had been given to them for their pleasure. She was only a means to an orgasm, something to fuck, and flesh to come upon.

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