Adobe
Magistrate
It was vexing how ocean spray could reach her up there. Vertical lines of salt residue were drawn like claw marks down her breasts, on her belly, over her thighs. She shifted and twisted as much as she could, arms aloft and suspended on the cross. Naked and tanned now several shades darker than when the cruise began, Robin hoped no one back home would ever find out about this madness, about the triangle tan lines on her tits where her bikini used to be. ...About Iris.
It had been hours and she still didn't know what to feel about being tied to a cross on a ship full of freaks and kinks. Facing a sea of strangers on the top deck at the stern, she finds the eyes of her new friend gazing back at her. It was only a cruise. Iris asked her to come so nicely. Robin didn't want to let her down.
She felt a throbbing of the kind that makes one spit out a million venial sins in confession to obscure the one thing that she was fairly certain was truly unholy.
She moaned. She inhaled as much as her tortured lungs would let her. She closed her eyes and felt another spray of the sea rain down on her. She tried to shake away rising arousal. She'd never imagined being tied up in front of so many people would make her so hot. Henning? The captains name. Seagull or someone laughing? Was there any life out there beyond the thunderous music that played into the night. Carnal Cruise, was that what they called it? Crux... Cruise... Jesus. Another spray!
The wooden platform that held the cross was built a few feet above the deck like a stage fit for one. Her wrists were held by leather cuffs. Each ankle affixed the same way, low enough on the cross so she could stand. Head hanging down, she opened her eyes and saw a laser grid pattern over her feet. She arched her soles to relive the cramping and the light slowly rose over her body.
People from all over the world were on the ship. Most of them on the decks that night were dressed in orgiastic outfits like an X-rated Cirque de Soleil. Iris was petite yet impossible to miss, bright red hair, her whole body painted in vertical stripes of rainbow colors. Glittering and gay, she was fixed on Robin despite all the movement from the waves far below to the blissful tides of dancers, whip lashes, and coordinated master-slave displays.
It was a warm autumn night as they sailed off further into the tropics. Robin couldn't remember how long she'd been crucified. She knew however that before she had agreed to participate she smoked just a single drag of a joint being shared below deck. Blew the smoke out a port hole in their room. Made certain she would remember to excuse herself from any festivities as soon as her usual anxieties kicked in. Those anxities were a foggy memory now. Everything was crystal clear, lucid. Every ache in her outstretched arms. Every drip of sweat that found it's way through the tangle of hairs on her exposed self. Her old self was left in the room below. All the new could do was experience all of it without any concept of time.
She felt the music. Her hips drew silent circles, conjuring portals in the air around the cross as the rave went on.
...to be continued.
It had been hours and she still didn't know what to feel about being tied to a cross on a ship full of freaks and kinks. Facing a sea of strangers on the top deck at the stern, she finds the eyes of her new friend gazing back at her. It was only a cruise. Iris asked her to come so nicely. Robin didn't want to let her down.
She felt a throbbing of the kind that makes one spit out a million venial sins in confession to obscure the one thing that she was fairly certain was truly unholy.
She moaned. She inhaled as much as her tortured lungs would let her. She closed her eyes and felt another spray of the sea rain down on her. She tried to shake away rising arousal. She'd never imagined being tied up in front of so many people would make her so hot. Henning? The captains name. Seagull or someone laughing? Was there any life out there beyond the thunderous music that played into the night. Carnal Cruise, was that what they called it? Crux... Cruise... Jesus. Another spray!
The wooden platform that held the cross was built a few feet above the deck like a stage fit for one. Her wrists were held by leather cuffs. Each ankle affixed the same way, low enough on the cross so she could stand. Head hanging down, she opened her eyes and saw a laser grid pattern over her feet. She arched her soles to relive the cramping and the light slowly rose over her body.
People from all over the world were on the ship. Most of them on the decks that night were dressed in orgiastic outfits like an X-rated Cirque de Soleil. Iris was petite yet impossible to miss, bright red hair, her whole body painted in vertical stripes of rainbow colors. Glittering and gay, she was fixed on Robin despite all the movement from the waves far below to the blissful tides of dancers, whip lashes, and coordinated master-slave displays.
It was a warm autumn night as they sailed off further into the tropics. Robin couldn't remember how long she'd been crucified. She knew however that before she had agreed to participate she smoked just a single drag of a joint being shared below deck. Blew the smoke out a port hole in their room. Made certain she would remember to excuse herself from any festivities as soon as her usual anxieties kicked in. Those anxities were a foggy memory now. Everything was crystal clear, lucid. Every ache in her outstretched arms. Every drip of sweat that found it's way through the tangle of hairs on her exposed self. Her old self was left in the room below. All the new could do was experience all of it without any concept of time.
She felt the music. Her hips drew silent circles, conjuring portals in the air around the cross as the rave went on.
...to be continued.
