Last Man Standing, Vol. 1
The Sex Boat
I came out on deck by the forward pool and took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. Checking that my handlers were with me, it was time to get down to business. There were probably twenty young women in the forward pool area, most lying out on deck chairs tanning and hoping I would appear. By now, most of them probably would have recognized my face even if my unique "swimwear" hadn't given away my identity.
All eyes were on me now as I made my selection. They had all been instructed not to rush me or mob me; they had been told to keep going about their business, but that wasn't realistic to expect. Some were trying to stand out from the others, wetting their lips or pretending to suck one of their fingers like a dick. I actually had had more bad experiences with the overzealous ones, so that kind of thing usually reduces your chances of being selected. Unless, of course, they're really good at it. Fact is, there really isn't any formula to ensure that you'll be selected, and I very explicitly don't promise that everyone will be. But I do get to a lot of girls over the course of a four-day cruise; if you're young, hot, and visible (that is, spending a lot of time in places where I'm likely to run into you) there's a good chance you'll get your turn. It helps to have red hair, too, but the word has somehow gotten out about that so now I see a lot of bottle reds at my appearances. Since you can dye the hair but you can't reproduce the skin tone, it's usually only real reds that benefit from this particular preference of mine.
That morning, however, my eyes quickly locked on to a young skinny blonde with long straight hair. She was lying face-up in a deck chair, wearing a blue string bikini, one leg bent and one leg straight. I liked the definition of her abs; her moderate breasts appeared much larger by contrast with her flat stomach. I walked over to the side of her deck chair and asked for her ticket. She hadn't expected to be selected, and wasn't really ready, but she knew she might not get the chance again and didn't want to pass it up. She had tucked her ticket into her swimsuit, as many do; she pulled it out and handed it to me.
As soon as I took her ticket my handlers were there with the privacy screens—four medical folding screens that can in seconds completely seal off the area from outside viewing. Once we were "in private," I pulled the release on the modified kilt I wear for easy removal and, as instructed, she stroked my dick a few times and then began to suck it. Ahhhhh....no matter how many girls a day I fuck, I'll never get tired of that sensation when a new girl first takes me into her mouth. I could see now that she was very young, probably just over the minimum age restriction, and that made me harder. I reached for her suit to liberate the nearer of her tits and began playing with her nipple. She was sitting up now, legs on either side of her deck chair, looking up at me while she sucked my dick. This one shouldn't take long at all.
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In case you just dropped in from Mars or something, I guess a little explanation is necessary. I am the last fertile man on earth. The great Kurt Vonnegut once wrote a novel in which the human race went extinct in one generation because of a virus that destroyed women's eggs; he very nearly proved prophetic. The only difference is that the virus actually invades and becomes dormant in the cells that produce sperm. Infected men's sperm counts drop, but the real problem is that the virus causes sperm to be produced with crooked flagella, rendering them for all intents and purposes immobile, and sperm that can't swim don't fertilize eggs. By some accident of genetics—one that scientists are feverishly trying to understand—I am resistant to the virus. So far, I am the only known human male with this resistance—thus I am the last fertile man on earth. Sure, once in a while someone else still gets his wife or girlfriend pregnant, but for that to happen the egg has to chance into the sperm rather than the other way around. In vitro fertilization is still possible and is practiced, but unless it's sperm that I have provided these "test tube babies" are all be susceptible to the virus (while in theory, at least half of the children I father should be resistant). To control the frequency of the practice while also generating revenue, the government has introduced high tariffs on in vitro fertilization, making it prohibitively expensive for most. All in all, the birth of a baby is front-page news in all but the largest of cities nowadays.
While lawmakers around the globe try to figure out how to plan for a million-fold decline in population in the next 50 years, it is it my duty to try to preserve our species by fathering as many children as possible. The government agrees, and has passed all kinds regarding "fruitful males," protecting me like an endangered species and exempting me from many laws. I can legally have sex in public in any state of the union, for instance, and am immune from paternity obligations. But the fact that there are millions of women that want children in the United States alone and just one of me presents a distribution problem. So we have had to come up with novel ways of allowing me to come into contact with large but manageable numbers of women that want to have children, and further (since my resources are limited) to maximize the likelihood that intercourse results in conception. Sex cruises like this one have been one of the most successful methods of distribution; records show that I have fathered up to 30 children on just one four-day cruise. I'm just doing my part to save the human race; it just so happens that my part means I have to fuck as many women as physically possible.
In one of Mel Brooks' movies, the King of France famously said "It's good to be the king." He was right.
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What the blond lacked in oral sophistication she made up for in raw energy; she sucked with a simple, straightforward in-out motion, but at a very arousing tempo. I was ready for intercourse, but she wasn't; caught off-guard, she was thinking about sucking me hadn't even thought to start masturbating. Rather than waste precious time getting her aroused, I called for my personal assistant, Jill.
Jill is tall and thin, with long red hair, subtle freckles, and impressive tits. Hotter than a smelting furnace, Jill is my girl Friday, always close by and ready to lend a hand—literally, if necessary. You might say she's my right-hand man, but I prefer to call her my left-hand girl, because as long as she's around I never have to resort to using my left hand, if you know what I mean. She's always around to do whatever is needed facilitate my population maintenance efforts, whether it be warming up a prospective mother that isn't ready for sex, or extracting samples for artificial inseminations.
Jill came in to the screened area and knelt between the blonde's legs. We gently guided her to lay back on the deck chair; I moved so should still suck while lying down, while Jill pulled aside her bikini bottoms and began to lick her pussy. You might expect there to be some objections to having a woman provide cunnilingus, but its one of the many things prospective mothers agree to in their pre-boarding waivers packet. Besides, in taking this cruise they are hoping to get the chance to have sex with a man they've never met at a moment's notice; a little girl-on-girl action on the side is a drop in the bucket.
Thanks to the assistance of Jill's tongue, the blonde was starting to get wet. I pulled her other nipple out of her suit and played with it, letting her keep sucking me. I looked over at Jill who gave me the high sign—she was ready. I pulled out of the blonde's mouth, then knelt on the foot of the deck chair. She pulled her legs up to her chest. I put my hands on the armrests while Jill, helpful as always, lined up my dick with the blonde's snatch. I felt a soft wetness at the very tip of my cock and Jill letting go, so I must be in position. I pushed forward and my dick sunk easily into the young girl's pussy.
Propped up on the arms of the chair, I looked at the blonde's face—was she really 21? She looked like she could still be in high school. Well, she had to prove her age to get on board, she must be. I kept pumping her, scanning further down her body. Her breasts were nice, her legs arguably nicer. She had her eyes closed—most girls do, maybe its unsettling to look up at a stranger fucking you. She was also biting her lower lip as I thrust into her.
I have to say, one thing I do miss when I'm doing my duty like this: between the emphasis on timeliness and the fact that we are complete strangers fucking, I almost never get to see a girl have an orgasm anymore. Sometimes I'll take Jill aside just for fun and lick her copper box until she cums, but since I fuck all day long I usually want to do something other than fuck in my down time.
I decided that I wanted the girl to put her legs on my shoulders. They were quite nice and shapely since they were so skinny; I kissed one of her calves as it lay on my shoulder, pumping her the whole time. Peering between her legs at her face, I could see that she was actually starting to get into it now. I often catch girls unprepared at first, but once my dick has been pounding her pussy for a while a lot of them eventually get into it.
She was so skinny, I suddenly thought, I bet she could do the splits. I had her grab her legs just above the ankle, then spread them as far to the side as she could without bending them. Wow...she was flexible. Her legs looked a lot more like a straight line across than like a letter 'V' when she spread them. I grabbed her hips, and started fucking her intensely. She was so light, I could easily pick her whole bottom up off the chair and hold it into just the right position to fuck. She was starting to involuntarily make noises now, and opened her eyes to look at me; her expression was a combination of wonder and surprise. Whoever she usually fucked must be pretty vanilla, I thought, because her expression seemed to indicate she didn't know sex could be like this.
But her getting into it was really sexy to look at, and suddenly I knew the orgasm was about to hit. I stopped thrusting, instead pushing myself as deeply into her as I could, so that my penis was right up against the cervix when I ejaculated. I felt the familiar tightening of my balls, followed by the pleasurable waves as my dick unloaded into her pussy. With any luck, she would conceive.
I pulled out and stood up; Jill was there with a wet towel and dry one and helped me clean up my junk. Other handlers escorted in a young man, who dropped to his knees and started licking the blonde's pussy. A woman's orgasm helps suck the sperm into the uterus, so we encourage significant others to lick their woman to orgasm after I have delivered my seed. They are prohibited from having sex with her themselves for at least 24 hours, or risk undermining my fertilization.
Trying not to disrupt the activity on the chair, Jill snapped an orange wristband around the girl's ankle, indicating that I had already fucked her. When I take a girl's ticket, it provides both a tracking system, together with the orange wristband, ensures that I don't fuck the same girl twice (unless, of course, I want to. It's good to be the king). It also gives her the right to refuse if she doesn't want to have sex at a particular time and place, but since I make it clear that I'll only be able to service about half of the women on board during the course of the cruise, almost no one ever does for fear they won't be chosen a second time.
I put kilt back on and put a huge clock hung on a chain around my neck. We have learned that it works best to give me at least an hour of refractory time between fucks. Sometimes the Coolidge effect would permit me to perform sooner, but experience has shown that fucking again too quickly results in low sperm counts and low probability of fertilization. The clock around my neck acts as a countdown timer until the time I will again be looking for a partner. Between the kilt and the clock, I guess I must look kind of like a white, Irish Flava Flav. I don't care—when you've got what most women want and no one else can deliver, it doesn't matter how you look. In fact, I understand that kilts like mine are becoming a fashion statement in New York, as men try to convey to prospective mates an air of virility they only wish they still had.
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After the blonde, I had donated sperm to a brunette with big tits, another blonde, and a very young-looking, skinny Asian girl. It was now after lunch, time to do my duty again (darn!), and I was back out on the deck to select the girl I would do next.
My, there were a lot of beautiful women. Not surprising—prospective mothers are required to submit a photo when they apply for a berth on this cruise, and my staff screens them. I'm not gonna pick a fat ugly girl; it just seems cruel to even get her hopes up by accepting her cash for the cruise.
Most women fight for the seats where they are most likely to be seen. But way in the back corner, I thought I saw a glimpse of red. I headed that way, looking over the ladies and waving politely, and as I got closer I saw that way back, in the last row of chairs, was a spectacular natural redhead sitting next to a boyfriend or husband. She was looking at me anxiously like most girls do; I didn't look at him, but I sensed that he was scowling. I moved closer to confirm, and as I did I saw her pale skin against her jewel-green bikini, and wonderful freckles covered her flat belly. I picked her.
I walked up to her and asked for her ticked. Excited, the reached into her suit to pull it out. I started to take it, then I heard a sour voice behind me say "You've really got a nice racket going her, don't you."
"Roger, we've talked about this," she redhead hissed. "Stop it."
I half-turned to the man seated in the chair next to the redhead. "Excuse me?" I asked.
"You say you just want to ensure the survival of the human race. Then why don't you just donate your sperm, instead of using it as an excuse to sleep with another man's wife?" he said bitterly.
"As it happens, I do donate my sperm," I told him, "and you can't afford it. So I offer couples like other ways to try to have children. But if you don't want my help, there are plenty of other women here that do." I threw the ticket back at the girl and moved on.
I heard her yell "Goddamn it Roger, this was our only chance at having a family! DEAL WITH IT." Then, in violation of the rules, she ran after me, grabbed my hand, and pleaded with me. "Please, don't turn your back on me because of what my husband said. I really want to have a baby."
I looked at her, and saw that she was on the brink of tears. My handlers came up, prepared to remove her for breaking the rules, but I raised my hand telling them to hold off.
"Madam," I addressed her formally, "it seems clear that you and your husband are not on the same page with regard to the issue of parenthood. I am not willing to send a child into a family situation like that."
"Roger is a good man, and he'll be a great father," she pleaded. "He knows he can't father a child, and he's fine with raising any baby of mine. It's just...the having sex with you part he's having trouble with. You have to admit, not that long ago an arrangement like this would have been unheard of."
"That's the way the ship runs, and you agreed to those rules before you signed on," I replied.
"I do agree to those rules," she pleaded, pulling out and trying to give me her ticket. "I gave you my ticket...oh, maybe I should have just left Roger home..." She was fighting back tears.
She had agreed to fuck me, I'd turned her down because of what her husband had said. And she was a smoking hot redhead, my favorite flavor, so I was still interested in doing her. But I couldn't fuck her here and now; she was breaking the rules and if I rewarded her rules infraction by relenting I'd be mobbed by pussy next time I came on deck—and every woman on the ship it seemed was intently watching the drama unfold.
I called one of my handlers over, and whispered to him "Offer her Fantasy Room 2 at 8:00 tonight. Explain to her what will be expected, then tell her to take it or leave it."
The handler took her aside and started whispering in her ear. I saw her eyes get wide with fright as I walked off the deck and into the lower floors. Walking around below decks, I found a sandy-haired cutie with huge knockers and fucked her instead.
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I have a couple of special fantasy rooms—as in fulfilling my fantasies—on board the ship. The only time I make appointments during sex cruises is when I'm going to be using one of them.
Fantasy Room 2 is the bondage dungeon. Every now and then I like to tie a girl up and fuck her in the ass. If the redhead was going to get the sperm she wanted, she was going to have to earn it the hard way.
I was relaxing with Jill in my private quarters after dinner, waiting to hear if the redhead actually showed up; only about half of the girls I invite to the dungeon do. Truth is, I'm not into hurting a girl, I just like the feeling of being in control while she's restrained. But they don't know that, and a lot of them are too afraid to keep the appointment, even if it means giving up on perhaps their only chance at conception. This one must have been serious, though, because just after 8:00 there was a squawk on the ship's intercom to my room announcing that she had arrived the handlers were getting her prepared and into costume. Excellent, I thought to myself.
Jill turned on the closed-circuit TV in my room for me so I could watch. They were just bringing her in. She looked real good in the dungeon outfit: her fiery red hair cascaded loosely around her head, contrasting starkly with the leather slave collar with a single iron ring in the middle. She was given bracelets and anklets to match the collar, making it quite easy to restrain the wearer in any number of positions. She was wearing black fishnet stockings with black, clunk heels—sorry if I disappoint, I just like them better than boots. For now she was wearing a short, loose black PVC skirt, which would soon be easily removed using its full-length zipper. Her pale, flat belly and its cute little freckles suggested an innocence incongruous with her serious bondage gear. And to top it off, she had on a black leather cupless bra, which held up her pale breasts and their fragile pink nipples so that they jutted out proudly. I could see that if I used the crop on her, it would leave big red welts that would ruin the almost ethereal paleness of her skin. Eh...I'm not that big on the crop anyway.
"Ask them what her name is," I said to Jill. She raised an eyebrow slightly; usually I didn't care. She relayed the message anyway, then ducked into the bedroom to change into her outfit.
"Erin," came the reply a few minutes later. Of course...a beautiful redhead, named after Ireland.
Erin was led over the large, wooden "T" frame in the center of the room. She held out her arms at her sides while my handlers attached the iron rings of her anklets to the frame. Then they chained her ankles to its base, and left her there to wait for me.
I watched as her eyes, wide with fright, surveyed the implements in the room. Hanging on the walls of my dungeon are some truly frightening implements of torture—none of which I would in a million years actually use. But she doesn't know that, and the sicko in me likes to let her stand there for a while, looking around the room and growing ever more frightened that I will really hurt her.
I watched her gaze, knowing roughly what she could see depending on where she looked because I was so familiar with its layout. I decided that she must have no experience with bondage and could not fathom the purpose of most of the devices in the room. She would learn.
I called down on the intercom, telling my handlers to put on the blindfold. I watched as they re-entered the room, strapped a leather blindfold over her eyes, and left again. Jill came out now, dressed to do her part: black leather bustier, skin-tight black leather pants with zippers that permitted full access to her genitals if desired, black knee-high leather boots, and her hair tucked into a black motorcycle cap. With that I turned off the TV—it would take me about five minutes to walk down to the dungeon. I think by then she would have waited enough.
She could hear the door open and slam shut, then perhaps our footsteps as we walked up to her. I stopped in front of her, Jill to the side. We both stood there silently for a minute, watching as she strained to hear what she could not see. She should have felt my presence, but she had no idea what I was doing and what was taking so long.
Finally I touched her. I barely brushed my finger against her cheek. Then I ran my fingers downwards from her shoulders. When I reached her breasts, I gently touched the soft skin until the nipples started protruding. Once they were big enough to grasp, I grabbed each between my thumb and index finger, pulling just hard enough to be slightly uncomfortable, and twisting them until they were fully erect. Not expecting the sudden change, let out a small squeaking noise and tensed up, steeling herself for pain that didn't come.
Her nipples were wonderful, long and very pale pink in color. I licked one a few time before putting one in my mouth, sucking it, then gently biting it. Then just as suddenly I left her standing there, taking my seat in my heavy wooden throne chair. Jill knew this was her cue to remove Erin's blindfold. She saw me sitting in the throne, wearing black leather chaps and boots and nothing else, and tried not to be obvious when she gulped.
Jill unchained Erin from the T-frame, locking her hands together behind her as if she was handcuffed. Then she grabbed her by the arm and marched her up to my chair.
"So Erin," I said with disdain, "I take it you have worked things out with...Roger?"
She nodded, yes.
"You acknowledge that I am your master, and you will obey any command that I give you?" I continued.
She gulped again before nodding affirmatively.
I continued "The safe word is 'childless.' Should you fear for your safety and wish to end the scenario, say 'childless' and we shall stop. Of course, if you stop the scenario, you won't be getting what you came for, now will you? Do you understand?"
Another nod. I like using childless as a safe word, it reinforces the fact that that's what they'll be if they use it, and it makes them think twice before they do.
"Good, because I require some services from you."
Jill produced a leash, which she attached to the iron ring on Erin's slave collar and handed the end to me. Then she pointed to a spot right in front of the throne and told Erin to kneel there, which she did. Jill then chained her wristbands to the base of my throne and her ankles to two iron rings in the floor. Erin was now chained down on all fours, strategically placed with her face right in front of my crotch.
"Suck!" I commanded. Erin expected this, she kissed my cock, which wasn't yet hard, and licked it until it started responding. Then she took it into her mouth and started to suck on it. I held the leash in my hands; with it I controlled how far she could lift her head. For the moment, I gave her enough slack that she could have expelled my dick if she wanted. But she knew what she was here for, and the sooner I came the less of anything else she would have to endure, so she was doing her best to suck me off. And she was doing a pretty good job of it, too.
I gave Jill the secret sign. She retrieved a small box from its hiding place and took her position by Erin's posterior. I watched her work while Erin sucked me the best she knew how. The first thing she retrieved was a small vibrator, which she turned on and used to stimulate her clit. With a little effort, she penetrated Erin with two fingers—the holes in the fishnet were plenty large to allow them through—and when it started to get wet, Jill stuck the vibe in her pussy and left it there.
Next out was the lube. Jill took a little bit of lubricant and massaged it into the crack of Erin's ass. Then she took a little more and gently probed her ass until she was able to stick her finger into it. It was now ready for the ass plug—a shaped wedge that could be inserted into the ass and kept there to stretch the space in preparation for penetration.
I let Erin's leash go slack, grabbed her lustrous hair, and pulled it so that she had to let go of my dick and arch her head backwards. This was self-preservation; I didn't want my dick in her mouth when the first anal intrusion caught her by surprise. Seeing my dick was clear, Jill stuck the plug in her ass. Erin was indeed surprised, and made a sort of gurgling sound. I got in her face and said "Relax, slave, or it'll hurt a lot more. Now get on with your work." I stopped pulling her hair and instead pushed her head down onto my dick. She resumed sucking, working even harder now to try to get me to cum quickly and get this over with. I let her suck me for a while, watching the red mane bob up and down with her efforts. By design, her breasts were in easy reach; I squeezed them in my hands while she sucked.
Without warning I pulled her hair to get her off me again, then stood up and announced simply "The Sawhorse." I stood in the corner while Jill got her in position. She removed the leash first, then unchained the wristbands, again locking them together behind her back. Last she unlocked her ankles, then said "Stand up."
Jill led her over to what was basically an oversized sawhorse. She had Erin stand in front of the sawhorse, spread her legs, then chained the anklets to rings in its base. She chained her wristbands to rings at the far sides of the device. Then she attached a chain to the slave collar; it had a winch on the other end that allowed me to set the length of available chain, and in the process the angle at which she could stand. Jill cranked down so that the highest that Erin could lift her torso was perpendicular to the floor. Then she backed away and left her to me.
I came up on Erin from behind. In this position, about all you could see of her was her ass. I grabbed one of her cheeks under the skirt and squeezed it. Then I gave it a smack—enough to start to get it warm, not enough to actually cause damage. It was satisfyingly firm, so I smacked the other side. I lifted up her skirt so I could see better, then I smacked each cheek three more times. Reaching for the zipper, I removed the skirt entirely and threw it aside. I smacked each cheek once more, then grabbed the fishnet stockings and tore the middle open so that her crotch and ass were now in the open. I wiggled the butt plug slightly to get a feel for the amount of resistance, then walked around to the other side so I could grab Erin's tits and stick my dick down her throat some more.
Jill took over, spanking Erin lightly with what amounted to a ping-pong paddle, careful not to be hitting too hard lest Erin accidentally bite me. I let Erin suck me, again doing the best she could to try to get this over with quickly. Every time she took me in, I reached as far into her esophagus as I could reach. Her mouth was soft and warm on my dick; she looked up at me with green eyes while my dick stretched down her throat. It wasn't too before I was ready to violate her ass.
I stepped back and out of reach; I moved around to her backside on Erin's left while Jill stepped to the front on her right. Jill cranked the chain a little tighter, so she was having to bend down. Then she came around to me, helping me lube up my dick. Now ready, I stepped up to Erin, pulled out the ass plug, and quickly replaced it with my dick. Erin flinched and tightened up when my dick penetrated her, but the chains kept her from moving very far. It was screamingly tight at first, but after the first few strokes she relaxed a little, and I was able to get all the way in and fuck her ass. I grabbed her cheeks and watched my dick disappear into her tiny little hole. In and out I thrust, feeling that strong muscle squeeze me all the way up and down as I went. Again, her ass was satisfyingly firm as it responded to my thrusts into her rectum. I reached around and held her soft breasts in my hand while mauling her ass over and over again. The pale skin of her butt cheeks turned pink in response to my collisions with it; that made me even harder, and I fucked her more forcefully.
Erin was in a rather uncomfortable position, and not just because my dick was buried in her colon. She was also getting worried; she came her in the hopes of getting pregnant, and obviously if I came in her ass that wouldn't get the job done. As I said, I'm not about hurting a girl, I just like to be in control. So I said to Jill "sling" and pulled out.
Jill worked quickly, unchaining all five restrains. Then she brought Erin over to a hammock-like web of straps hanging from the ceiling. She had Erin sit in the sling, the chained first her wrists then her ankles to rings near the top of the sling. When she was finished, Erin was lying face-up in the sling, her arms and legs up in the air chained to support straps, and her crotch wide open and on display. I came over to Erin, pulled out the vibrator, and fucked her pussy for a while. Her pussy was pretty inviting, I had to admit. She had partially shaved her red pubes as directed, but there was a little copper crown of hair sitting above her crotch and it was very cute—especially when my dick disappeared into it. Erin was funny; she wanted me to cum in her box, so she made a point of being lively and responsive when I was fucking her there. Too bad--I wasn't done with her ass yet. I did want to cum in her pussy, though, and wanted to make sure I could re-enter it quickly when the time came. Having the vibrator in there all this time, she was plenty wet and I had no trouble penetrating her.
Satisfied I could change orifices when needed, I pulled out of the top hole and once again shoved my dick into the bottom one. Hanging in the air, strapped to the sling, she was all but powerless to do anything but take what I was giving. I fucked her ass while she was face up, but I worked her clit with my thumb to make sure she didn't dry out all of a sudden. I looked at Erin while I worked her; her face was apprehensive and damp, although I couldn't tell if it was from sweat, tears, or both. But her tight ass felt wonderful gripping my erection, and I gleefully slid it in and out of her poop chute. Then I noticed that her nipples, perky little troopers that they were, were still erect and quite fetching strapped in to the sling. I reached for one and played with it; I think it liked me. It was pink, pale like the rest of her skin. I kept fucking her ass, but now I noticed that she even had little freckles on her tits. I held her nipple more firmly in my finger now and fucked harder; her tits were bounced just the right amount in response. I looked up at her pretty face; she had close her eyes now, her red hair tossed back and hanging down out of the straps of the sling. She was curling her tailbone up slightly so that my dick was penetrating her butt more efficiently. She was fucking beautiful.
Then I felt my scrotum start to tighten up. I grabbed Erin's hips in the sling and fucked her ass hard for about a dozen strokes. Then, just when another stroke would have triggered my orgasm, I pulled out of her ass and stuffed it back into her pussy. She opened her eyes now and looked at me; I thing she could feel that the moment of truth was about to arrive. It took a couple of minutes inside her pussy to build back up to that point again, but this time when I reached it I let my self go. I felt my dick get extra-hard. I grabbed Erin by the waist, pulling her torso towards me while simultaneously stretching my dick as far as I could. With my dick as far into her as I could manage, my orgasm arrived and I deposited my seed deep into her belly.
I stayed inside for a few seconds after I finished, in case there was a late spurt—I wanted to get as much sperm into her as possible, that's what she had come for (no pun intended). She was looking at me with a jumble of emotions; happiness that I had given her my seed, trepidation at whether I had more in store for her, and between my dick and the vibrator, at least a little arousal. I touched her wonderful breasts gently, then stoked her cheek; still strapped in, I could have done anything to her I wanted. But I had already done what I wanted, so I pulled out and began to undo her wristbands. My master persona was gone; now I was just plain old me.
"I'm sorry if that was a little rougher than you're used to," I told her. She was still quivering. I touched her face gently, which mostly just confused her—what kind of guy was I really?
"Jill, can you get me an assurance card please?" I asked. Jill made a sign in the direction of the closed-circuit camera, and in a few minutes one of my other handlers entered the room with a red card that he handed to Jill and she handed to me.
Erin was unstrapped now, sitting in the sling like it really was a hammock. I had taken off her slave collar and handed her the card while Jill started removing the ankle restraints. "This is an assurance card," I explained to the still somewhat frightened but now also confused redhead. "It is my assurance that I will do everything in my power to ensure that you get the baby you desire. We will be tracking you to see if you become pregnant after this cruise. If you do not, you have a special passcode on this card. You can use it to obtain one free vial of sperm that you can use to attempt artificial insemination.
She stopped shaking now as she held the card carefully in her hands, intently listening to my instructions as to what it was for.
"If you don't want to take a chance with artificial insemination or can't afford the cost, you can also use this card to get into any of my future fertilization events, free of charge. That means you could take another cruise, or attend one of our traveling weekends—as many events as you want until you become pregnant. And, as an assurance card holder, you are guaranteed to receive at least one insemination attempt at each event."
A minute ago she was frightened of me, afraid I would hurt her, and sure I was a jerk. Now, I was giving her a virtual guarantee that she would have the child she desired, even if it took multiple attempts to accomplish. Everything she thought she had figured out about me suddenly seemed to be wrong. "I...I don't know what to say..." she stammered.
"You've earned it," I said, giving her butt a playful tap, "we'll do everything we can to get you that baby you want."
My other handlers now entered the room, bringing Erin's regular clothes with them. Jill and I left them to finish helping Erin take off the bondage ensemble and return to her business.
As we walked down the hall to my quarters together, Jill said "You're turning into a softie. You gave her an assurance card, you weren't even rough with her." Since selling sperm was a major source of the income needed to keep my organization afloat, part of Jill's job was to make sure I didn't give too much of it away for free.
I looked at her as I put my big clock on and said "I know, but I felt bad for her. Maybe because she reminded me of you." I winked at Jill, my left-hand girl and secretly my lover.
Jill took off her hat, allowing her gorgeous red hair to cascade down on her shoulders. "I knew something was up when you asked for her name. You really are a sucker for redheads."
"You would know that better than anyone, now wouldn't you?" I smiled. "Fear not, my dear—in every possible way, you are truly irreplaceable."
She gave me a little smile, then pushed her bustier down to reveal her own substantial, pale, pink-nippled breasts. I stepped over to her and began to kiss her, gently stroking her left nipple in my right hand at the same time. It was beginning to look like the 10:00 show would be a private screening...
The Sex Boat
I came out on deck by the forward pool and took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. Checking that my handlers were with me, it was time to get down to business. There were probably twenty young women in the forward pool area, most lying out on deck chairs tanning and hoping I would appear. By now, most of them probably would have recognized my face even if my unique "swimwear" hadn't given away my identity.
All eyes were on me now as I made my selection. They had all been instructed not to rush me or mob me; they had been told to keep going about their business, but that wasn't realistic to expect. Some were trying to stand out from the others, wetting their lips or pretending to suck one of their fingers like a dick. I actually had had more bad experiences with the overzealous ones, so that kind of thing usually reduces your chances of being selected. Unless, of course, they're really good at it. Fact is, there really isn't any formula to ensure that you'll be selected, and I very explicitly don't promise that everyone will be. But I do get to a lot of girls over the course of a four-day cruise; if you're young, hot, and visible (that is, spending a lot of time in places where I'm likely to run into you) there's a good chance you'll get your turn. It helps to have red hair, too, but the word has somehow gotten out about that so now I see a lot of bottle reds at my appearances. Since you can dye the hair but you can't reproduce the skin tone, it's usually only real reds that benefit from this particular preference of mine.
That morning, however, my eyes quickly locked on to a young skinny blonde with long straight hair. She was lying face-up in a deck chair, wearing a blue string bikini, one leg bent and one leg straight. I liked the definition of her abs; her moderate breasts appeared much larger by contrast with her flat stomach. I walked over to the side of her deck chair and asked for her ticket. She hadn't expected to be selected, and wasn't really ready, but she knew she might not get the chance again and didn't want to pass it up. She had tucked her ticket into her swimsuit, as many do; she pulled it out and handed it to me.
As soon as I took her ticket my handlers were there with the privacy screens—four medical folding screens that can in seconds completely seal off the area from outside viewing. Once we were "in private," I pulled the release on the modified kilt I wear for easy removal and, as instructed, she stroked my dick a few times and then began to suck it. Ahhhhh....no matter how many girls a day I fuck, I'll never get tired of that sensation when a new girl first takes me into her mouth. I could see now that she was very young, probably just over the minimum age restriction, and that made me harder. I reached for her suit to liberate the nearer of her tits and began playing with her nipple. She was sitting up now, legs on either side of her deck chair, looking up at me while she sucked my dick. This one shouldn't take long at all.
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In case you just dropped in from Mars or something, I guess a little explanation is necessary. I am the last fertile man on earth. The great Kurt Vonnegut once wrote a novel in which the human race went extinct in one generation because of a virus that destroyed women's eggs; he very nearly proved prophetic. The only difference is that the virus actually invades and becomes dormant in the cells that produce sperm. Infected men's sperm counts drop, but the real problem is that the virus causes sperm to be produced with crooked flagella, rendering them for all intents and purposes immobile, and sperm that can't swim don't fertilize eggs. By some accident of genetics—one that scientists are feverishly trying to understand—I am resistant to the virus. So far, I am the only known human male with this resistance—thus I am the last fertile man on earth. Sure, once in a while someone else still gets his wife or girlfriend pregnant, but for that to happen the egg has to chance into the sperm rather than the other way around. In vitro fertilization is still possible and is practiced, but unless it's sperm that I have provided these "test tube babies" are all be susceptible to the virus (while in theory, at least half of the children I father should be resistant). To control the frequency of the practice while also generating revenue, the government has introduced high tariffs on in vitro fertilization, making it prohibitively expensive for most. All in all, the birth of a baby is front-page news in all but the largest of cities nowadays.
While lawmakers around the globe try to figure out how to plan for a million-fold decline in population in the next 50 years, it is it my duty to try to preserve our species by fathering as many children as possible. The government agrees, and has passed all kinds regarding "fruitful males," protecting me like an endangered species and exempting me from many laws. I can legally have sex in public in any state of the union, for instance, and am immune from paternity obligations. But the fact that there are millions of women that want children in the United States alone and just one of me presents a distribution problem. So we have had to come up with novel ways of allowing me to come into contact with large but manageable numbers of women that want to have children, and further (since my resources are limited) to maximize the likelihood that intercourse results in conception. Sex cruises like this one have been one of the most successful methods of distribution; records show that I have fathered up to 30 children on just one four-day cruise. I'm just doing my part to save the human race; it just so happens that my part means I have to fuck as many women as physically possible.
In one of Mel Brooks' movies, the King of France famously said "It's good to be the king." He was right.
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What the blond lacked in oral sophistication she made up for in raw energy; she sucked with a simple, straightforward in-out motion, but at a very arousing tempo. I was ready for intercourse, but she wasn't; caught off-guard, she was thinking about sucking me hadn't even thought to start masturbating. Rather than waste precious time getting her aroused, I called for my personal assistant, Jill.
Jill is tall and thin, with long red hair, subtle freckles, and impressive tits. Hotter than a smelting furnace, Jill is my girl Friday, always close by and ready to lend a hand—literally, if necessary. You might say she's my right-hand man, but I prefer to call her my left-hand girl, because as long as she's around I never have to resort to using my left hand, if you know what I mean. She's always around to do whatever is needed facilitate my population maintenance efforts, whether it be warming up a prospective mother that isn't ready for sex, or extracting samples for artificial inseminations.
Jill came in to the screened area and knelt between the blonde's legs. We gently guided her to lay back on the deck chair; I moved so should still suck while lying down, while Jill pulled aside her bikini bottoms and began to lick her pussy. You might expect there to be some objections to having a woman provide cunnilingus, but its one of the many things prospective mothers agree to in their pre-boarding waivers packet. Besides, in taking this cruise they are hoping to get the chance to have sex with a man they've never met at a moment's notice; a little girl-on-girl action on the side is a drop in the bucket.
Thanks to the assistance of Jill's tongue, the blonde was starting to get wet. I pulled her other nipple out of her suit and played with it, letting her keep sucking me. I looked over at Jill who gave me the high sign—she was ready. I pulled out of the blonde's mouth, then knelt on the foot of the deck chair. She pulled her legs up to her chest. I put my hands on the armrests while Jill, helpful as always, lined up my dick with the blonde's snatch. I felt a soft wetness at the very tip of my cock and Jill letting go, so I must be in position. I pushed forward and my dick sunk easily into the young girl's pussy.
Propped up on the arms of the chair, I looked at the blonde's face—was she really 21? She looked like she could still be in high school. Well, she had to prove her age to get on board, she must be. I kept pumping her, scanning further down her body. Her breasts were nice, her legs arguably nicer. She had her eyes closed—most girls do, maybe its unsettling to look up at a stranger fucking you. She was also biting her lower lip as I thrust into her.
I have to say, one thing I do miss when I'm doing my duty like this: between the emphasis on timeliness and the fact that we are complete strangers fucking, I almost never get to see a girl have an orgasm anymore. Sometimes I'll take Jill aside just for fun and lick her copper box until she cums, but since I fuck all day long I usually want to do something other than fuck in my down time.
I decided that I wanted the girl to put her legs on my shoulders. They were quite nice and shapely since they were so skinny; I kissed one of her calves as it lay on my shoulder, pumping her the whole time. Peering between her legs at her face, I could see that she was actually starting to get into it now. I often catch girls unprepared at first, but once my dick has been pounding her pussy for a while a lot of them eventually get into it.
She was so skinny, I suddenly thought, I bet she could do the splits. I had her grab her legs just above the ankle, then spread them as far to the side as she could without bending them. Wow...she was flexible. Her legs looked a lot more like a straight line across than like a letter 'V' when she spread them. I grabbed her hips, and started fucking her intensely. She was so light, I could easily pick her whole bottom up off the chair and hold it into just the right position to fuck. She was starting to involuntarily make noises now, and opened her eyes to look at me; her expression was a combination of wonder and surprise. Whoever she usually fucked must be pretty vanilla, I thought, because her expression seemed to indicate she didn't know sex could be like this.
But her getting into it was really sexy to look at, and suddenly I knew the orgasm was about to hit. I stopped thrusting, instead pushing myself as deeply into her as I could, so that my penis was right up against the cervix when I ejaculated. I felt the familiar tightening of my balls, followed by the pleasurable waves as my dick unloaded into her pussy. With any luck, she would conceive.
I pulled out and stood up; Jill was there with a wet towel and dry one and helped me clean up my junk. Other handlers escorted in a young man, who dropped to his knees and started licking the blonde's pussy. A woman's orgasm helps suck the sperm into the uterus, so we encourage significant others to lick their woman to orgasm after I have delivered my seed. They are prohibited from having sex with her themselves for at least 24 hours, or risk undermining my fertilization.
Trying not to disrupt the activity on the chair, Jill snapped an orange wristband around the girl's ankle, indicating that I had already fucked her. When I take a girl's ticket, it provides both a tracking system, together with the orange wristband, ensures that I don't fuck the same girl twice (unless, of course, I want to. It's good to be the king). It also gives her the right to refuse if she doesn't want to have sex at a particular time and place, but since I make it clear that I'll only be able to service about half of the women on board during the course of the cruise, almost no one ever does for fear they won't be chosen a second time.
I put kilt back on and put a huge clock hung on a chain around my neck. We have learned that it works best to give me at least an hour of refractory time between fucks. Sometimes the Coolidge effect would permit me to perform sooner, but experience has shown that fucking again too quickly results in low sperm counts and low probability of fertilization. The clock around my neck acts as a countdown timer until the time I will again be looking for a partner. Between the kilt and the clock, I guess I must look kind of like a white, Irish Flava Flav. I don't care—when you've got what most women want and no one else can deliver, it doesn't matter how you look. In fact, I understand that kilts like mine are becoming a fashion statement in New York, as men try to convey to prospective mates an air of virility they only wish they still had.
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After the blonde, I had donated sperm to a brunette with big tits, another blonde, and a very young-looking, skinny Asian girl. It was now after lunch, time to do my duty again (darn!), and I was back out on the deck to select the girl I would do next.
My, there were a lot of beautiful women. Not surprising—prospective mothers are required to submit a photo when they apply for a berth on this cruise, and my staff screens them. I'm not gonna pick a fat ugly girl; it just seems cruel to even get her hopes up by accepting her cash for the cruise.
Most women fight for the seats where they are most likely to be seen. But way in the back corner, I thought I saw a glimpse of red. I headed that way, looking over the ladies and waving politely, and as I got closer I saw that way back, in the last row of chairs, was a spectacular natural redhead sitting next to a boyfriend or husband. She was looking at me anxiously like most girls do; I didn't look at him, but I sensed that he was scowling. I moved closer to confirm, and as I did I saw her pale skin against her jewel-green bikini, and wonderful freckles covered her flat belly. I picked her.
I walked up to her and asked for her ticked. Excited, the reached into her suit to pull it out. I started to take it, then I heard a sour voice behind me say "You've really got a nice racket going her, don't you."
"Roger, we've talked about this," she redhead hissed. "Stop it."
I half-turned to the man seated in the chair next to the redhead. "Excuse me?" I asked.
"You say you just want to ensure the survival of the human race. Then why don't you just donate your sperm, instead of using it as an excuse to sleep with another man's wife?" he said bitterly.
"As it happens, I do donate my sperm," I told him, "and you can't afford it. So I offer couples like other ways to try to have children. But if you don't want my help, there are plenty of other women here that do." I threw the ticket back at the girl and moved on.
I heard her yell "Goddamn it Roger, this was our only chance at having a family! DEAL WITH IT." Then, in violation of the rules, she ran after me, grabbed my hand, and pleaded with me. "Please, don't turn your back on me because of what my husband said. I really want to have a baby."
I looked at her, and saw that she was on the brink of tears. My handlers came up, prepared to remove her for breaking the rules, but I raised my hand telling them to hold off.
"Madam," I addressed her formally, "it seems clear that you and your husband are not on the same page with regard to the issue of parenthood. I am not willing to send a child into a family situation like that."
"Roger is a good man, and he'll be a great father," she pleaded. "He knows he can't father a child, and he's fine with raising any baby of mine. It's just...the having sex with you part he's having trouble with. You have to admit, not that long ago an arrangement like this would have been unheard of."
"That's the way the ship runs, and you agreed to those rules before you signed on," I replied.
"I do agree to those rules," she pleaded, pulling out and trying to give me her ticket. "I gave you my ticket...oh, maybe I should have just left Roger home..." She was fighting back tears.
She had agreed to fuck me, I'd turned her down because of what her husband had said. And she was a smoking hot redhead, my favorite flavor, so I was still interested in doing her. But I couldn't fuck her here and now; she was breaking the rules and if I rewarded her rules infraction by relenting I'd be mobbed by pussy next time I came on deck—and every woman on the ship it seemed was intently watching the drama unfold.
I called one of my handlers over, and whispered to him "Offer her Fantasy Room 2 at 8:00 tonight. Explain to her what will be expected, then tell her to take it or leave it."
The handler took her aside and started whispering in her ear. I saw her eyes get wide with fright as I walked off the deck and into the lower floors. Walking around below decks, I found a sandy-haired cutie with huge knockers and fucked her instead.
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I have a couple of special fantasy rooms—as in fulfilling my fantasies—on board the ship. The only time I make appointments during sex cruises is when I'm going to be using one of them.
Fantasy Room 2 is the bondage dungeon. Every now and then I like to tie a girl up and fuck her in the ass. If the redhead was going to get the sperm she wanted, she was going to have to earn it the hard way.
I was relaxing with Jill in my private quarters after dinner, waiting to hear if the redhead actually showed up; only about half of the girls I invite to the dungeon do. Truth is, I'm not into hurting a girl, I just like the feeling of being in control while she's restrained. But they don't know that, and a lot of them are too afraid to keep the appointment, even if it means giving up on perhaps their only chance at conception. This one must have been serious, though, because just after 8:00 there was a squawk on the ship's intercom to my room announcing that she had arrived the handlers were getting her prepared and into costume. Excellent, I thought to myself.
Jill turned on the closed-circuit TV in my room for me so I could watch. They were just bringing her in. She looked real good in the dungeon outfit: her fiery red hair cascaded loosely around her head, contrasting starkly with the leather slave collar with a single iron ring in the middle. She was given bracelets and anklets to match the collar, making it quite easy to restrain the wearer in any number of positions. She was wearing black fishnet stockings with black, clunk heels—sorry if I disappoint, I just like them better than boots. For now she was wearing a short, loose black PVC skirt, which would soon be easily removed using its full-length zipper. Her pale, flat belly and its cute little freckles suggested an innocence incongruous with her serious bondage gear. And to top it off, she had on a black leather cupless bra, which held up her pale breasts and their fragile pink nipples so that they jutted out proudly. I could see that if I used the crop on her, it would leave big red welts that would ruin the almost ethereal paleness of her skin. Eh...I'm not that big on the crop anyway.
"Ask them what her name is," I said to Jill. She raised an eyebrow slightly; usually I didn't care. She relayed the message anyway, then ducked into the bedroom to change into her outfit.
"Erin," came the reply a few minutes later. Of course...a beautiful redhead, named after Ireland.
Erin was led over the large, wooden "T" frame in the center of the room. She held out her arms at her sides while my handlers attached the iron rings of her anklets to the frame. Then they chained her ankles to its base, and left her there to wait for me.
I watched as her eyes, wide with fright, surveyed the implements in the room. Hanging on the walls of my dungeon are some truly frightening implements of torture—none of which I would in a million years actually use. But she doesn't know that, and the sicko in me likes to let her stand there for a while, looking around the room and growing ever more frightened that I will really hurt her.
I watched her gaze, knowing roughly what she could see depending on where she looked because I was so familiar with its layout. I decided that she must have no experience with bondage and could not fathom the purpose of most of the devices in the room. She would learn.
I called down on the intercom, telling my handlers to put on the blindfold. I watched as they re-entered the room, strapped a leather blindfold over her eyes, and left again. Jill came out now, dressed to do her part: black leather bustier, skin-tight black leather pants with zippers that permitted full access to her genitals if desired, black knee-high leather boots, and her hair tucked into a black motorcycle cap. With that I turned off the TV—it would take me about five minutes to walk down to the dungeon. I think by then she would have waited enough.
She could hear the door open and slam shut, then perhaps our footsteps as we walked up to her. I stopped in front of her, Jill to the side. We both stood there silently for a minute, watching as she strained to hear what she could not see. She should have felt my presence, but she had no idea what I was doing and what was taking so long.
Finally I touched her. I barely brushed my finger against her cheek. Then I ran my fingers downwards from her shoulders. When I reached her breasts, I gently touched the soft skin until the nipples started protruding. Once they were big enough to grasp, I grabbed each between my thumb and index finger, pulling just hard enough to be slightly uncomfortable, and twisting them until they were fully erect. Not expecting the sudden change, let out a small squeaking noise and tensed up, steeling herself for pain that didn't come.
Her nipples were wonderful, long and very pale pink in color. I licked one a few time before putting one in my mouth, sucking it, then gently biting it. Then just as suddenly I left her standing there, taking my seat in my heavy wooden throne chair. Jill knew this was her cue to remove Erin's blindfold. She saw me sitting in the throne, wearing black leather chaps and boots and nothing else, and tried not to be obvious when she gulped.
Jill unchained Erin from the T-frame, locking her hands together behind her as if she was handcuffed. Then she grabbed her by the arm and marched her up to my chair.
"So Erin," I said with disdain, "I take it you have worked things out with...Roger?"
She nodded, yes.
"You acknowledge that I am your master, and you will obey any command that I give you?" I continued.
She gulped again before nodding affirmatively.
I continued "The safe word is 'childless.' Should you fear for your safety and wish to end the scenario, say 'childless' and we shall stop. Of course, if you stop the scenario, you won't be getting what you came for, now will you? Do you understand?"
Another nod. I like using childless as a safe word, it reinforces the fact that that's what they'll be if they use it, and it makes them think twice before they do.
"Good, because I require some services from you."
Jill produced a leash, which she attached to the iron ring on Erin's slave collar and handed the end to me. Then she pointed to a spot right in front of the throne and told Erin to kneel there, which she did. Jill then chained her wristbands to the base of my throne and her ankles to two iron rings in the floor. Erin was now chained down on all fours, strategically placed with her face right in front of my crotch.
"Suck!" I commanded. Erin expected this, she kissed my cock, which wasn't yet hard, and licked it until it started responding. Then she took it into her mouth and started to suck on it. I held the leash in my hands; with it I controlled how far she could lift her head. For the moment, I gave her enough slack that she could have expelled my dick if she wanted. But she knew what she was here for, and the sooner I came the less of anything else she would have to endure, so she was doing her best to suck me off. And she was doing a pretty good job of it, too.
I gave Jill the secret sign. She retrieved a small box from its hiding place and took her position by Erin's posterior. I watched her work while Erin sucked me the best she knew how. The first thing she retrieved was a small vibrator, which she turned on and used to stimulate her clit. With a little effort, she penetrated Erin with two fingers—the holes in the fishnet were plenty large to allow them through—and when it started to get wet, Jill stuck the vibe in her pussy and left it there.
Next out was the lube. Jill took a little bit of lubricant and massaged it into the crack of Erin's ass. Then she took a little more and gently probed her ass until she was able to stick her finger into it. It was now ready for the ass plug—a shaped wedge that could be inserted into the ass and kept there to stretch the space in preparation for penetration.
I let Erin's leash go slack, grabbed her lustrous hair, and pulled it so that she had to let go of my dick and arch her head backwards. This was self-preservation; I didn't want my dick in her mouth when the first anal intrusion caught her by surprise. Seeing my dick was clear, Jill stuck the plug in her ass. Erin was indeed surprised, and made a sort of gurgling sound. I got in her face and said "Relax, slave, or it'll hurt a lot more. Now get on with your work." I stopped pulling her hair and instead pushed her head down onto my dick. She resumed sucking, working even harder now to try to get me to cum quickly and get this over with. I let her suck me for a while, watching the red mane bob up and down with her efforts. By design, her breasts were in easy reach; I squeezed them in my hands while she sucked.
Without warning I pulled her hair to get her off me again, then stood up and announced simply "The Sawhorse." I stood in the corner while Jill got her in position. She removed the leash first, then unchained the wristbands, again locking them together behind her back. Last she unlocked her ankles, then said "Stand up."
Jill led her over to what was basically an oversized sawhorse. She had Erin stand in front of the sawhorse, spread her legs, then chained the anklets to rings in its base. She chained her wristbands to rings at the far sides of the device. Then she attached a chain to the slave collar; it had a winch on the other end that allowed me to set the length of available chain, and in the process the angle at which she could stand. Jill cranked down so that the highest that Erin could lift her torso was perpendicular to the floor. Then she backed away and left her to me.
I came up on Erin from behind. In this position, about all you could see of her was her ass. I grabbed one of her cheeks under the skirt and squeezed it. Then I gave it a smack—enough to start to get it warm, not enough to actually cause damage. It was satisfyingly firm, so I smacked the other side. I lifted up her skirt so I could see better, then I smacked each cheek three more times. Reaching for the zipper, I removed the skirt entirely and threw it aside. I smacked each cheek once more, then grabbed the fishnet stockings and tore the middle open so that her crotch and ass were now in the open. I wiggled the butt plug slightly to get a feel for the amount of resistance, then walked around to the other side so I could grab Erin's tits and stick my dick down her throat some more.
Jill took over, spanking Erin lightly with what amounted to a ping-pong paddle, careful not to be hitting too hard lest Erin accidentally bite me. I let Erin suck me, again doing the best she could to try to get this over with quickly. Every time she took me in, I reached as far into her esophagus as I could reach. Her mouth was soft and warm on my dick; she looked up at me with green eyes while my dick stretched down her throat. It wasn't too before I was ready to violate her ass.
I stepped back and out of reach; I moved around to her backside on Erin's left while Jill stepped to the front on her right. Jill cranked the chain a little tighter, so she was having to bend down. Then she came around to me, helping me lube up my dick. Now ready, I stepped up to Erin, pulled out the ass plug, and quickly replaced it with my dick. Erin flinched and tightened up when my dick penetrated her, but the chains kept her from moving very far. It was screamingly tight at first, but after the first few strokes she relaxed a little, and I was able to get all the way in and fuck her ass. I grabbed her cheeks and watched my dick disappear into her tiny little hole. In and out I thrust, feeling that strong muscle squeeze me all the way up and down as I went. Again, her ass was satisfyingly firm as it responded to my thrusts into her rectum. I reached around and held her soft breasts in my hand while mauling her ass over and over again. The pale skin of her butt cheeks turned pink in response to my collisions with it; that made me even harder, and I fucked her more forcefully.
Erin was in a rather uncomfortable position, and not just because my dick was buried in her colon. She was also getting worried; she came her in the hopes of getting pregnant, and obviously if I came in her ass that wouldn't get the job done. As I said, I'm not about hurting a girl, I just like to be in control. So I said to Jill "sling" and pulled out.
Jill worked quickly, unchaining all five restrains. Then she brought Erin over to a hammock-like web of straps hanging from the ceiling. She had Erin sit in the sling, the chained first her wrists then her ankles to rings near the top of the sling. When she was finished, Erin was lying face-up in the sling, her arms and legs up in the air chained to support straps, and her crotch wide open and on display. I came over to Erin, pulled out the vibrator, and fucked her pussy for a while. Her pussy was pretty inviting, I had to admit. She had partially shaved her red pubes as directed, but there was a little copper crown of hair sitting above her crotch and it was very cute—especially when my dick disappeared into it. Erin was funny; she wanted me to cum in her box, so she made a point of being lively and responsive when I was fucking her there. Too bad--I wasn't done with her ass yet. I did want to cum in her pussy, though, and wanted to make sure I could re-enter it quickly when the time came. Having the vibrator in there all this time, she was plenty wet and I had no trouble penetrating her.
Satisfied I could change orifices when needed, I pulled out of the top hole and once again shoved my dick into the bottom one. Hanging in the air, strapped to the sling, she was all but powerless to do anything but take what I was giving. I fucked her ass while she was face up, but I worked her clit with my thumb to make sure she didn't dry out all of a sudden. I looked at Erin while I worked her; her face was apprehensive and damp, although I couldn't tell if it was from sweat, tears, or both. But her tight ass felt wonderful gripping my erection, and I gleefully slid it in and out of her poop chute. Then I noticed that her nipples, perky little troopers that they were, were still erect and quite fetching strapped in to the sling. I reached for one and played with it; I think it liked me. It was pink, pale like the rest of her skin. I kept fucking her ass, but now I noticed that she even had little freckles on her tits. I held her nipple more firmly in my finger now and fucked harder; her tits were bounced just the right amount in response. I looked up at her pretty face; she had close her eyes now, her red hair tossed back and hanging down out of the straps of the sling. She was curling her tailbone up slightly so that my dick was penetrating her butt more efficiently. She was fucking beautiful.
Then I felt my scrotum start to tighten up. I grabbed Erin's hips in the sling and fucked her ass hard for about a dozen strokes. Then, just when another stroke would have triggered my orgasm, I pulled out of her ass and stuffed it back into her pussy. She opened her eyes now and looked at me; I thing she could feel that the moment of truth was about to arrive. It took a couple of minutes inside her pussy to build back up to that point again, but this time when I reached it I let my self go. I felt my dick get extra-hard. I grabbed Erin by the waist, pulling her torso towards me while simultaneously stretching my dick as far as I could. With my dick as far into her as I could manage, my orgasm arrived and I deposited my seed deep into her belly.
I stayed inside for a few seconds after I finished, in case there was a late spurt—I wanted to get as much sperm into her as possible, that's what she had come for (no pun intended). She was looking at me with a jumble of emotions; happiness that I had given her my seed, trepidation at whether I had more in store for her, and between my dick and the vibrator, at least a little arousal. I touched her wonderful breasts gently, then stoked her cheek; still strapped in, I could have done anything to her I wanted. But I had already done what I wanted, so I pulled out and began to undo her wristbands. My master persona was gone; now I was just plain old me.
"I'm sorry if that was a little rougher than you're used to," I told her. She was still quivering. I touched her face gently, which mostly just confused her—what kind of guy was I really?
"Jill, can you get me an assurance card please?" I asked. Jill made a sign in the direction of the closed-circuit camera, and in a few minutes one of my other handlers entered the room with a red card that he handed to Jill and she handed to me.
Erin was unstrapped now, sitting in the sling like it really was a hammock. I had taken off her slave collar and handed her the card while Jill started removing the ankle restraints. "This is an assurance card," I explained to the still somewhat frightened but now also confused redhead. "It is my assurance that I will do everything in my power to ensure that you get the baby you desire. We will be tracking you to see if you become pregnant after this cruise. If you do not, you have a special passcode on this card. You can use it to obtain one free vial of sperm that you can use to attempt artificial insemination.
She stopped shaking now as she held the card carefully in her hands, intently listening to my instructions as to what it was for.
"If you don't want to take a chance with artificial insemination or can't afford the cost, you can also use this card to get into any of my future fertilization events, free of charge. That means you could take another cruise, or attend one of our traveling weekends—as many events as you want until you become pregnant. And, as an assurance card holder, you are guaranteed to receive at least one insemination attempt at each event."
A minute ago she was frightened of me, afraid I would hurt her, and sure I was a jerk. Now, I was giving her a virtual guarantee that she would have the child she desired, even if it took multiple attempts to accomplish. Everything she thought she had figured out about me suddenly seemed to be wrong. "I...I don't know what to say..." she stammered.
"You've earned it," I said, giving her butt a playful tap, "we'll do everything we can to get you that baby you want."
My other handlers now entered the room, bringing Erin's regular clothes with them. Jill and I left them to finish helping Erin take off the bondage ensemble and return to her business.
As we walked down the hall to my quarters together, Jill said "You're turning into a softie. You gave her an assurance card, you weren't even rough with her." Since selling sperm was a major source of the income needed to keep my organization afloat, part of Jill's job was to make sure I didn't give too much of it away for free.
I looked at her as I put my big clock on and said "I know, but I felt bad for her. Maybe because she reminded me of you." I winked at Jill, my left-hand girl and secretly my lover.
Jill took off her hat, allowing her gorgeous red hair to cascade down on her shoulders. "I knew something was up when you asked for her name. You really are a sucker for redheads."
"You would know that better than anyone, now wouldn't you?" I smiled. "Fear not, my dear—in every possible way, you are truly irreplaceable."
She gave me a little smile, then pushed her bustier down to reveal her own substantial, pale, pink-nippled breasts. I stepped over to her and began to kiss her, gently stroking her left nipple in my right hand at the same time. It was beginning to look like the 10:00 show would be a private screening...