Susan and Penny stand smartly at ease on the forward deck of the Sea Maiden. It is a bright and sunny June morning with a light south-westerly breeze which causes the well-scrubbed deck planking beneath their parted feet to ease slightly up and down. A large gull wheels overhead, then swoops in to land in the rigging some five feet in front of the girls. Susan’s eyes take it in without moving. What type of gull is that? They are supposed to know about seabirds, supposed to have remembered what was in that book of Mr Calway. He could easily ask, and if they don’t know of course… if she, Susan, doesn’t know…
Both girls are in T.S. Viceroy uniform. White short-sleeved tops and matching brief shorts; sailor caps set squarely on their heads; white ankle-socks and trainers. The tops and shorts are ultra-tight and form-fitting; also you don’t wear anything underneath, no knickers or bra, nothing. Nipples under the two tautly-stretched tops are clearly visible; round behind are the clefts of bottoms; whilst in front at the shorts’ brief Vs at the tops of plump thighs the eye can even make out those central vertical indentations, so tight are the two pairs of shorts. Girls at T.S. Viceroy must always wear uniforms as form-fitting as this: Mr Calway’s strict instructions. The shorts are so tight that it is always a bit of a struggle getting them down. And they tend to have to come down quite a lot; at T.S. Viceroy there is an awful lot of taking down of shorts. Not to mention of course taking off of tops as well.
The gull after briefly peering around and evidently deciding there is nothing for it here, takes off with a squawk. Susan observes this with some relief: she thinks it was a herring gull but is by no means sure. And Mr Calway of course is due out here on deck at any moment, after having his drink with Mr Mylforth. It could very easily be: ‘And what bird is that, Susan?’ And if: ‘Uh… herring gull, Mr Calway,’ not spoken with any great assurance is in fact incorrect… well, Susan is all too well aware how Mr Calway would probably seek to instil the correct identification into her. Yes, by requiring her to take down those very tight shorts.
‘Was that… a herring gull?’ Susan hisses out of the corner of her mouth.
Penny at her side does not answer, does not move, only perhaps stiffening slightly in her at ease position. Because at that instant there is a sound behind them. Mr Calway. Followed by Mr Mylforth who is the owner of this splendid yacht, the Sea Maiden, their host. Susan has heard it now of course. Shapely Susan, not quite as tall as Penny and a little plumper, likewise stiffens, legs and arms bracing. Every nerve now alert. He didn’t hear that whisper, did he?
‘Someone was talking I believe. Whispering.’ Mr Calway is all at once there looming over Susan. Mr Calway in his frock-coated uniform, his peaked cap and no doubt also… his cane as well. His hand — his right hand — comes onto Susan’s bottom in the brief, tight-stretched shorts. His right hand of course kept free for fondling or pinching your bum — or anything else he feels need fondling or pinching. ‘You were whispering, Susan?’
‘Uh… no… not really, sir.’
‘Not really?’ Mr Calway’s fingers push in at the division between the taut-fleshed bottom-cheeks. Susan squirms, involuntarily, although you’re supposed to keep quite still, hands or no hands. ‘Was it Penny then?’
No, she can’t very well claim that. Mr Mylforth has now come round to the front. Not in a uniform, just white trousers and shirt, though with a peaked naval cap on his head. About the same age as Mr Calway, i.e. fortyish, but no bear. Grinning now at the two girls. His eyes on their boobs, on their pointy nipples. Also no doubt eyeing the tight crotches of the too-tight shorts. Mr Mylforth is not grabbing any bottoms, not yet. No doubt he will, though, taking a cue from Mr Calway. Now they are here for a stay on his yacht. When they, or rather Susan and Debbie with Mr Calway, went on that Mr Simmings’ yacht for two days Mr Simmings got the idea pretty quick. Because Mr Calway showed him. The first afternoon. Used the cane himself, then gave it to Mr Simmings for a turn. Susan and Debbie, both of them, the cane on their bare bottoms. Debbie is back at home base, T.S. Viceroy, at this moment, it is Susan and Penny chosen to come on this jaunt…
‘I… wasn’t really whispering… Mr Calway. I was just… checking on a gull. What it was.’
Mr Calway’s hand briefly explores in between Susan’s parted legs. Checking perhaps that the skimpy crotch of her shorts is as tight and skimpy as required. The hand slides away. ‘Take your shorts down, Susan. When you’re standing at ease on deck is not the time to be discussing bird life. Mr Mylforth will think you girls are a regular shambles, not trained at all. We don’t want him to think that, do we? So take your shorts right off. Let’s show him how a Viceroy girl likes having her bare bottom caned.’
Penny’s face as she continues to look straight ahead goes slightly pink. It could so easily be her as well of course, another second and she would have been whispering back. Not that there is any guarantee it won’t shortly be her too. For something or other. Just hope. While standing still, erect, at ease, shoulders back, boobs out. Susan she can just make out, with peripheral vision, is doing what she has to. Untying the waist tape of her shorts and, hot-faced, working them down over plump hips. Penny stifles a squeak. Mr Calway has moved behind her. His hand at her bottom.
Mr Mylforth’s eyes of course are entirely on Susan now. As the shorts come down and she takes them off over first one trainer and then the other. His eyes hot on what is revealed. Susan. Confirmation of what has been pretty evident ever since Arnold Calway brought the girls on board half an hour ago: namely that they have nothing on under those shorty-shorts. Flush-faced Susan standing erect again. In just the waist-length top. To reveal that she is a true and genuine blonde, the collar matches the cuffs. In other words the cheeky blonde curls around the brim of the flat sailor cap are repeated — in perhaps just a slightly darker shade of blonde — in the bushy fleece at the tops of her plump thighs. Well, quite naturally Eric Mylforth has eyes for not much else.
Susan, without her shorts, has resumed the at ease position. Her pretty legs precisely parted, her fingers linked behind her back. She knows the drill of course: resume the at ease position until told to assume a being-caned position. Which can be bending over, knees straight, touching toes, or various others. Here on the deck of the Sea Maiden it could be bending over the rail or anything else. It could be kneeling on the deck, on hands and knees…
Mr Calway pinches Penny’s leg, high up on the inner thigh, then steps back a pace. ‘Turn and face the starboard side, Susan. Feet apart and bend over, hands touching the deck. I’ll give you three and then perhaps Mr Mylforth would like to give you three as well.’
Penny, feeling the painful pinch but trying to ignore it, hears a little gaspy squeal from Susan — though what Mr Calway has said is really no more than you would expect. Penny won’t be able to see at least; that is something. Susan is stepping over towards the rail and out of her vision. To face the starboard side, and the shore. Could someone see from there? With binoculars? The Sea Maiden is anchored off-shore, round the headland from the harbour. But someone could see from that shore, those cliffs. See Susan without her shorts and now bending over. Her cap taken off and placed on the deck so it won’t fall off. And Mr Calway in his navy uniform shaking the cane, getting ready…
Penny continues to stare straight ahead. Hearing the sound of the first one landing, the meaty contact, and the resulting gurgling grunt from Susan. The typical sound Susan makes when the cane bites into her bottom, a sound familiar to Penny. Girls make different noises in their efforts not to yell out which of course you mustn’t do, you learn not to do. Penny herself makes more of a whimpering sound. Penny would like to shut her ears to these noises: the CRACK… of the cane as its forward motion is abruptly halted by a girl’s soft and sensitive bottom, the desperate sounds that follow from the owner of the stricken rear. But at the same time there is a certain interest. Mr Mylforth. The second three. What he is like.
Mr Calway of course knows how to cane so that you think you can’t take it but you can, just. A very experienced man with the cane. Mr Mylforth is of course an unknown quantity. He could possibly be more gentle, afraid of hurting you. Or… either deliberately or due to inexperience do something you can’t take. He doesn’t look like a sadist. But…
In fact from what Penny’s ears can judge what he does is about the same as Mr Calway. Perhaps he has done plenty of this before.
When it is over Susan has to resume her position next to Penny. At ease, her cap on again but her shorts still off and now those six stripes humming on her bum. Penny catches a glimpse of Susan’s face as she comes back: it has that look — of shock, of a struggle not to cry — that a girl has when she’s just had a whippy cane delivered six times across her bottom. The two men are now conversing in lowered tones. Discussing what is next on the agenda no doubt. Mr Mylforth’s crew are not on board at the moment, apparently they are due back after lunch. And in the meantime…
Mr Calway is strolling back, his cane and cap again under his arm. ‘Stand easy,’ he tells the two girls. They are to go below. Susan will come with him, she can do with an exercise session he thinks. Penny is to go with Mr Mylforth. Mr Calway smiles at their host. ‘If you think she needs a smacking or even a touch of the cane, Eric, don’t hesitate. They can’t get too much of it. Can you, girls?’
No answer is expected to this little quip. To Susan he says, ‘Pick up your shorts but don’t put them on. I don’t think we’ll need them on for the moment.’
Down below they separate, Penny and Mr Mylforth going forward, the other two aft. Penny feels her pulse-rate accelerating. She is going into the unknown. Mr Calway can be pretty awful but by now you know what to expect, but Mr Mylforth… He pushes her forward with his hand at her bottom. Saying some jokey thing that Penny doesn’t catch. His voice sounds excited. They go into a cabin which has a table and two bunks. Through the porthole is the shimmering blue sea. Mr Mylforth is closing the door.
He takes off his cap, puts it on the table, then turns to Penny. He grins. Mr Mylforth’s face is hot looking. ‘Well, perhaps you should take your shorts off first of all, Penny. That seems to be the order of the day, eh?’
Penny flushes. Is that an order? Whatever Mr Mylforth wants of course she’ll have to do. He comes closer. ‘Stand at ease, Cadet Milbury. That’s right, isn’t it: Penny Milbury?’
Penny stands at ease; feet apart, shoulders back, hands behind her back. ‘Yes sir.’ Is he going to make her take her shorts off?
Mr Mylforth’s hand comes out. To slide over Penny’s thrust-out boobs. ‘Is this… how you girls always have to be? Nothing under the uniform?’ His fingers play with a nipple through the thin cotton. Penny says ‘Yes sir.’ The hand slides down. She can guess where it is going but doesn’t move. Well, only a slight flinching. Viceroy training. Self-control. The hand does what she has expected. Cups the crotch of the skin-tight shorts. Penny suppresses a squeak. Mr Mylforth’s face looks even hotter. Perhaps he doesn’t normally have girls, she was wrong about that caning, thinking he was used to doing it.
‘What… if it’s cold? Or raining. You might… ha-ha… catch pneumonia.’
Ignore the hand. And don’t move. He knows you’re not supposed to move, not at ease or at attention. If she moves Mr Mylforth will have her shorts off. It’ll be an excuse and he really wants to, she can see that in his eyes. ‘Uh… No Mr Mylforth. We have our coats. And raincoats.’
‘But… no… no… underwear? Nothing… under here?’ The hand grips tighter.
Penny shakes her head, chestnut curls bobbing round the sailor cap. Her self-control is being tested to the limit. ‘What about boyfriends?’ Mr Mylforth changing tack. Into a direction not unrelated to his hand’s activity though. ‘Have you got a boyfriend? Can you get to see him?’
‘Yes. Sometimes.’ Keep looking straight ahead. Which means into Mr Mylforth’s face… but not focussing on it. He laughs. ‘Not often though? Not often enough I expect. Eh? A girl can get frustrated I should think. Eh Cadet Milbury?’
Penny says ‘No sir.’ Mr Mylforth’s hand is squeezing her. Squeezing Penny’s pussy. Naturally you can’t really ignore that sort of thing however much you try. Her reply is not true of course. You can get very frustrated indeed. And there are plenty of people around at T.S. Viceroy more than happy to do something about it even though they’re not supposed to. The bos’n; just about all the instructors. Not Mr Calway of course, he’s not interested; Mr Calway’s interests are the cane and exercise work-outs that leave you half dead. Viceroy cadets must be fit. As well as disciplined. The cane and a work-out. One followed by the other. Either way round. Sometimes the cane then a work-out and then the cane again. Which could be what Susan is getting right now. Mr Mylforth though… Penny can sense that Mr Mylforth is interested in the other all right. His hand doing what it is doing… and those hot eyes…
The hand does now come away. Mr Mylforth steps back. ‘Good. Well anyway, shall we have the shorts off now? Mr Calway did mention the possibility of a spanking. Or even the cane. Your pretty colleague has taken it on her bottom — and may even be taking a second dose right now. For whispering during drill. With pretty Penny getting off scot-free, eh? But in my experience, Penny dear, when there is whispering amongst girls it is hardly ever just the one whispering.’
Penny experiences a hot surge of indignation at this. When she never opened her mouth! ‘Pl… please… I didn’t. Really, Mr Mylforth.’ But Mr Mylforth doesn’t want to know. What he does want to do is to get her shorts off.
‘Well maybe,’ he says amiably. ‘We won’t argue. But we will have them off. Mmm?’ He is sitting down on one of the bunks. ‘Come on.’
There is nothing for it. Penny’s hands go to the waistband of her shorts, to untie the tape. It’s always worse when you haven’t done anything but of course that is not a unique feeling, Mr Calway is certainly capable of caning you for nothing. She struggles the tight shorts down. He wants them right off of course. Maybe it will only be a spanking — although that will be bad enough, Mr Mylforth is clearly intending to enjoy himself.
‘Stand up straight then. Come closer. Then at ease.’ The shorts are off. Red-faced Penny steps forward, to stand at ease close in front of Mr Mylforth. ‘Nice,’ he says.
He takes hold of the bottom of her tee-shirt and pulls it right up, to uncover Penny’s boobs. They are not quite as big as Susan’s but nice ones all right, pert and firm. ‘Very nice, Cadet Milbury. Mmm?’ Mr Mylforth’s hand tweaks first one bared nipple and then the other. ‘And Cadet Milbury… doesn’t get frustrated. Mmmm…?’
Penny makes a gaspy gurgling sound. Mr Mylforth’s hand has come down… to her pussy again. To the neat chestnut-brown bush. His hand cupping it. ‘How often… do you see that boyfriend… Penny…?’
She gasps ‘Not… too often.’ And then is being pulled down over Mr Mylforth’s lap. Face down, her bare hips across his smart white trousers. The sailor cap falls from Penny’s head and rolls across the red carpet to come to rest in a patch of shimmering sunlight. Mr Mylforth’s hand is at the silky flesh of Penny’s bottom, and the backs of her thighs. And then… she lets out a low whimpering sound… as it slides in between her legs.
‘Not very often, Penny? Well that must leave a girl frustrated.’ His hand is doing it. Wanking her. Penny splutters out ‘No… please…’ but naturally to no avail. ‘Come on, Penny dear,’ the low, excited voice says. ‘I’m sure you need it…’
She can’t stop him and Penny can’t help herself. Mr Mylforth is doing it and she is responding. A girl can’t help herself responding. Her hips, with a will of their own, bucking and surging. Penny doesn’t take long to come, hardly any time at all, although she doesn’t want to, it is awful having to like this. Spread-legged over a man’s lap. But she comes, she can’t help herself, with an urgent high-pitched wail.
As soon as she has come and without giving her any time to recover Mr Mylforth is spanking her. Hard, crisp spanks to Penny’s quivering bottom, to the backs of her now slack thighs. Like this, right after a girl has come, when she’s just sliding down from that desperate peak, a spanking is a really diabolical thing. It is like dying a thousand deaths.
‘Yes I think so, Penny dear.’ Mr Mylforth’s hand pats her bare thigh, hot in the bright sun. ‘It would have taken a rather long time.’
They are heading out from the Sea Maiden towards the shore in Mr Mylforth’s small motorboat. He is referring to his dingy which it had been suggested the two girls could row to shore. Both of them heaved sighs of relief when that idea was abandoned. The distance must be more than a quarter of a mile. It had been Mr Calway’s idea but he had accepted that it could take rather a long time and they might be late for lunch. He was keen for them to do some hard rowing though. ‘Perhaps after lunch then. And on a day like this they could strip off, down to their socks and caps.’
Mr Calway is quite capable of carrying out that threat but for the moment they are skimming over the shimmery blue surface in the motorboat, Penny sitting next to Mr Mylforth at the wheel and Susan with Mr Calway amidships. It is still a beautiful day, the sun beating down out of a clear sky as it was earlier when Susan had to take her shorts off and get that caning on the Sea Maiden for’ard deck. Both girls have their shorts back on now of course, they are going into the little port and so have to look respectable. Or as respectable as you can hope to look in a T.S. Viceroy outfit, skin-tight and with clearly nothing underneath. It is not very nice having to walk about in a public place in a Viceroy uniform but that is what it will shortly be with quite possibly a lot of gawping tourists about.
‘I should like to see them rowing though,’ Mr Mylforth adds. ‘See their muscles working.’ He reaches to squeeze Penny’s upper arm. ‘I bet Penny’s got some really lovely muscles.’ He laughs at his little joke. ‘Eh Penny? Muscles all over I expect.’ The hand drops down to her thigh, this time very close to Penny’s groin.
‘They are supposed to be fit,’ Mr Calway says. ‘Although of course girls tend to be slackers and won’t exercise unless you make them. These two are no exception I’m afraid.’
‘Won’t exercise!’ Mr Mylforth exclaims. Sliding his hand in between the tops of Penny’s thighs. ‘Oh dear. That can call for the cane I imagine.’
Mr Calway says yes. In his cabin he has just given Susan a couple more with his cane. After putting her through a killing exercise routine. Penny hasn’t had the cane at least, just that breath-stopping spanking over Mr Mylforth’s lap — not to mention that other diabolical business. Neither girl however imagines that their ordeals are over for the day.
There are lots of people to be seen when a little later they enter the harbour. Susan and Penny exchange rueful glances. No doubt there will be plenty of girls and young women around in brief bikinis but somehow the Viceroy outfit always seems briefer, more revealing, even than the briefest bikini. And it is true, as soon as they are out of the boat and on dry land the two Viceroy cadets are the immediate object of everyone’s attention: Grins and giggles. Young boys exclaiming, ‘Cor look at that! Look at ‘er bum in those shorts!’ Everyone it seems and especially every man, every boy, is staring at them. At these two pretty girls, blonde and brunette, in their sailor caps with their shapely figures almost nuder than nude in the skin-tight and ultra-brief T.S. Viceroy uniforms.
Mr Calway doesn’t mind of course, having to walk with everyone staring at them, with small boys and youths leering and making comments, is good training. Self-control and discipline. ‘Don’t slouch,’ he tells them. ‘Keep those shoulders back.’
In fact he says there is no hurry, it is early for lunch and they can walk around for a bit. To prolong his two cadets’ embarrassment no doubt. Towards the end of the front there is an old ship’s cannon set up on a plinth and pointing out over the harbour. Mr Mylforth who has his camera with him says he would like a shot of Penny sitting astride the cannon. He laughs. ‘Perhaps without her shorts, eh?’
That is a joke although not a very funny one to Penny. Both men laugh of course. Mr Calway says, ‘Yes. That’d make a nice shot.’ But it is impossible, thankfully, there are people strolling by. It is bad enough as it is: Penny having to clamber up and get her legs astride the gun barrel. This position spreads her thighs wide, threatening to stretch the already tautly stretched shorts beyond the point of no return. Susan watches nervously, wondering if Penny’s shorts are going to split in two, a sudden ripping sound, to reveal the pink of Penny’s bare bottom in a gaping split. A family group has stopped to watch the action and quite possibly they are wondering the same thing. Mr Calway squeezes Susan’s arm. ‘Your turn next,’ he tells her.
Penny is told to arch her back, stick out her chest. Stick her tits out that means. Mr Mylforth moves around, getting shots from various angles. Somehow the severely strained stitching in the rear of Penny’s shorts doesn’t give way. She at last is allowed to climb down, red-faced and shaky-legged. The grinning family now move off. No one else is for the moment in the immediate vicinity. ‘Would you like Susan with her shorts off?’ Mr Calway asks.
Susan gives a shocked yelp. Realising that he is serious. Mr Calway ignores her of course. ‘I think we could. Come on, Susan. Get them off.’
Susan looks frantically round. Further along the sun-drenched front there are figures approaching. Not close at the moment, but… ‘Please sir…’ she hisses.
‘Get ‘em off,’ Mr Calway barks. ‘Or I’ll take them off and make you parade up and down the front in just your top.’
Penny is looking on with awed fascination. The very thought of it makes you feel slightly sick. What she had to do was bad enough, but… no shorts!!
Susan is unhappily taking off her shorts. Those people are coming closer at a fair pace. She begins to move more urgently, her only hope being to perhaps get it over with before that couple with the boy get close.
Penny’s eyes widen as Susan climbs up — with help, perhaps unwelcome, from Mr Mylforth. Susan’s thighs momentarily spread wide… and then she is up. Bare thighs clasping the naked metal — and even more intimate parts of Susan in intimate contact too. Mr Mylforth is clicking away like mad — but that threesome is now not far away. They can plainly see Susan is up on the cannon although possibly not yet, with Mr Calway and Mr Mylforth standing close, that she has no shorts on. They are going to see though; it is clear to Penny that they must see.
They do see. This youngish couple with their son, on holiday clearly, they do see because Susan is still up on the cannon when they reach the Viceroy contingent. Susan is panicking and attempting to get down at the same time. With the result that she shows a lot more than she otherwise might. Everything in fact. Mr Calway possibly does not wish this complete public display but there is nothing he can really do at this point. The boy’s mouth and eyes gape wide — not surprisingly because at that age you do not normally get a full and unimpeded view of everything an 18-year-old girl has. His father gazes with the same intensity because even if you have seen it before, well… the mother turns away in shock.
How awful for poor Susan!
Mr Calway naturally says it is all Susan’s fault, she could easily have got down before those people got close. She was deliberately making an exhibition of herself. Poor Susan, with her shorts now back on and the startled-eyed trio who had had that amazing show now moved on, was in tears. The awfulness of it and in addition what Mr Calway was going on to say — as of course he would — that she would certainly have to have a good caning after that. ‘As soon as convenient after lunch,’ he said.
What had happened and Mr Calway’s promise was enough to completely spoil Susan’s appetite for her fish-and-chip lunch. Penny was also apprehensive about what the afternoon might bring — not to mention the evening, and the night on board the Sea Maiden, and indeed the whole of the rest of the two-day cruise planned to start later this afternoon. For one thing Mr Calway said he was going to make them exercise on deck in the nude (apart from socks and trainers) with the Sea Maiden crew watching. But in spite of all this in prospect Penny wasn’t put off her food. However awful things were you had to keep your strength up.