I ate lunch with Master, spent the afternoon on the patio, then had dinner with Suresh because Master was busy again. After dark, Suresh attached a leash to my balls and led me outside and into to the car. We drove to the dock in silence. Master was waiting for me. He didn’t even give say goodbye to Suresh before sending him away. I was glad we’d had our last morning makeout session. I’m going to miss this cute little slave was as close to a goodbye as I was going to get.
Master led me aboard Mariposa, then below decks to my old sleeping room. He chained my wrists together behind me, lowered me onto the futon, said good night, and left.
It was the same old bedroom: hot and stuffy as ever. After a while, I began to smell my own sweat.
I spent that night alone in the dark, wondering when we would begin our voyage back to San Francisco, and how long I had before Master was done with me. Would I live long enough to see the shores of America one last time?
No, that seemed unlikely. Too much risk that my body might wash up on some California beach. There would be questions. The first one would be, “Where do you suppose he got that tattoo?”
Master was too smart to make that mistake. I would get dumped into the open sea, hundreds of miles from land. A shark would have its way with me, and leave no loose ends.
No loose ends. That sounded like Master’s style. Let’s just say I have trust issues.
* * *
Between the uncomfortable room and the uncomfortable thoughts, I hardly slept. I had no way to tell when morning came, until I heard the sounds of first, Master starting up the generator, and second, the engine that would propel our boat away from the island until we were far enough out to sea to catch the wind properly. I remembered these sounds from the day we left San Francisco, though then I didn’t know what they were.
I had nothing to do but wait until Master was ready for me. I could feel the floor rocking beneath me and guessed that the sea was choppy this morning. I remained on the futon; I had no reason to get up, except to use the toilet. I wondered how long it would take for me to get my sea legs back.
Master came to collect me when we were far enough from land that no one could see that he had a naked deckhand. He opened the door and called out, “Come on, lazy slave. Mustn’t sleep all day.”
He seemed in a surprisingly good mood. “Yes, Master.”
We went topside. Master chained my wrists to my collar, and I climbed up to release the sails from their covers. After so long locked in a small, stuffy room, being topside and at sea was a literal breath of fresh air. I relished the sensations of the sun on my back, the smell of the salt air, and the feel of a fresh breeze blowing through my crotch. Master watched me winch each sheet in turn, making sure I coiled the rope properly. When I finished, Master patted me on the ass and said, “Good slave.”
I felt proud.
He led me to the aft deck, where we sat together and watched the sea. Master pulled off his shirt, put his arm around me, and pulled me against him. I sighed at the touch of his flesh.
Master had a different reaction. He wrinkled his nose. “You’re getting a little ripe. We need to get you into the shower.” He stood, but then he opened his pants and let them fall to the deck. Soon he was naked, too. He sat again. “Suresh says you can suck dick now.”
I was supposed to say, Yes, Master, but I couldn’t get the words out.
Master observed my discomfort and said, “Never mind. You’d probably just barf all over my deck.” He pointed to his own dick, which was getting hard, and said, “Sit on it.”
Maneuvering into position was awkward. I positioned myself facing Master, with one foot next to him on the couch, the other dangling over the arm. I held onto the back of the couch with both hands, while Master held me by the hips and slowly lowered my asshole over his erect cock.
“Mmm. Nice. I’m too tired to fuck this morning, so you fuck yourself.” He leaned back and shut his eyes. I bounced up and down the best I could, attempting to keep Master and his penis happy. For a few minutes, it seemed to work, as Master grunted and groaned his pleasure, but after a while he became impatient. He opened his eyes and said, “Faster.”
I was already doing it as fast as I could, but I tried to obey. He only became more impatient. “Get off me,” he said as he lifted me off him and shoved me aside. I fell onto the couch.
Master rose, stood over me, and pulled at my legs until my feet were on the deck and my ass in position atop the couch’s arm. “If you want anything done right, you have to do it yourself.” He plunged into me hard on the last syllable. I yelped in surprise, then focused on relaxing my asshole. Master was close, if his rapid strokes were any indication. I could feel his dick probing my insides for a few minutes until, with a final deep lunge, he released his load inside me. He pulled out, stuck a butt plug into me, then slapped my ass and said, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
My legs trembled as I drew myself to my feet. When I looked down, I saw a glob of jizz emerge from my catheter and drip onto the deck.
We showered, then ate breakfast. Master made us each a sandwich of egg and toast. He got coffee; I had to wash mine down with plain water. Afterward, we lifted weights. Master was dressed only in shorts and sneakers; every time he lifted, I watched his muscles move. My body tingled all over.
Next, we went topside. Master chained me to the aft deck while he spent a couple of hours in the cockpit, plotting our way home, I presumed. Then we ate lunch and Master asked me a question: “What do you want to do this afternoon? You can run laps, or you can write me that apology letter. Your choice.”
“I’d rather write the letter, Master.”
“Trust my slave to choose the easy way.” He took me into the deck house, chained me to the desk where I’d passed many hours writing out The Rules, and handed me a pen and a few sheets of paper. “I’ll be back at dinnertime. What happens next depends on what you write.”
* * *
Dear Master,
You told me once that you had trust issues. Even knowing that, I violated your trust. I made a terrible decision. There is no excuse; I can only beg for your forgiveness.
Over this voyage, Master has been very good to me, and I have been nothing but a disappointment over and over again. I’ve learned from experience that Master is right about everything. I confess that when I first came aboard Mariposa and Master began explaining my new life to me, it sounded strange. It sounded crazy, even. But that was only because I needed time to absorb it.
Time has revealed how correct Master is. In the beginning, I didn’t understand how good my new life could be, but it’s been everything Master promised and more. I don’t have to work. I am the only guy in the world who never has to give a thought to food, clothing, shelter, or money. I have no worries, no concerns, and nothing to fear, except to worry about Master, be concerned for his health and happiness, and fear his anger when I disappoint him. Master has made this slave’s life into a dream. Master cares for the slave and relieves the slave of the burden of making decisions. He took the slave on a magical Pacific adventure the slave could scarcely have dreamed of before it became his. Everything Master does to the slave is for the slave’s own good. The sex is always awesome. The slave is enormously grateful for all these things.