Cruise Ship Jail

The Lies You Tell the Others

(and the lies you tell yourself)

8 - Cruise Ship Jail

"But I never blow jobbed anybody before," Michelle said, near tears.

The ship's security chief swiveled his chair and looked down incredulously at the petite, handcuffed, nude woman. "Never? How old *are* you?"

"Thirty, uh, four," she replied, looking up at him from a kneeling position.

"Yeah. Right. Okay. Well, it's way past time you learned, rookie," he said, unbuckling his belt.

"Her ID says she's 45," the other man in the room drawled.

"I know I was acting a little crazy, a little drunk for a while, but I'm better now. You could at least untie me and let me get dressed."

"No need to cover up. Nothing to see anyway," the other one smirked. She didn't have a bra among the pile of belongings they'd brought with her, just a tank top, but if she did it would be an A-cup. A pair of tiny brown nipples adorned her chest; if she had on pants instead of the miniskirt lying with her clothes, to conceal several weeks of stubble on her pussy, she could have been mistaken for a middle-school boy, being barely five feet tall. The man wasn't wrong.

"I just want to go back to my room. My suite. My husband. Please."

"You can. In a while. Do you want me to take off your glasses first, so they don't get dirty?"

"I can't see without them."

"You don't need to see any farther than you can reach." Suspecting that myopia would contribute to her compliance, he took them off for her, placing them gently on the desk.

"I thought you were going to let me off with a warning," she whimpered.

"Warning? This *is* your warning. Consider yourself lucky." He pulled down his zipper. "Drunk and disorderly? Making a big commotion? In the nude out in the hallway? A passenger lodged a complaint. What am I supposed to do?" He pushed his pants and boxers to mid-thigh, exposing his erection to her.

"What are you doing? You mean now?"

"Technically I'm supposed to lock you up until we reach port tomorrow. So I'm doing you a big favor if I turn a blind eye to the disturbance you caused. Now you can do me a favor, to say thank you." He pushed his pants further down, past his knees.

"But right here in front of *him*? Can't he at least go somewhere else? I've never been so embarrassed."

"You'll get over it."

"But it's so, you know, large."

The assistant security officer across the desk from them laughed. "You're kidding, right? Or you must really be as inexperienced as you said. Anyway, mine's bigger. Just so you're prepared. 'Cause it's my turn after Winston finishes with you."

"Thick, I mean. My husband's, uh, thing isn't anywhere near as big around as this."

The other man snickered. "Your man must be tiny, then. And you must not get around much."

"Shut up," said the chief.

She contemplated the shaft, little more than 12 centimeters in length. The head itself was of considerable size, for an overall disproportionate appearance. "Can't you untie me?" she repeated. "Please? I could do it for you better with my hand."

"Not a hand job, lady. In your, uh, what's your name?"

"Michelle," the other man prompted on her behalf.

"In your mouth, Michelle."

"Putting it in my mouth is perverted."

"Should have thought it through, before asking me for any favors." the chief reminded her. "Of course it's perverted. That's the whole idea, Michelle. Little innocent Michelle. Don't worry. It won't take too long." He laughed unkindly. "Half an hour at most, if you do it right. And you'd better be careful with using your teeth."

"Thirty *minutes*? I have to suck it for thirty minutes? I didn't know blow jobbing took that long." The other man laughed derisively but didn't say anything.

"The time will fly. If I didn't know better, I'd say you're getting excited at the thought, Michelle."

"I don't even know what semen tastes like. It burns, right?"

"Burn? The taste? Eh. You'll love it."

"But I don't know *how*," she insisted, looking up at him.

"You'll figure it out," he said. "Stop talking, get to work." He tried to start.

"I mean, I know it has to go all the way down my throat. But it's too big around for that. It won't fit. Will it? How do girls make it *fit* when they blow job somebody?"

The chief gave the younger man an amused look. "Exactly, Michelle. Right down the throat. A tight squeeze. All the way down. That's exactly how it's done, rookie. Remember to hold your breath before you start." He grasped the bleached-blonde hair at the back of her head and pulled her forward.

"But won't I pass out, from that?" she asked.

"Yeah. Probably. Did you go to a special school? You must be mentally deficient, or something."

Her pink lips touched the tip of his black cock and she recoiled. "I really have to blow job you. It smells like urine," she protested, then allowed entry. She gagged violently before it even reached her uvula.

He pulled out for just a moment, then reinserted. "Sorry if you're having trouble." She gagged again, but he didn't relent.

Just then, the lock mechanism of the door clicked. A fourth person entered the small room. Neither man reacted particularly to this, but Michelle wrenched free from the chief's grasp, and jumped backward as best she could, considering her kneeling position.

"This isn't what it looks like," she said, squinting.

The chief glanced over at the rotund middle-aged woman who had walked in on them in flagrante delicto. "Caught this one, drunk and disorderly. Ugly too, but that isn't a crime."

The newcomer shrugged. "You look happy enough to have her here, Winston," she said, clearly untroubled by the sight of the man's erection. "Something to break up the monotony at four a.m., yeah?"

"Uh huh." He continued, "I was gonna put her in lockup, but she decided to post bail. Heh." He stood up and took a step toward Michelle, who was now backed against the desk, confronting her again with his hard cock.

The woman interrupted and addressed the naked one. "Wait. Aren't you the one I chased out of Captain Nemo's this morning?"

"No," Michelle replied quickly.

"You're saying she's got priors?" the chief asked, then roared with laughter.

"Yeah, it's her." The moon-faced one smiled. "Well, don't worry about *that*," she said unctuously to Michelle. "These two gentlemen will take *good* care of you. You just can't seem to get enough cream in one day, can you, little miss Missy?"

"Wasn't me," Michelle insisted, though in a dull, defeated tone. "They're making me do this. Wasn't my idea. I never blow jobbed anybody before. This is so embarrassing." She positioned herself again and opened her mouth wide for the chief, expectantly. He met those expectations and pressed inward, chuckling.

"What happened in Nemo's?" the chief's assistant asked.

"Caught her sucking the new guy's pecker. She said he forced her to. He said she did it willingly. Deep-throat, even. Put him on admin leave. Gave her a break. Don't know why."

"Deep throat, huh? Maybe you want to give her another break, for lying to you. And to us. After my turn, of course."

"I might."

Michelle struggled and got the chief's cock out of her mouth. "It wasn't me," she repeated hopelessly, before he reinserted it in a way she would not escape from again.

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