Vixen Cruise Lines

Sandra felt her tits bouncing as the helicopter lurched through the air. Her camera tech seemed to appreciate it, practically smirking over there on his side of the chopper. Carl, that was his name. And well he should, she thought. It was hot in the small aircraft, so her ample cleavage was on display and dripping with sweat. The harness strap only amplified the situation.

"Are we getting close?" she asked.

"Just about five more minutes," the pilot called back.

It would be worth all the trouble once she had her exclusive. No network had been able to make a deal with Vixen to do a story on their secretive luxury cruise line before. They always kept to international waters and took no one aboard but their members--until now.

"How'd you manage to work this out, Jackson?" she called out to her anchor back at the station, through the camera Carl had trained on her. They were recording everything on this excursion, and the feed was being put out live through one of the network's dedicated streams for the duration. It was all part of the promotion for the special series.

"We made them a great offer," he answered, grinning from the little forward-facing screen on the camera. "Publicity, intrigue, new customers. Not to mention, half the advertising proceeds from our feed... the works!"

"There's the ship now," said the pilot.

It was a full sized ocean liner, with multiple pools visible on the staggered decks. The helicopter descended and touched down on a large circular pad near the stern.

The pilot slowed and then stopped the blades of the chopper. Sandra and her crew gathered their things and exited the vehicle. They were met on the deck by a statuesque woman draped in a gauzy white robe. Blonde hair sat atop her head like a crown of interwoven braids. She gave Sandra an appraising look as the group approached.

"You are the one?" she asked in a clipped English accent. "The... participant."

"Ah, you could say that. I'm investigative journalist Sandra Look. You might know me from--"

"Yes. Come along then."

The woman turned briskly and began to walk toward the nearest doorway. Sandra hurried after her, giving Carl a look. He plodded along, keeping the pair of women steady in his frame.

"We have agreed to place you among our staff," began the woman as they walked, "and allow you to film your experience as one of us. And you have agreed to follow our staff protocols and perform the duties entailed in your position, yes?"

"What's this now?" Sandra said, turning toward the screen on the camera.

Jackson spread his hands and smiled his big smile. "Come on Sandra, you want this story as much as any of us. More, even! Don't you want it?"

She gave him a quick glare, and then put on her best look. "Of course I want it more than anyone, Jackson!" She beamed at the camera. She turned to the woman. "And of course I agree to your terms," she said. "I wouldn't want anything less. We've guaranteed our viewers the authentic experience. Performing the role of a staff member is perfect. What may I call you, by the way?"

The woman smiled. "I am Hostess Marigold. Here we are." She stopped beside a bench in a small room. There were a few items arranged there.

"What's this?"

"Your new uniform."

Sandra studied the items anew, frowning. There were black stiletto heels, that was clear enough. There was a short black ribbon with a bit of something on it. And then, what looked like a shiny chrome egg, perhaps, flared at the more rounded end like the mouth of a vase, with a furry red fox tail bursting from the opening, big and fluffy and soft as satin.

She looked up. "You've got to be kidding me."

Marigold regarded her cooly for a moment. "Do you hesitate so soon? To act as one of us, as you agreed?" The woman reached up and parted her robe. "I'll show you how the uniform is worn," she said, as she let the gauzy fabric fall to the floor around her. She was tall and regal, and gloriously naked, with a golden tan unbroken anywhere on her body. Her vulva was perfectly smooth and glistened with moisture. She wore black heels with thin black straps winding up her calves, and a black ribbon about her throat with an opal resting on her collarbone. And there was a thick, bushy fox tail hanging behind her. Sandra leaned over a bit to see it emerge from between the round cheeks of Marigold's amazing ass.

"Come on, you can do it," came Jackson's voice from the camera. She could hear a couple of cheers in the background.

Sandra took a deep breath. This was what she had come for, right? She was going to find out just what this cruise line was all about. "Okay."

She unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off. Carl watched steadily as she shimmied her skirt down her legs and stood there in her bra and panties.

"Go on," said Hostess Marigold.

Sandra reached back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall off. The air was cool on her breasts and she felt her nipples begin to grow harder. She saw Carl lick his lips through the corner of her eye. She pushed her panties down to her ankles, and stepped out of them and the practical pumps she'd been wearing at the same time. "You want to help me with this?" she asked the other woman.

"Naturally." Sandra sat on the bench and Marigold knelt down to lace her heels up for her, nearly to her knees. The nude woman walked behind her and placed the lace ribbon around her throat, adjusting it until snug.

"Get up." Marigold gestured. "On your hands and knees."

Sandra crawled up onto the bench as instructed, feeling very exposed at the touch of a cool draft over her most intimate parts, and the hostess pressed down between her shoulder blades until she was laying with her face against the smooth wood, her ass still very much in the air. Marigold's other hand was there in no time, resting firmly on Sandra's ass. She felt it roaming freely, around her cheeks, between her legs. The woman's palm was cool and insistent against Sandra's vulva, rubbing her in little circles until she felt it getting wet and slippery. Then she felt the hostess press in more firmly still, fingers sliding down into the crevice between her ass cheeks, and up into the moist warmth of her pussy. Sandra gasped, eyes widening.

"Looks like she's getting in there pretty good, folks," she heard Jackson's voice saying, as Marigold's fingers worked their way more deeply into her and she shuddered and trembled with her face against the bench.

"Oh, I think she's going for the plug..."

Sandra felt the cool metal press firmly into her hot, slick flesh. It slid up between her labia, getting slippery with her juices, and down into the ring of her asshole.

"I'm going to apply some pressure now," the hostess warned. Sandra's breathing got faster as she felt the pussy-moistened egg push in, dilating her anus. "Bear down, it will be easier."

Sandra closed her eyes and tentatively pushed back against the intrusion. She felt her opening give way, letting the slick egg move further in. She wriggled her ass a little, biting her lip and pushing back harder, and the egg slid deeper and deeper, spreading her wider and wider, until just before she thought something might tear, and then it slipped inside. Her asshole closed up over the metal object, swallowing it whole, save for the flared top resting snugly in the tight ring of her anus, and the silky fox tail nestling between her cheeks.

She lay there for a moment, catching her breath, as Marigold stroked her back and ass approvingly. "Good girl. The plug will now remain in place at all times, except for designated evacuation breaks." She began to pet the tail, stroking its length gently. Sandra felt the tug and pull in the plug filling her up, stretching out her ass. As it pulled against her sphincter, she felt a dull vibration begin deep inside her. Her breath caught at this new sensation, growing stronger by the moment.

"As I pull softly on your tail," Marigold explained, "the plug begins to vibrate. You see?"

She was stroking the fur more forcefully now, and the machinery hummed along in response, throbbing in the depths of her bowels. She began to pant and sweat as the vibrations rattled through her pelvis, enflaming the flesh of her vulva, making her drip.

"If you attempt to remove the tail by force, these sensations become less pleasant."

Sandra yelped in pain as the woman gave her tail a firm yank, and the plug did... something. Her insides clinched up like a fist around it. Marigold released her grip and the sensation vanished, save for a few seconds of trembling in her abdomen and anus.

"You may remove the tail only with approval--and assistance." The hostess smiled. "You may request permission to evacuate at any time, for now. You will be trained to keep to a schedule in time."

Sandra looked at her in shock. How long did this woman think she was going to be staying here, anyway? She realized her eyes had watered and makeup was running down her face. She felt an indentation where the bench had dug into her cheek and across her nose. She sat up, gingerly, adjusting the tail to curl alongside her ass.

"What do you think of the uniform?" asked Jackson's crackling voice as he grinned at her through the screen. He turned to some other crew. "She should start wearing that to the office, eh, boys?" There were shouts of agreement and laughter.

Sandra blinked at the camera and did her best to compose herself, thinking of her colleagues at work, even office assistants who would normally just bring her coffee, seeing her now, like this. Surely they would... see how dedicated she was, doing all this. Wouldn't they? "It's, ah, pretty comfortable, actually," she said softly, wondering what she had gotten herself into. No matter; she would do anything for this story.

"What was that, honey? Nevermind, nevermind. Why don't you stand up for us--I mean, for our audience at home. Go ahead sweetie."

She stood up, unsure what to do with her hands in this new uniform. They wandered over her naked body, glancing off the fullness of a breast, or fumbling around the smooth, bare skin of her uncovered pussy lips tingling in the cool air.

"That's it darling, turn around for us."

Sweetie? Darling? He'd never called her anything like that before. She felt like he just understood that she wouldn't have put up with any sexist, demeaning pet names--before. She turned, hesitantly, showing the camera her furry tail. It felt soft and luxurious against the sensitive insides of her thighs and ass cheeks. She felt a tingle and shivered, sending a vibration through the egg. Her plug hummed a low note inside her, seeming to warm up. She shivered again, more this time, bending over and leaning on the bench with one hand. Her ass shimmied and wiggled for the camera, but she wasn't thinking much about that. Just the slowly growing hum as the device responded to her body's arousal.

Marigold came up beside her and placed her hands on Sandra's plump round ass, flicking the tail to lie up along her back. The woman's naked skin against hers felt almost electric, and the plug thrummed to a deeper level of vibration, rattling her insides. Juices seeped from her pussy freely now, making their way down both thighs.

"The tail is the most important part of the service uniform here aboard Vixen Lines," said Marigold, as she pulled on Sandra's cheeks and spread her open for the camera. She licked a couple of fingers and reached over to run them up and down Sandra's pussy. The plug began to follow a wave-like pattern, throbbing more and more intensely, before dropping down for a few seconds, only to repeat. Sandra cried out and reached underneath herself, hesitating for just a brief moment, and then began to rub her clit on camera.

"Holy shit," said Carl, keeping the lens trained on her pussy.

"As you can see, the tail plug responds to the body." Marigold continued to stroke Sandra's vulva, slipping her fingers between wet lips and into her moist canal. Sandra bucked and gasped as the plug kicked up. "It can detect changes in temperature, muscle constriction, secretion of fluids..." The hostess dipped her fingers more deeply into Sandra's pussy, pulling them out glistening and wet, before plunging them back in with a squelching sound. Sandra's building pleasure crested, bowling her over.

"Oooohhh fuuuck," she cried, shaking and collapsing on the bench. She twitched and squirmed as the machine continued to stimulate her relentlessly, only slowly winding down in response to the changing state of her body.

"As a new hostess begins her work," continued Marigold, softly stroking Sandra's back, "often her greatest challenge will be dealing with the stimulation of the tail. She will be constantly on the edge of orgasm, desperate for release. We at Vixen find that this puts our staff in just the right state of mind to properly serve our members."

"That's incredible," came Jackson's voice from the screen as he watched a close up of Sandra's still quivering pussy. "Genius."

"Come now," said Marigold. "Time to begin attending to your duties on deck."

Sandra got shakily to her feet and stood on wobbly knees, after one of her most intense orgasms in recent memory. She steadied herself and straightened her back, getting her breath under control. She could handle this, for a career-defining story. "I'm ready, Hostess," she said.

Marigold looked at her. "Very good," she said evenly.

They made their way to the open air of the deck, and Sandra followed the hostess toward a pool. The sun was toasty on her exposed skin, and the breeze was crisp and cool. She stood up taller, pushing her chest out to present her breasts proudly, like she saw Marigold doing. Her nipples swelled and throbbed, as the egg rose from its slumber from time to time and hummed softly inside her. She felt a trickle of warm fluid run down her inner thigh.

Other women in the Vixen uniform of thin black choker and red fox tail strolled the deck, bearing at most a small platter, or more often just a beverage in a thin stemmed glass, or nothing. There were all shades of skin, from lightly tanned to deep tones of olive and dark brown. Most of the women seemed to glisten like they were coated in oil. Their breasts bounced as they walked, their smooth pussies shone invitingly with wetness in the bright sunshine, and their tails swished with the seductive swaying of their hips.

They attended to patrons, individually or in pairs, feeding them grapes and administering sips of champagne. Some were sitting in laps. She saw one woman bouncing up and down with her legs wrapped around a seated patron's waist, her tail draped over his legs. He had an arm around her, and with the other he was grabbing a big handful of her ass, fingers sinking deep into her flesh, as he lifted and dropped her repeatedly. Sandra caught a glimpse of his shiny erection sliding in and out of her vagina. He stroked her tail and she let out a sudden cry, and seemed to shake and quiver all over, clinging to him.

The patrons were naked, mostly, with cocks ranging from fully erect, bobbing along in front of them, to just semi-aroused, hanging heavily and slapping against their thighs as they strolled the decks. And then she realized some of the nude women she saw lacked the tail of a hostess and must have been patrons as well.

Sandra was finding it more and more difficult to walk, with the insistent mechanical thrumming of the egg in her pelvis. Her knees were unsteady. The high, slender heels didn't help at all. Her ankles wanted to wobble out from under her.

"We'll begin your training here by the pool," said Marigold.

"What kind of training?" asked Sandra, eyes narrowing. She was wearing their uniform, dealing with the stimulation of the tail with as much composure as she could manage, and she was ready and willing to serve drinks or some such thing this way, but some of what she was seeing here she could hardly believe. Surely they couldn't expect her, a well respected news woman, to do... that... and on live television, no less?

"Training in decorum, for a start," said the hostess, turning to her sternly. "We do not require silence. You may speak freely, of what you feel, and what you desire. But you are not to question any instruction you are given."

The woman was close, very close. She spoke into Sandra's ear, and ran a hand down her back, nails scraping. She reached her ass, and closed her fingers around the tail, softly stroking down its length. The hostess tightened her hand, and Sandra gasped, as the egg thrummed to life inside of her, idling against her g-spot like a little motor.

"You will receive the kind of training I wish you to receive. That is enough for you to know."

Sandra's legs were feeling weak. She couldn't believe how turned on she was. But this was insane. She had rights. She could stop all this whenever she wanted, of course. Well, that was just it. She reminded herself that she was doing this by choice, could stop at any time, and was going along with it to get her story. She set her jaw and said, "Yes, Hostess."

She caught sight of Carl training the camera behind her, as Marigold continued to stroke her tail, pulling at the plug and making her tightly stretched asshole tingle and throb. And there was Jackson, watching with an irritating smirk from the screen. That guy had been waiting for a chance like this since she first joined the news team, she was sure of it. She was starting to wonder if this whole story wasn't just an excuse to get her undressed, and more. Still, her knees bent and she leaned forward as the plug warmed her insides. "Oh god," she whispered.

"What was that?" asked the hostess, drawing the tail upward so it lay in the groove of her spine, exposing her seeping pussy to the camera.

"It... feels so good..." she breathed, unsteadily. "Hostess," she added.

"That's the idea, dear." Marigold smiled. "Now let's introduce you to a few of our members. Right over here."

The hostess kept hold of the tail and tugged gently as she walked, forcing Sandra to keep up by the pull of the chrome egg on her anal ring. She stroked its fluffy length up along Sandra's back, so she had to bend forward and hobble along the deck on wobbly high heels and unsteady legs.

"Of fuck," she panted quietly, trying to ignore the insistent buzzing against her vagina, the deep hum rumbling through her pelvis, as they approached a pair of men in the pool. "Oh fuck," she whispered, biting down hard on her lower lip.

"And who's this?" she heard one of the men ask with what sounded like a touch of hunger in his deep voice. He was very tall, with a shaved head and smooth black skin, glistening with pool water in the sun. Well-formed muscles rippled over his chest and arms like thick snakes moving under his skin.

"Looks good enough to eat," commented his friend, a lanky, long haired adonis with an unbroken tan as far as she could see.

The two of them were approaching up the wide, shallow steps that rounded the whole edge of this side of the pool. She saw they were completely nude as they emerged, water streaming down their sculpted bodies, cascading over their thick cocks and heavy ball sacks that hung like hefty slabs of wet meat between their muscular thighs, swinging ominously as they came nearer.

"She's our newest addition," chirped Marigold with a prim smile. "I know how you enjoy breaking them in. I thought you might like to help with her first round of training this morning."

"You know us too well, Hostess," rumbled the first fellow, giving Sandra an appraising look.

"I think she's got a little fire in her still," commented the other, smirking. Sandra saw his tanned and hairless cock growing as his gaze moved over her naked body, getting longer and thicker right before her eyes. It was already too big for her taste, just starting to lift off his balls, with the weight of that broad cockhead bending his sturdy shaft downward.