To the Bottom of the Sea

The end of another shift, thought Lucas. He looked across the bridge at Hitchcock’s station and realised that it was empty.

The crewmembers readying themselves for the shift change began to chatter amongst themselves, discussing their plans for the evening. Lucas had no plans, just another night of balls ache as he waited for her message.

6 nights had passed since the locker on the recreation deck, 6 nights since her curt instruction – ‘…and no masturbation for you, boy. Not until I give you permission.’

Even though he was certain that she couldn’t observe him in his cabin, Lucas had restrained himself. Even after she had stopped him in the corridor on C deck, unbuttoned her jacket top, pulled aside her vest and made him lap at the single exposed nipple until it stood as hard and erect as he was, Lucas had restrained himself.

‘Patience, Wolenczak,’ she had said as she covered herself up again, ‘patience.’

6 days of abstinence and all he was aware of was the ache and the need she had created. He knew that if he had gone against her order she would have known and punished him accordingly.

25 minutes to go before the end of his shift and the screen chimed at him, discretely. The message was from her – “In forty minutes you will be at my quarters. You will have bathed. You will not be late. No underclothes.”

Lucas’ mouth was suddenly dry; quickly he destroyed the note and set his wrist watch timer running. Lateness was not an option. His pulse quickened.

30 minutes to go – he managed to get off shift a little early. Smiling to his shipmates he scurried from the bridge, trying desperately to disguise his erection behind a clipboard.

Quickly back to his narrow cell in the bowels of the ship Lucas grabbed what he needed and hurried off to the head. He wasted no time with his ablutions – Hitchcock had only demanded that he be washed and shortless when he arrived. All Lucas could hear was his ragged breathing as the cold water of the shower sluiced over him. He was acutely aware of the studded tiles beneath his feet, the needles of the shower and the ever-present ache.

The rough towelling he gave himself was an exquisite torture. Lucas left his cock and balls alone. If I so much as touch myself, he told himself, I’m gonna explode.

With barely 8 minutes to spare he was off to her quarters, thoughts of hunger banished. All there was was the need and the idea that release was mere moments away.

Lapse time of 38 minutes and 40 seconds – he knocked on her door. There was no sound from within. His cock was a solid lump in his trouser but there was no answer. He knocked again.

‘Enter’. Hitchcock stood in the middle of the room with a stopwatch in her hands and smiled at Lucas. ‘Wolenczak, good of you to come. In and close the door please.’

His hands trembling with desire, Lucas complied. He stepped further into the room. Hitchcock could see that he was shaking slightly, his jumpsuit trousers were distended in the front but he was making no move to touch himself.

‘Well done, perfectly to time. Why do you think I have asked you here this evening?’ Kate’s face remained carefully neutral throughout, her arms were crossed behind her, forcing her breasts to press against the material of her uniform, she cocked her head to the side.

‘For, for…’ Lucas’ tongue felt suddenly thick and unwieldy.

‘For sex?’ he nodded at her and her face hardened, ‘No Lucas, no sex for you tonight. Take it off. All of it.’

Lucas hung his head in shame. There was to be no release for him tonight. He undressed briskly, careful not to conceal himself from her.

‘Have you touched yourself, boy?’ Hitchcock gripped his chin and made him look squarely into her face.

‘No, Lieutenant.’ Lucas was glad he had refrained, she would have known for sure. He still blushed when she asked him questions like that, the tips of his ears began to colour.

Hitchcock was certain he wasn’t lying to her; the look on his face was the same hang-dog expression he had worn in the past. She let his chin drop again so he wouldn’t see the look of triumph that crossed her face.

‘Why are you still wet? Are you unable to dry yourself? Do you need to be taught?’ Hitchcock began to circle Lucas, her face inches from his flesh. He could feel her breath on his exposed skin. Reaching out she ran a single finger tip over his belly. He shuddered violently, his erection lurching up.

‘No, I was afraid I’d, I’d…’ his ears coloured again.

‘You were afraid you’d cum, weren’t you?’ Hitchcock could barely keep the exultant tone out her voice; this was what true mastery was all about. She looked again at his naked form, appraising it.

‘You know Lucas; I think we can do without… this.’ Her hand yanked a couple of blonde hairs out of his groin; he jumped and yelped, ‘What do you think.’

‘I want…’ Her voice cut across his – ‘You fucking want! Wrong fucking answer!’ Last time she’d pulled out a couple of hairs, this time Hitchcock grabbed and twisted many more. Lucas didn’t yelp. He groaned. ‘Guess what the right answer is.’ She twisted again.

‘Yes, Lieutenant.’ Lucas hissed out through gritted teeth. She released him.

‘Well done. Here, use this.’ She tossed him a hair trimmer, he thumbed it experimentally and watched the toothed blades snick back and forth. He looked back up at her.

‘I don’t know how…’ Again the lost expression. Hitchcock thrilled to see the lost expression. She snatched the cutters from his hand and pushed him against the wall.

‘Must I do everything, Wolenczak? Don’t bother to answer.’ She clicked the guard covering the blades to 6 and ran an experimental pass across the hair above his cock, cuttings fell to the floor. ‘Hmm.’

Hitchcock stood back and looked appraisingly at his groin, not bothering to look at his face. ‘Almost,’ she stepped in and ran the scale down to three and ran her pass again, ‘But not quite. That’s much better.’

‘What do you think?’ She gestured towards the mirror and Lucas looked at himself, the almost bare skin standing out white against his stomach.

‘Yes, Lieutenant.’ ‘Good boy. Stand still for me.’

Hitchcock worked quickly, taking the hair off above his cock, leaving the trail that lead to his navel. When all that was gone she went to the basin, ran a flannel in the cold water before standing in front of him, looking him square in the eye and slapping the ice cold cloth to his balls. Lucas inhaled violently, his nipples stiffening and gooseflesh suddenly appearing. His balls drew themselves suddenly up, high and hard. Hitchcock held the cloth until it warmed, the second he moved himself against her hand she stepped away.

With a broad smile on her face she ran the clipper over his scrotum, finally squeezing his stones in their bag when she finished. Lucas exhaled, he had been trying to hold his breath and keep still as she worked. When would this be over?

‘Nice. On the bunk. On your back, hold your legs behind your knees. Show yourself to me.’ Lucas obeyed, curling himself so his ass showed, his erection pressed painfully into his stomach leaking pre-cum onto his pale skin. Again Hitchcock ran the flannel under that cold tap before slapping the sopping material onto him and watching him flinch. The hair around his anus and behind his balls went the way of all the rest. She pressed un-necessarily on his asshole as she worked.

‘Good boy. Stay there a minute.’ She took her camera out and photographed him curled there. His over full balls had dropped heavily down towards his face. Hitchcock had an idea.

As the smile crept across Hitchcock’s face, Lucas became apprehensive. He felt very exposed, bent over as he was his knees touching his shoulders and his raging erection jammed into what felt like his navel.

‘How far over can you bend, I wonder?’ Katherine mused aloud, beginning to run her fingers over his thighs, edging closer to his pink balls. ‘Could you put your feet on the bulkhead, Lucas?’

‘Would you like me to try, Lieutenant?’

‘I think I would,’ she touched the newly shaved skin between his testicles and anus as they spoke, ‘If we find out you can, I think I might change my mind about that orgasm.’

He needed no further encouragement, but lifting his back even further from the thin mattress and propping himself against his hands Wolenczak managed to get his feet onto the bulkhead the bed itself was bolted to. He looked across at Hitchcock and realised that she wasn’t looking at his face but at his groin, the change in position had brought him eye to eye with his erect cock. A heavy droplet of clear fluid fell against his neck.

‘I’d like you to hold it there, I think.’ Hitchcock’s voice had fallen to a murmur; she slid onto the bed and knelt behind him. Her torso now helped to prop Lucas up. Leaning forward she passed her hand between his thigh and stomach and began to flick his foreskin back and forth. Lucas groaned.

Hitchcock was using a reversed grip on him, her thumb and forefinger gripped near the junction of cock and balls, the little finger skimmed across the ridge of his glans as she slowly manipulated him.

His breaths came in ragged puffs, Hitchcock knew that there was no way he could last long. His soft, heavy balls were lifted and rolled as she came to the top of her stroke, experimentally she took a pinch of scrotal skin twixt thumb and forefinger as she pulled and pushed at his cock-skin. Lucas hissed a little at that, at first.

Within two minutes his balls had tightened and lifted themselves into the air. Hitchcock leant forward and took a sliver of skin between her teeth and pulled at them. Lucas’ breath faltered a little at that.

Lucas managed to concentrate for a moment; Hitchcock kept up an infuriatingly steady stroke on his cock, but he could feel her saliva running against his thighs and back across his asshole. The tightness from his balls told him that his orgasm wasn’t far off, and the way Hitchcock had him locked in told him that he wasn’t going anywhere, concern about where his cum was going to go when it came flickered through his mind.

Hitchcock could feel his orgasm coming on; his cock was swelling in her hand, the top beginning to bloat and flair, the tension in his balls she could feel through her teeth. She took aim, almost, with his engorged tool, sucked his balls into her mouth and began to hum.

That was all it took, Lucas tensed and almost sat up through his own quivering calves. The first thin shots of cum hit his shoulders, he slumped a little and the rest flooded out of him, Hitchcock played his cock around like a fire hose. Lucas had cum on his chest, chin and cheeks when she had finished milking it out of him. He blacked out for a moment and came to glassy eyed. Obviously his breathing had been impaired but Hitchcock didn’t rise to allow him to unfold, she leant forward to take in the sight of his cum splashed face, revelling in it.

Lucas felt her fingers on his face and he opened his mouth to speak, as he did so Hitchcock shoved her cum soaked fingers into the orifice. Lucas swallowed reflexively. He gagged a little on the strange bitter sweet taste. Alike and yet unlike the taste of Hitchcock when she came. Again, she had made him ashamed.

She had her face pressed close to his and had the infuriating smirk on her lips. ‘What do we say, Wolenczak?’

‘Thank you, Lieutenant.’ She smiled at his pleasantry, ‘May I get up?’

‘You may, but only because it pleases me. Did you like the taste of your cum?’ He nodded, knowing this to be the right answer for her. She moved and he gingerly unbent himself listening inside for the telltales of stress or breakage, there was none.

‘Perhaps I should arrange a special treat next shore leave. I’ll get a man and I’ll share you with him. Me in your arse and him in your mouth. How would that be?’

Lucas could see that the thought pleased her, he stood next to the bed in front of her and began to wank himself to a full erection. Hitchcock licked her lips and looked up at him, the blobs of cum running down his body, she reached out again and began to rub some of it into his nipples.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ Her hand stayed on his torso, playing with the lines and creases in his skin. Lucas began to pull harder and faster at himself.

‘I want to cum for you, again, Lieutenant.’

‘Where do you want to cum on me, Wolenczak?’ Her eyes flashed at him, a dangerous moment. He faltered for a moment. She ran the zip down on her top and reach inside to touch her stiffened nipple.

‘On your face, in your mouth.’ She smiled; there was an edge of desperation and fear in his voice.

‘And what if I allow this, what will I get out of it?’ This time Lucas’ stroke did not waver.

‘Next shoreleave, I’ll do what you like with who ever you choose. Please?’

She didn’t answer, at least not in words, she knelt in front of him, opened her mouth, held the backs of his thighs and waited. It didn’t take long. With a groan Lucas began to squirt semen at her face and at her open mouth. Hitchcock took his benediction in silence, revelling in the feeling of absolute control that came with every last jump and twitch of his cock. The boy swayed like a tree in the wind before recovering and looking down into her exultant cum-spattered face.

What have I done? He asked himself.