I get busted trespassing on Gov't property. A pretty MP takes me in for punishment. Turns out she had an ulterior motive.
Chapter 74:
LOCKED UP
In total darkness, before the sun had shown her smiling face, my eyes crept open. My hardness was evident, it throbbed between my legs. I lay quietly, enjoying the gentle rocking of the boat, listening to the waves lapping against the hull. I was being hypnotized back into the land of dreams when Dani, lying next to me, stirred. I felt the warmth of her body against mine, making my wood twitch and quiver. Instinctively, my hand surrounded her breast, squeezing gently. Her moan gave me permission to roll on top. Her legs parted, giving me permission to enter her and relieve the pressure now raging in my nether regions.
After getting Dani to shore and into a taxi headed to the bus station, I readied the Love Boat for the final leg of my journey. Once all was shipshape, I cast off from St. Augustine headed northbound on the Intracoastal Waterway. It was nearly 50 miles up the protected “ditch” to the deepwater St. Johns inlet. This is where the St. Johns river, flowing south to north, flows past the thriving metropolis of Jacksonville, Florida, turns east and then empties into the Atlantic Ocean. Right before the ocean there is a large military installation, the Mayport Naval Station. The Intracoastal crosses the St. Johns river between downtown Jacksonville and the Navy base.
I had gotten a relatively early start. A 50 mile passage would take around 10 hours, and I hoped to get there in one day. Fortunately, there were no pesky “open only on schedule” bridges along the way. Having fueled up before I left, I ramped up my trusty Yanmar to red line and charged ahead.
The day went by uneventfully. No shallow spots, no low bridges, no confusing turns in the channel. Smooth sailing as we say, although boring as shit. Imagine just standing at the helm, guiding a 40 foot boat between the channel markers, watching the scrub onshore gliding past slowly, dodging the occasional boater ignoring the rules of the road. I kept one hand on my cock most of the way just to keep myself in the game.
Even though I had gotten an early start and the journey had been event free, it was turning twilight as I approached the St. Johns river. I frantically searched my charts for somewhere to safely anchor or a friendly dock. At the junction of the Intracoastal Waterway and the river, there are large areas of shallow water and mudflats on either side of the “Ditch,” part of the river delta. My charts showed that there were a few deeper tributaries cutting through these shoals with residential areas at the end.
The river I was headed toward was very wide and deep. Not only was there a naval station with warships, Jacksonville is also a deepwater port used by cargo freighters and cruise ships. In the interest of safety and not enamored with the prospect of navigating among jumbo boats in the dark in unfamiliar waters, I entered one of the deeper tributaries shown on my chart hoping to be able to drop my keeper or tie off somewhere along the way, out of the Intracoastal proper. My depth gauge showed a consistent 6 to 7 feet of water under me, so I slowly chugged my way along.
Eventually, I saw some buildings and a seawall ahead. The buildings were a mix of long apartments rows and small single-family bungalows. Google Earth identified them as enlisted personnel housing, ostensibly for the nearby naval installation. By now the sun was below the horizon affording only minimal light. Having no other real alternative, I pulled alongside the beginning of the first seawall I came to and tied off.
My resting spot was adjacent to the end building, one of the small bungalow houses. As I surveyed my surroundings I saw, much too late, the sign announcing “US GOV’T PROPERTY. NO TRESPASSING. VIOLATORS SUBJECT TO ARREST.” Oh, shit! I’ve done it now. Too late and too dark to move anywhere. I had no alternative but to lay low and see what happened. Wary and on guard, I went below to hide and have a stiff drink or two to calm my nerves.
Just as I emptied my second drink in 10 minutes, there was the dreaded knock on the hull. “Hello … Blow Me … Anybody aboard?” Busted. Stalling an appropriate amount of time, I poured a third tumbler of pain killer. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. Louder rapping on the hull. In a stern female voice “Blow Me! … Blow Me! … Captain! Respond.”
I slid open the companionway hatch and stepped up halfway, so I was only visible from the waist up. There stood a trim and fit young lady. She was dressed in pure white Navy fatigues, trim pants, collared shirt with epaulets on her shoulders, some colored bars above her left breast, and the obligatory name badge: Locke. Her hair was dark and had been hastily stuffed up under her official white captain’s hat, a few locks and some wispy ends flew free in the light breeze. Her body was classic hourglass, perfectly proportioned. From what I could see in the fading sun, she had a very pleasant face. She had a large flashlight and was shining it around my cockpit, examining it. When I appeared, she trained the flashlight my direction.
“What’s your name?” she barked at me.
“I’m Sailor. Is there a problem, ma’am?”
“You’re damn right there is, Sailor. You’re trespassing on Federal Land. Now close your boat. You’re coming with me.” She said this in a commanding voice.
I knew it was futile, but I pleaded with her anyway. “I’ll leave now. But it wouldn’t be safe in the dark. And you look like a caring young lady … please, can’t I stay here until the morning? I promise I’ll be gone by sunrise. Please?”
She whipped out a pair of handcuffs from her backside and pointed the flashlight directly in my eyes. I flinched and held my arms up to block the blinding light. She yelled at me, “GET OUT OF THE BOAT NOW!! YOU’RE UNDER ARREST!!” Fuck.
I slugged down the rest of my third bracer and climbed ashore to meet my fate. Realizing that I had no other option, I turned and put my hands behind my back, waiting for the cold steel and lock shock. It didn’t come. I turned my head glancing over my shoulder and Locke was standing there looking me up and down. She had her hip rocked to one side and her opposite leg splayed out. She was holding one cuff in her hand, toying with the other loop. She had an inquisitive expression on her face, biting her lip and tilting her head as she examined her catch. The porch light from the bungalow revealed that she was as pretty as any fashion model.
Stupidly but a little rattled I said, “Well, aren’t you going to cuff me?”
She started off in a soothing voice, “I’m still trying to decide what to do with you, Sailor man.” Then she suddenly bolted straight upright, taking on a stern expression and fixed her glare on me. She commanded me “Turn around, hands in front. NOW!” She wasn’t delicate installing the cuffs on me. She slammed it down painfully on my wrist with the resounding sound of banging metal. It hurt and I muttered an obscenity. Then the other hand, equally rough, eliciting yet another obscenity. Using her police size flashlight, she prodded me in the back. “This way, Sailor.”
The inside of the bungalow she led me to was basic, adequate, military issue stark. It was drab with no color accent in sight, and the lights were ceiling mount fluorescent, casting a pall over the space. The living room only had a couch along the wall with an end table. She pushed me into the center of the room and ordered me to get undressed. “That should ensure that you don’t try to escape and will be part of your punishment.”
“Punishment?” I naively asked.
“START STRIPPING NOW, SAILOR!”
I struggled to undress with cuffs on. I looked at her with pleading eyes and held up my wrists. She stepped over to the kitchen counter and picked up a thin leather strap with a handle on one end and a knot on the other. SMACK SMACK. She lashed me across my back twice in rapid succession. It fucking hurt like hell, and I cried out in pain.
“You have violated Federal Law, asshole. You must be punished. You will speak only when spoken to. From now on you will address me as ‘Dame Locke’ and only as ‘Dame Locke.’ You will do as I say.” She bore the leather strap across my back twice more to emphasize her control. SLAP SLAP. The pain lit up my whole back. “Now get those clothes off. NOW!” She gave me one more swipe before stepping around in front of me.
I fumbled getting my shorts down and boxers off. I wanted to cover my junk but had to wrestle with my tee shirt. I eventually got it up and over my head, but because of the cuffs it was stopped at my wrists. She grabbed a kitchen knife and cut it away. I was now totally exposed to her roaming eyes and very much in fear. I instinctively covered my goods with my cuffed hands.
“What do you say, Sailor?”
“Thank you, Dame Locke.”
She put the knife away and stepped close. Casting her gaze on my body, she began stroking me, rubbing, and sliding her hands all over me. She touched parts inappropriate for a military punishment. She had taken off her captain’s hat, letting her long brown hair fall to the shoulders of her crisp white uniform, making a very attractive vision. She simultaneously pinched one nipple and grabbed my junk firmly.
“How does it feel to be under my command, Sailor?”
“Good, Dame Locke”
She squeezed my nipple very hard and tightened her grip on my cock. She had a way about her that was mesmerizing and the pain she was inflicting almost felt good. She made it feel as if the pain and the shock of being naked and helpless was somehow necessary to be close to her. I was getting aroused and my dick stiffened up. She let go and stepped behind me again. She slapped the leather thong across my ass three times rapidly. I winced as the jolt of pain shot through my pelvis and down my legs. My dick seemed to benefit as he was now fully erect and throbbing. “That’s better” she said. “You like it when I make your dick hard, don’t you?”
“Yes, Dame Locke.”
Once more she slashed her leather across my back, just above the hips. It hurt like hell, and I yelped out in agony.
She stepped back in front of me and dropped to her knees. She took my rigid cock between her fingers and looked up at me. She had a very pretty face and all I could think about was having her mouth engulf it. Her mouth opened and she used her teeth, not her lips, to scrape against his glans. Then another inch, just with her teeth. She wasn’t biting down hard, just lightly scraping them across the sensitive skin. She continued this several times before wrapping her lips on him and sucking gently, rocking two inches in and out. My dick was reacting by jerking and pulsing.
She stood up again and, as if leaning in for a kiss, she got her face very close to mine and squeezed my balls tightly saying, “Not yet, Sailor. Do you want to cum?”
“Yes, Dame Locke.”
“You must earn that pleasure through punishment, Sailor.” She wrenched down on my testicles causing me to double over in pain. “Now, on your knees, Sailor.”
With the handcuffs still on, I awkwardly found my way down onto my knees. As I was spastically writhing to get on my knees with handcuffs on, I saw that she was pulling her pants and briefs down. Naked only from the waist down, she stepped in front of my face. She pushed her muff onto my face and swished it side to side.
“Do you like my bush, Sailor?”
“Yes, Dame Locke.”
Then she got on her knees in front of me, facing away so that her ass was in my face. “Now rim my asshole. Tongue fuck it as hard as you can.”
“Yes, Dame Locke.”
The only thing wrong at this point were the handcuffs and the beatings. The beatings had served to allow her to control me. But the pain from the lashings had melted away when her mouth first touched me. Being stripped naked had been humiliating. Standing naked and handcuffed in front of such an attractive woman had made me want to run and hide. And now I had a small, dark spot in front of me, waiting for attention.
I put my cuffed hands up on the top of her butt and leaned forward. My tongue found its mark, and I did my best. I’d circle it with my tongue, tickling and flicking it against her center. With my hard pointed tongue touching her tiny hole, she would pinch and loosen her anus and rock her hips back and forth trying to get as much tongue inside as possible.
Soon she rose. I sat back on my haunches, with my stiff dick sticking up between my cuffed hands. “That was nice, Sailor.”
“Yes, Dame Locke.”
“Now get over to the couch and get seated. Do it NOW, Sailor.” “Yes, Dame Locke.”
She swatted her leather switch against my buttocks in a flurry of several quick strokes. This made me scramble in a great effort and struggle to crawl on knees and elbows to the couch and pull myself up. While I was doing so, Locke briefly left the room. When she returned with still only her bottom half exposed, she saw that my member had deflated halfway from all the exertion.
“Unacceptable, Sailor. Pump him up, now!” she commanded. It’s not easy to jack off with handcuffs on but I tried. She had a jar of Vaseline in her hand, and she got a glob on her finger and reached it around to apply it to her ass. She took another glob and smeared it on my tool, sliding her hand up and down to spread it around and to ensure a nice hard cock. Then she turned around and pulled her ass cheeks apart. With one hand she guided my dick to its place and pressed him into play. My cock popped into her asshole and began disappearing inside her. She gently rocked up and down, eventually grabbing my scrotum to ensure her intended result.
Being restrained by a beautiful woman, controlling my actions, and rocking her asshole up and down on me, caused a natural orgasm. Instinct took over and I cried out as I shot into her, my hips jerking. It was all over in a flash. My eyes fluttered and shut.
The next thing I knew, she was standing in front of me, in her full uniform, unlocking the cuffs. It felt like I had just been torn from a pleasantly disturbing dream, not ready to be awake, wanting to go back.
“Mr. Sailor, my superiors have authorized me to allow you to sleep on your boat tonight. Do not leave your boat for any reason, cameras will be watching. You must disembark at dawn and never return here. Understood?”