Ferry Ride to Find Mikie

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Em was sitting in her car on the Bremerton to Seattle ferry ride. Everything was normal as it always is. Parked on the outer lower car deck watching the homes drift by for the slow, wake free, part of the trip, the narrow channel.

The car to her left was nosed up a couple of feet further forward, a purple Dodge Neon with two doors, started having some activity. The driver got out, a tall fellow. He did have some trouble getting up from such a low car. He looked around somewhat nervously.

He was a taller bearded fellow, a bear, in some circles. All she could see was a coat, a long trench coat. Other than nervous, he seemed a pleasant fellow. As he walked towards the bow of the ship, she could see below his trenchcoat and it was not anything she expected.

She could see black stockings and heels. Stockings with the black seam running up the back. Stiletto heels, the strap around the ankles, heels in the four-inch range, with little tiny padlocks locking the straps to the ankle. Now she understood the reason for his difficulty standing. She did not want to brave standing up in those.

Before she even let what she saw sink in, he disappeared into a side hatchway. Looking around, she is sure no one else even noticed. Those she saw were on their phone, reading, or otherwise not paying attention.

For fifteen minutes, nothing much happened, they exited the main channel and picked up speed across the sound to get to Seattle. Em got up out of her equally low Honda Civic, to get a stretch. She looked down into the Dodge, nothing abnormal, just empty. Walking over to the hatch, it said Mainitatance – Crew Only.

She tried the handle. It was unlocked but she chickened out and walked away. Em wondered to the starboard side to look out over the water, south towards Tacoma. Mt Rainier clear in the distance, seagulls flying around the ship, even another ferry.

Visions of heels, stockings, his face, were flowing through her mind. She has been to Seattle, had seen things, things not unlike this but it was so unexpected and … enjoyable.

Sitting back in her car, she again got lulled into the beating of the waves, the thrumming of the engines, cries of the gulls, and there was movement again. The maintenance hatch opened.

Turning her head quickly, she then froze to watch him come out and sneak a peek of what was going on. What came out the door was not what she expected, again it was a man, not the same man. Shorter, no beard, but again with a coat. His appearance was not bad but disheveled or disarranged seemed good acronyms for his appearance. A less pleasant face, with a hawk-like nose, turning it like the corvid. Fear in his eyes.

All this giving the appearance he seemed nervous to exit the hatchway but did so quickly once he made up his mind. One hand grasping the coat closed, the other holding keys. Moving into view, he was wearing pink stockings with small black dots and some very none matching blue flats.

The wind blew at the shorter coat, exposing all except where he had a death grip. Below was a black lace garter belt attached to the pink stockings, black satin panties with a pleasant bulge where none should be, and a stuffed matching bra. Some of the stuffing leaking around the edges, you know disheveled.

He jumped into the other man’s car, they must know one another. This is so unlikely to be a mistake or some strange tranny carjacking ring. She could see the relief on his face as he exhaled in a long sigh.

There was so much to take in. Em just sat there thinking about it all. Strikes against the bad coloring for the shoes but wow, what is going on here. Seemingly, in no time they docked and she had to disembark. Fastest one-hour ferry ride of her like.

All she knew was she needed to know more, a lot more. Time to investigate. Well, not today. She had a thing to do, but tomorrow. Right away, starting tomorrow.

Following Betturkey days, Em made sure to get a coffee from the little shop overlooking the waiting lot for the Seattle ferryboat. Finding a seat was easy to watch the cars getting ready for the 12:10 run. After a week, she was becoming disheartened that she might never see purple Neon again. On the seventh day, she saw the car pull up to the booth. After paying, it did something strange, it pulled over to an unused lane, right next to the booth and stopped. The same man was in the car and seemed to be chatting from a distance with the attendant.

She watched intently as more cars came into the booth and found a waiting line, sipping away on her coffee, hardly aware she was even drinking. After seven more cars entered, the Neon pulled into the end of lane one, even though lane two was shorter. Em worked it out that would get it into the starboard side of the ship and must get it onto the lower ramp about where he wanted to be loaded. Interesting.

Now she had plans for next Wednesday. Plans with a boat ride.

When the day did arrive, Em was ready. She had parked, got a coffee, the ticket for the next boat, and was traveling light, very light. In fact, she only had on a trench coat, sunglasses, comfy walking shoes, and lingerie.

Getting on the boat was a challenge, her heart was racing and she was sure everyone could tell she was nearly naked. She knew her coat was long enough. Em had buttoned every button, zippered every zipper, tied the belt. No breeze was going to flash anything but trepidation was gripping her. Walking aboard, she saw a flash of purple on the load deck. Heart and time were spinning, one faster than the other, she could not tell which.

Finally, after the launch, she worked her way down the to correct car deck, undoing zippers, buttons with shaky hands. Exiting the stairwell, she made sure the wind was at her back and she could fully understand the death grip on the coat. It wanted to whip about, not in the good whipping way.

She reached the hatchway with the Neon parked by it. The hawked nose man looking at her with wide eyes, trying to cover himself up again. Em smiled and wave, “Now or never,” she thought as she pulled the hatch.

It thudded with a mighty clunk of heavily padded steal on equally heavy insulated steal. Stairs lead down into a workshop. Moans could be heard over the thumping of the motor and waves.

Descending the stairs, her shoes silent.

“Did you forget something St…” came a question as she descended the last step.

Before Em was unquestionably a machine shop of sorts. Tools, piping, machines, containers, she barely noticed. Instead, she saw three men, two of whom were looking at her. The third man was the moaning man, he was clearly not distracted from his pleasure nor likely to be easy to do.

The third man was a shorter, stocky muscle-bound man, with his hands tied above his head. His legs were spread wide and equally tied to some equipment. Directly below him as a fuck machine clicking a cog up and down, up and down, to a rod with a flesh-colored dildo moving in time to the clicks. His back was to her to Em.

He was dressed in a short dress. An A-line dress with inch wide straps, a yellow dress with large white dots that only came down to his thigh but was tucked in the back, showing off his dimpled butt cheeks. Click, click, click.

The other two men, one being tied into a spanking bench and the other one doing the tying were dressed fully slutty. The one standing was the pleasant-looking man, bear of a man. Not only was he in the same heels with the padlocks, but the same stockings. The stockings were held up to his thigh by a black lacy garter belt. Over the garter belt was some way too small silky bikini panties that form-fitted nicely to the partly erect cock. To top it off, Betturkey Giriş he has a matching bikini bra that did not contain any of his muscular pecs.

Lastly, the man half strapped into the spanking bench was dressed in a pink teddy and looked a size too small, in that it was buried in his ass and biting into his shoulders. He was looking in outright fear, the flight instinct clearly has taken hold but with an arm flailing, little he could do.

“Um, Miss, um, crew only down here.” The dominant second man said but seemed unsure what to say.

“But boys, I came to impress and I came to play.”

With that, Em throws open her coat, it dropping off her arms and onto the floor.

“See peacock blue to match your fabulous taste in clothing.”

True to her word, She stood before them in only a short camisole top that only came to the base of her breasts with her arms down, currently, they were not. The tap pants on the bottom matched in color and fabric was a French cut high waisted style giving a very deep V to her womanhood. Neither item was at all opaque. The only other item on her, except for the walking shoes were a custom set of wrist bracers in matching peacock. Each bracer fit tightly on her forearm, having multiple tie points. She did not wear the matching calves since those would have been visible and the rings chime, drawing attention to them.

Number two spoke again, “Well, this is a boys club.”

Em was ready for this, “Call me Mikie,” she said defiantly.

“Aaahhhh.” clicky, click.

So Mikie got to know the boys of the boat. Ed, the dom, Steve, the one with a bad taste in shoes, Jeff on the fuck machine who still might not know she is here, and Paulie all but forgotten, partly tied to the spanking bench.

Once Mikie mentioned the three B’s, Ed went into action to make sure she meant it, an initiation of sorts. Half-inch rope was pulled out and soon spread eagle in the center of the room. More of the low hanging pipes ensnared her arms wide by the bracers.

With her shoulders forced to be raised, her ample breasts dangled free, exposed below the whimsey of the camisole. Ed took them in for a moment to trace his fingers all the way around each one, followed by a harch smack of his full palm straight in each boob with his hand. She moaned in both passion and pain.

Ed walked over to retrieve more rope. Mikie marveled at how he moved in the heels. Each foot placed just in front of the other, hips swaying, and when he bent over, the large bulge in the panties getting larger. Standing and spinning like a runway walker, he moved like a natural.

“Why the padlock, sir?” Mikie dares to ask.

“My wife wants to make sure only she can take them off when she wants them off,” Ed answered unabashedly.

“Nice lady,”

“No, not at all,” Ed responded with a smile. “She is my top and she will use my bottom harshly when I get home. Likely even more harshly once I tell her of the newest ‘boi’ to the club.”

“She sounds divine,”

“Humpf,” was all he said as he pulled each leg as far as they would go but still allow Mikie to remain mostly balanced. Each section of rope was longer since the middle of the room was further to any quick tie points.

Mikie watched his every move, taking in the hairy barrel chest, the way the bra conformed to it. His lingerie fit him so well, moving with him, accenting his form and shape. Maybe he could teach her how to walk in such tall heels. Clearly, he limited bending over, instead of bending at the knees and hips like a powerlifter. That seemed to offer him incredible balance going up and down.

Ed began to ensnare her breasts in the quarter-inch cord. A harness went around below them and over the shoulders wrapping under and over the cord in the front, taunt buy not over tight. From there, each strand was worked tightly around Betturkey Güncel Giriş each of her large ample breasts, looping over and over. The pain level increased with each wrap, each breast becoming ridged, the nipple pointing in full attention. The coils were secured to the harness drawing the harness tighter in turn.

Once complete, Ed stepped back to marvel at how the binding came out by tracing a finger, one at a time around the edges of each mushroomed breast. The pain Mikie was feeling was intense, never having them bound this tight before, causing her to pant. She jumped when he very lightly pinched her nipple. Pain, exquisite pain shot through her deep in her core.

“Breath slower, boi,” Ed sternly told her and he repeated on the other breast.

Mikie complied feeling the dizziness she did not know she felt begin to fade. Never has anyone bound her quite like this, the pain level was higher than she had ever felt from her boobs, it was not lessoning but she could bask in it. The meer touch of even the fluttering camisole bought a kind of pain she had not expected.

“Oh … thank you … master,” she got out. “Never … never …”

“Shhhh, just enjoy.”

Mikie could not really see, she just felt. She was fully subjugated by the strain, torture. Throughout her body, her pulse thrummed away. Even the pulse adding to the effect. Bathing in the pain, there were spikes, ebbs, even lulls, but it was everpresent.

Bits and pieces of time came and went, she knew Ed had moved off to lube Jeff’s dildo and restart the toy. Finish binding Paulie and proceed to give him a proper English tanning. Things happened around her but she was in her own little world. Moaning, cries, clacking, spanks, noises of joy.

“Mikie, Mikie?”

Snapping out of her daze, she responded: “Yes, master?”

“Your drooling and over your pretty clothing. It is time to take this off, your breasts are quite distended and discolored. The blood must flow. This is going to hurt, a lot.”

“Take … take a picture first,” she begged, he only chuckled.

Tugging, pulling, as he undid the cord, sure there was pain and she gasped. Not much changed. Not sure what he was talking about a lot.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA,” she screamed at the top of her lungs both of her breasts burst into fire, an explosion of pain beyond everything she felt in her life coming at once. White, red, black, blue, all the colors were washing over in her vision. She climaxed, not building to it, just all at once, overwhelming, and everywhere.

Dased, confused, but conscience, she came out of her bliss curled in Ed’s arms on a bed. Paulie massaging her feet. Jeff holding water at the ready, which was gone seconds after.

“Thanks,” she said breathy, horse.

“Anytime stud,” Jeff said as he sashayed over to the counter to fetch more water. Her dress still not pulled down, with a full moon shot. He bent at the knees and looked to see who was watching.

The answer, everyone.

“You can rub my feet anytime, Paulie. I will wear pantyhose next time.”

“Oh, you tease me so.”

Looking up at Ed, “Thank you, Master. That was intense, beyond anything …”

“Shhhh, again, my sexy cub. I should have gotten you down sooner but Paulie needed to be pounded while his ass was still sore from the spanking. We both just got wrapped up in watched your exquisite moans. The tantalizing swap of your body.”

“Welcome to the ‘Boys Club'” Ed said with the most passionate series of kisses along my neck and chin. I could but only smile.

“I wanna watch next time. I missed both shows.” a pouting Jeff said leaning down on them, water bottle now handed over to Mikie.

“Bitch, please. If we did that, you’d just want more ‘personal’ attention.” Paulie quipped as the two seated men extracted themselves from me. “Drama queens, Pisha,” Paulie whispered to Mikie as he stood.

“I heard you,” as he skipped across the room, ass jiggling to and fro.

Ed laughed as he eloquently walked after both of them.

I fell asleep bruised, content, gratified, watching the two boys pummel Jeff in both ends. That dress needed cleaning.

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