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enjoyment from his punishment, Emily had no intention of submitting to him again.
    She rubbed her aching wrists, conscious of her nudity but unembarrassed.
    ‘Take her down below,’ Captain Wilde snapped.
    Emily glanced up and realised he was talking to the dark-haired woman who had been punished in the pilothouse.
    ‘Get her cleaned up and prepared for dinner,’ he continued. Then, glancing at Emily, he told her, ‘We’ll talk over food.’
    Emily bit back an angry retort, glaring furiously at the captain’s unreadable black eyes.
    The captain met her gaze, his lips twisted in a smile of contempt. His disapproval for her was obvious as he boldly studied her naked body. The curl of his sneer could not have been more pronounced. Without another word, the captain turned and marched away.
    *   *   *
    As the shower’s spray poured over her, Emily tried to get the memory out of her mind. The cool water should have a cleansing effect, she thought. Just as it removed the light trace of sweat from her naked body, it should have been able to purge the unwanted recollections from her mind.
    Using the soap on her breasts, Emily massaged the two orbs until they were coated with a rich, creamy lather. Her nipples still ached from the punishment they had received earlier. She felt them tingle with pained excitement as she soaped herself. Each time her hands made a circle against the yielding flesh, she felt her breath deepen to a ragged gasp.
    Her arousal was made worse by the recurring memory of Captain Wilde brandishing his cane. Her body was marked with stripes and her bruised nipples ached when she touched them. The fact that she had enjoyed the beating was confusing to say the least. The memory of her experience kept recurring to her like the melody of a popular tune. In spite of the humiliation and discomfort, the most poignant thing she remembered was the intense pleasure.
    ‘Stop it!’ she cautioned herself, aware of the way her own lascivious fingers were stimulating her. ‘You don’t want to start doing that again, do you?’ Her hands made one last circle on her breasts and then she bravely moved the soap away. She took comfort from the thought that the experience had left her with no psychological damage, even if the physical pain still lingered. It would have been easy to let the memory of this evening spoil her appetite for pleasure permanently. Wanting, but not daring to touch herself again, she held her chest beneath the shower’s spray and allowed the water to rinse her clean.
    It was easy enough to soap the rest of her body and she was beginning to feel more confident when another mental picture came to her.
    She closed her eyes and could see the captain in the pilothouse with the dark-haired woman, Dawn. He was standing over Dawn’s raised arse, his cane held high in the air. With her eyes pressed shut, she saw him bring it down again and again with malevolent ferocity. The thin strip of wood burnt bright red lines across the pale flesh of her gorgeous backside. The dark cleft of her sex was visible, the soft folds of her pussy lips pouting between the cheeks. Dawn squealed gratefully with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Enjoying the beating, she held her arse higher for him to strike her again.
    In the shower, Emily pressed the soap between her legs and began to gently rub it against the swollen heat of her sex. The cool water continued to pour over her breasts, exciting myriad tingling explosions of pleasure from the taut nubs of her aching nipples.
    Between her legs, the soap slid easily against the wetness of her labia. Emily caught her breath, amazed by the tidal wave of pleasure coursing through her. She had considered the image to be arousing in a dark sort of way but she had not realised it excited her to such an extent. After the humiliating experience she had endured at the captain’s hands, she had doubted she would ever feel dark longing like this.
    She pressed a finger against the