Page 44 of A Flash of Golden Fire

The dirty fucking bastard.

I cursed under my breath.

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘Yes, sir.’”

My arse throbbed with the remnants of my initiation to the whims of Captain Martin’s discipline, but perhaps remaining unclothed would prove a mercy. I picked up the stick from where it had fallen and dunked the mop into the soapy water. I meant to throw an angry glare at Captain Martin—who had moved to recline on the bed—as I began, but when I saw him with his own cock in hand, watching me as he lazily stroked himself, the glare turned into a gape. Mother of God, the infuriating man was truly enjoying my debasement. The bastard was more perverse than I.

But two could play at this game. I went back to my lowly duties but made sure to sway my rosy arse in his direction.

“Oh, my goodness, what on earth is this?” I asked, planting my feet wide apart and bending at the waist to pretend to examine a dirty spot on the floor. “Looks like a bit of blood.” I squatted down on the floor and reached around to scratch myself just above my arse crack, careful to avoid any tender areas.

I heard a soft moan from the bed. Aha. I had gleaned Captain Martin’s weakness, and it just so happened to be my pretty arse, scar and all.

I straightened up slowly and shook my head. Then I swiped the mop back and forth over the imaginary stain, with a manufactured ferociousness that hopefully made my muscles bunch and shudder in an attractive way. I surreptitiously peeked behind me.

Sure enough, the captain’s hand was moving quite quickly on his prick as he watched me with half-lidded eyes.

Chapter Six

Merrymaking

“Oh my, the air is so close in here,” I muttered, wiping my brow and pretending to be suffering from the heat. I glanced into the bucket. “Huh. This water’s gotten cold by now. I wonder if…”

I scooped a bit of soapy water in my hand as I turned to face the captain. He watched with an intense and captivated attention as I slapped my hand against my chest and let the soapy water drip down my body.

“Oh, that’s much better,” I sighed, following the trail of water with my hand and sliding my fingers down beside my now standing cock. Let him try to deny me now.

“You little fucker,” Captain Martin said, giving me a look that expressed how much he wanted to either fuck me or murder me. I couldn’t tell which.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Captain. Did I interrupt your self-reflection?”

“Get over here,” he said, stroking himself with some urgency. “No, wait. Leave the mop and come over here.”

“Yes, Captain,” I said, the glow of victory upon me. I did as he ordered and sauntered over to where he lay carelessly with his breeches down to his thighs, holding his gigantic cock as if he’d like nothing better than to beat me soundly with it.

“Get some of the oil and slick yourself up. Turn around so I can watch.”

“Yes, Captain,” I murmured, trying not to sound smug. I fought a smile as I poured some of the expensive oil into my hand. “Oops, it dripped onto my chest,” I muttered, smoothing slick liquid over my nipples and pectorals, whilst I turned and spread my legs. I poured more oil into my hand and reached behind me.

“Oh yes. That’s right, make yourself as slippery as a raw oyster for me,” the captain groaned.

I rubbed the oil all along my crack and polished my arsehole like I might a prized gem. I was rather fond of the thing, to be sure.

The captain let out a grunt and a sigh. “Use your fingers to fuck yourself, now.”

He sounded like he might erupt at any moment.

“Yes, Captain. Your wish is my command.”

I bent over and played with my hole, spreading the oil around and sticking my fingers in to get myself ready.

“O00h. Oooh,” he moaned, the sound of his hand moving back and forth over his prick echoing off the walls. “Oh, fuck yes. That’s perfect.” He stroked himself a bit more, and then his hand froze as he grimaced and closed his eyes. “Stop. Stop. Don’t move; don’t move.”

He was breathing heavily, and I wasn’t sure if he was speaking to me or to himself. He attempted to slow his breathing and calm down, and I imagined he had come close to finishing and was trying to stave off.

When his eyes opened, they were dark and aflame.

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