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Part 42
🕑 Added 2021-11-17 07:00:02 +0000 UTCAmira rang the ship’s bell, and the crew gathered on deck to see Milisandia strutting in front of Laurala, whose hands were bound behind her back. “Sadly, it seems that we have a stowaway. We need to make it clear what it means not to follow orders on my ship. Since this is the first violation of the trip, I will be lenient. This…Laurala is a weather witch. She was not on our crew manifest, because we have the services of the zephyr Haramara, who is far superior. She was told to remain, but she seems to have a problem with orders. Carlotta here tells me she had no idea that her former crewmate ignored her commands. I will let her slide this one time, but if any of her other associates wants to ignore orders, she will pay the price with them next time.”
This part received an approving smirk from Gabbi.
Milisandia cleared her throat and continued. “You—Laurala…strip.”
Laurala had been very careful, even in her years aboard the ship never to be undressed in front of her shipmates. She’d sacrifice sleep, waiting for those on her watch to fall asleep before disrobing, or she’d sleep in the same clothes she had been wearing. She was very self-conscious about her body.
Her pause was noticed by the captain, whose voice grew angry. “Strip!” The entire crew laughed as she removed her blouse and rolls of knotted bandage fell out. She immediately covered her chest, denying them the view. “If I have to tell you again!” the Captain threatened.
Laurala dropped her yellow sash to the ground, and started pulling down her skirt. Doing so opened her up to view. “Looks like a bee stung you!” Mara called out. “There’s no room for treasure in that tiny chest!” Jaqara taunted. “But wait, look at those panties!” Vida laughted. “And that huge butt!” Rosa added.
As she peeled off her large, white panties, her smooth-shaved womanhood came into view. Stripped of all except her jewelry, she looked at Milisandia as if to say “Satisfied?!”
But Milisandia was nowhere near done with her yet. She pointed to a large barrel on deck. “Get that over here, I want her tied to it!” she ordered. And the crew scrambled to make it so. Twenty minutes later, Laurala’s ample backside was crisscrossed with red welts from Amira’s lash, and tears were running down her eyes.
Milisandia, after an uncomfortably long lashing, raised her hand to signal an end to that part of the torture. “I hope Laurala has demonstrated the perils of not following orders aboard my ship. If she steps out of line again, the punishment will be much worse. Amira here will be my hand of discipline. And whip of discipline, I suppose. Don’t cross me, and her lash won’t taste your hide. As for you, Laurala, you’ll be scrubbing the decks every morning watch and emptying chamber pots every evening. But what’s more, is you’ll do these tasks in your current state of dress. Perform them well, for an extended time, and I’ll consider letting you earn your clothes back. For now, we’ll leave you tied there until evening watch. The rest of you, back to your stations! And remember what you just witnessed!”
