Jumping from my bunk I rushed to the deck to see that the peaceful ocean had become a wind whipped torrent as a summer storm hit in full fury. Blinkin... my eyes to clear the blinding spray from them I saw my mother leaning over the rail, desperately calling out my father's name. Rushing to her side, I yelled over the crashing waves and howling winds. "He got swept overboard!" My mother cried back, her face covered in sea spray and tears as she scanned the choppy surface of the sea. "The storm. The things I would do to you..." It was signed "Steven". I read and reread the email wondering who could have sent it.The whole week I received emails, each one getting me hotter and hotter. "Steven" would tell me that my body looked ripe for making a baby, that my breasts could fill out nicely. Each one I would secretly masturbate thinking of Steven taking me. After reading one email I replied "what if i try to resist, I am married you know." to which Steven replied "That matters little to me. ?That’s what you are, isn’t it?? She dropped me back onto the floor with a thud.??Owww!? She giggled at my expression of pain, then turned me over onto my chest. She slapped some thick cuffs onto my wrist and linked them together with chain. ?There, that should be enough to hold you. Let me free you up a bit.? She pulled a knife from her pocket and cut away the ropes that bound my arms, then began to cut through the green sun dress that my friends bought me for my nineteenth. Smiling she asked what she could do for him sending a small, brief jolt to his brain thence vaguely below his belt. Certain that his face reflected his sexual tension and fearful that he might stammer, he said (was it higher than his usual register?), "Well, you could show me your (slight pause as he realized that they hadn't yet had the opportunity to develop a sexual language, then an election and hope for an appearance of composure) pussy." Her smiling face took on a look of mild amusement.
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