The white hulled fifty-foot cruiser looked beautiful as the morning sun cast its spell over her teak deck. Alexa slipped off her canvas deck shoes and stepped up through the side gate in the railing. The soft teak under her bare feet brought a stunning smile to her face as she turned towards John.

Stepping onboard behind her, he watched the smile of a true sailor. It thrilled him to have her all to himself. His invitation had taken him by surprise, but in retrospect had been inevitable. Because of their complex relationship in the workplace, he'd never allowed himself to imagine more, but over lunch on Tuesday his mind had not been subject to the same stringent controls.

He headed down the steps into the saloon, powered everything on and listened as the hum of the boat came to life. Packed with food, immaculate and ready to go, he reminded himself why he paid his crewman to live on board. His crewman enjoyed weekends ashore as much as he himself enjoyed taking Wind Dancer to sea. They didn't meet often and the arrangement was perfect for them both.

In white sports shorts and tee, Alexa explored the beautiful boat. Noting the positions of lines and equipment, she toured her paradise for the weekend. She'd agreed to an entire weekend on board. In theory, it put her in a vulnerable position, but she trusted John. Since his generous invitation to sail with him, she'd allowed herself to admit how much she liked him.

“Ready to cast off?” he called as she walked back down the port side.

She'd cast off her shorts and tee as Wind Dancer had cruised at five knots across the ocean. Lying back on the cushioned cockpit seating in only her aqua triangle bikini, she'd been admiring him in command of his boat. She'd caught him admiring her bum when she'd been bent over the capstan, reeling in the jib. She hadn't minded one bit. The heat of his gaze had encouraged her to strip down to her tiny bikini.

She looked up at him behind the wheel in only blue swim shorts. She'd admired his muscular legs in the car this morning, but now, steady on the deck, they were a fresh pleasure. His bare tanned chest, already speckled with dry sea salt, held her gaze.

Catching her watching, he looked her dead in the eye, his eyes posing a firm question.

“I like a man in control,” she said, smiling.

“I know.”

She laughed. “Yes, better than most. How do you feel about punishing the two of us?”

“I respect you both for the high standards you demand from yourselves.”

“And?” she asked.

He met her eyes. “I enjoy watching you both choose to be obedient when it's hard. Seeing you bend over in your underwear is pleasurable, even though it's for hard punishment.”

She smiled. “I wouldn't want you to dislike it.”

“No chance of that. You always have the cutest panties.”

Her smile widened to a grin. It was all the confirmation she needed. “Are you into me?”

“Yes. For longer than I realized.”

“Good,” she said. “I wouldn't want to have read the signals wrong.”

Watching him work the wheel was even more pleasurable entertainment, knowing he wanted her.

“Ready about,” he called.

She jumped up, positioned herself near the starboard jib line, and called, “Ready.”

“Helms alee,” he called.

She released the line and ducked under the boom as it swung across the boat. Jumping over to the port capstan, she wound it to tighten the jib, her powerful arms competing against the wind on the sail.

Locking off the line as Wind Dancer picked up speed, she looked ahead at a tiny cove she could only just make out in the distance. “Is that where we're heading?”

“Yes. It should be beautiful and calm once we pass the headland.”

She went to sit on the foredeck to observe their progress. Slower on the jib than she'd have liked, she imagined him calling her to the wheel for a strict scolding. Locking the wheel in place to keep the boat steady, he ordered her to kneel on the seating. Her face in the wind, she obeyed him, lowered her bikini bottoms and accepted his hard hand on her slow bottom. As salty spray swept over the foredeck and showered her face, she smiled. She wouldn't have minded a bit.

As they dropped the sails and motored into the cove in the late afternoon sun, the only other yacht was weighing anchor. Having the cove to themselves wrapped her in a special sense of peace. Something was going to happen with John tonight. The tension was palpable.

On command, she dropped the anchor, locking it off when he ordered. Walking back towards the wheelhouse, she said, “I'm going to take a shower, then I'll make us dinner.”

“Sounds great,” he smiled, grabbing his book and heading to the bow.

Teasing the salt from her hair, she was conscious of the amount of water she was using. Fresh water was a scarce resource on board. Any sailor worth his salt would cringe at her prolonged shower.

He'd shown her to the crew cabin in the bow and she'd left her backpack there, but it wasn't where she expected to sleep. Given their conversation, he must have expected she might join him in the aft master. Soaping herself for a second time to ensure her shower was plenty long enough, she turned off the water and stepped out to dry herself.

His footsteps in the main lounge sounded like he was pacing. She admired her bare bottom in the mirror and smiled; he'd make sure it was red before bed.

She hovered over her backpack and chose hot-pink bikini panties with ice cream sandwiches. He'd said he liked her cute panties. Good job she'd packed a selection. Adding a bright pink bra, she chose soft black cotton shorts and a fresh white tee. On the outside a clean sailor girl, beneath she smoldered in hot-pink.

Emerging into the galley, she switched on the oven and hunted out the pork sausages she'd spied earlier. Nothing fed sailors like sausages. Growing up, her twenty-two-foot sport cruiser didn't have a galley. She'd had to swim ashore and barbecue them on the beach.

“Good shower?” he asked, emerging from the master cabin in short black shorts and a loose blue tee.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Next time, half as long, please. The water tanks are 140 gallons, but it goes quicker than you think.”

“Sorry,” she said, ashamed.

As he passed through to the main saloon, a smile crept over her face. It was the firm telling-off she'd hoped for.

Adding creamy mashed potato and peas to the sausages, she carried the plates through to the table, joined him on the slate blue cushioned seating and tucked in, more hungry than she'd realized.

“About that shower,” she said, putting down her fork. “I'm sorry. It was thoughtless.”

He looked up from his food. “As an experienced sailor, you know better.”

“It was selfish, I'm sorry.”

He studied her. “Would you feel better if I punished you for it?”

“Very much.” She couldn't help smiling as her well-executed plan played out.

“After we clear up, we'll take care of matters, then sit on deck and watch the sun go down.”

While she finished up in the galley, he hunted around the boat. A deck shoe would deal with her. His were large enough, but he wanted it to be different, something personal between them. His hand could teach her a lesson, but she was used to hard punishments. In the master cabin, he rummaged through his weekend bag and pulled out a leather belt. Doubling it over, he flicked it against his other hand.

“Are you ready for me?” she said, standing in the doorway. She grinned and entered the cabin. “It looks like it.” Stepping up to him, she slid her arms around his waist and felt his hold enclose her. She softened into his hard chest. He had never held her and she was reluctant to let go.

“Are you trying to soften me up?” he asked.

She stepped out of his arms. “The opposite. I want you to care for me enough to give me a harsh belting. If it doesn't hurt when I sit and watch the sunset, I'll feel cheated.”

“Did you know what you were doing?”

“Yes,” she admitted, blushing with shame and embarrassment.

“That makes it worse. You could have just asked me to deal with you, instead of wasting water.”

“But I didn't,” she said, lowering her gaze to the carpet beneath her feet.

“No. You didn't. Water is a precious resource. It keeps us alive, clean and fed. Washing your hair is a luxury. You didn't need to bother, you already looked stunning.”

In fact, the salt played havoc with her brunette tresses, but she took his words to heart and let them punish her. Lifting her eyes to look at him, she felt small. “I'm sorry. I was selfish and thoughtless. Don't go easy on me. I knew what I was doing, and I went ahead, anyway. I deserve a thorough belting.”

“Drop your shorts.”

She eased her hands into the elastic and pushed her shorts to her ankles, revealing her hot-pink bikini panties dotted with ice-cream sandwiches.

He gestured to the bed with slate blue sheets. “Bend over.”

She turned and bent down over the firm bed, her forearms more comfortable than on his desk.

He admired her cute bent bottom. Among the array of her panties he'd seen, these topped the choice for cute and hot. The perfect, tight cotton outlined her curves, leaving plenty of bottom exposed.

Intense stings lit up her cheeks as the belt snapped across her behind. As the sting spread, the leather cracked into her cotton with a reliable rhythm, offering no reprieve.

“You poured valuable water down the drain.”

She had, he was right. Water at sea was crucial. Her instructor had drilled it into her. Her sex had got the better of her. After a day of burning under his ardent gaze, she'd been desperate for him to discipline her.

She leaned into the bed as he worked the leather down her cheeks and back up again. Each stroke added to the fury escalating in her behind. She pushed her bottom out further, welcoming his hard lashes and her deep humility.

“You wasted water to get punished.”

“Yes, John. I'm sorry.”

Pausing, he rubbed her bum. “You will be.”

Spreading and soothing her sting under his warm hand, his touch lowered to the tops of her thighs. “I'm going to give you six hard stokes here. They'll hurt like hell and show in your bikini or shorts. Suitable marks of shame, do you agree?”

“Yes, John.” Her heart pounded. He was everything she'd dreamed of - tough on her and fair. A heavy dose of shame was due. She'd display her red marks with respect.

She held still, drowning in a delicious mix of respect and desire. Fire spit across her tender flesh as the leather lashed her legs. She'd played games with him. She took his stiff rebuke. Her respect for him soared. The agony in her thighs burned deep as he branded her disobedience for all to see.

As she calmed her heavy panting, his tender fingers stroked her shoulder. “You may get up.”

She stood and stepped into his open arms. He held her tight. “You're a good girl,” he said into the top of her head.

“I deserved it. Thank you for belting me, I feel better.”

“Even though I was tough on you?”

“Because you were tough on me. I'm proud of it. I deserve my shame to be on show.” She reached up on tiptoes and kissed him. He smelled of fresh sea air but tasted of hot, tough man. Her bottom burned in his arms as his lips ravaged hers. He swept her up, laid her on the double bed, kicked down his shorts and pulled off his tee. Standing in short black boxers, he watched her shimmy out of her own tee to reveal her bright pink bra.

“I need you,” he said, “I've needed you for a long time.”

“I'm right here,” she said, flinging her bra aside as he lay down beside her. Her sex, on edge all day, clenched hard as his feverish hands ran over her sleek curves. It was too much. She trapped his hand and tried to ease it into her panties.

He shifted position, slid his hand into her panties and landed his firm finger on her hard, wet clit. She gasped as he circled her, lifting her bliss as spasms of delicious pleasure pulsed through her nipples.

She released his manhood from his tight boxers and rubbed him as he drove her pleasure against her peak.

“I had to belt you,” he breathed.

“I had to bend over your bed and take it,” she gasped.

He shucked his shorts and rose over her. His hardness filled her sex. Gripping him, intense pleasure swamped her as he thrust deep inside her, forcing her onto her precipice.

“I have to display my belted legs,” she panted, holding him tight inside her.

“It will do you good,” he groaned.

He detonated deep inside her sex. Her hips rammed against his as she came with a vengeance. Waves of hot, hard orgasms plunged through her. Consumed by pleasure, she held him close against her, never wanting to let him go.

He stood beside his girlfriend at the wheel as she guided Wind Dancer to safe harbor. The cockpit was doused in afternoon sunshine. He wrapped his arm around her. He had so much he wanted to share with her: the deal with Riccardo, the future of the company, and how it could keep Nicole close to her. But while it was still in progress, he must keep his counsel.

She corrected course slightly, keeping the bow pointed at the headland. In the distance, the buildings of Little Bay were dotted around the hills. Long before boys and men, she'd sailed these waters. Whatever rocky complications lay ahead, she'd sail through them beside her boyfriend.