The conquest of Alison The Cruise Director

The Captain addressed the passengers yesterday to explain the risk transiting the Gulf of Aden. The Seabourn Pride was on a five-day cruise sailing from Muscat, Oman to Safaga, Egypt. The large map projection in the ship’s main theater displayed Yemen to the north and to the south, Somalia. He used a laser pointer to show a high-risk area, but he reassured all aboard that the high-risk area did not constitute a major risk. Not to make light of the situation, he concluded that cargo ships had been the primary target for pirates.

As the Cruise Director, Alison had to attend all the briefings to address any passenger concerns and questions. It was a simple plan maneuver the ship to avoid the pirate skiffs, increase speed, deploy a sonic weapon. Non-essential crew and passengers would shelter in place until the emergency passed.

Today, Alison awoke as she always did just before the rise of the sun. The sun was beaming just below the horizon, and there was a slight breeze from the ship underway. She loved to run her morning workout up on deck, in the sea air, when everything was covered in a light mist of dew. The heat wasn’t too bad, in fact, she liked it. Being on the Gulf was much more humid than one would think of the Middle East.

Her running was part of her cruise ritual before the majority of passengers awoke. The tall blonde wore a fitted white shirt with the ships logo over a sports bra and matching tight running shorts. She never ran with music, so she could greet the passengers and fellow crew and she never covered her bright blue eyes with sunglasses.

Some of the male passengers were aware of her ritual and would unfailingly appear at a window or walk out just as she approached.

Alison enjoyed this daily stroking of her ego. It was a constant affirmation of her sexual desirability, which she duly noted, and also filled her with a vague feeling of superiority. It was fun to tease them and let them indulge in a secret voyeur fantasy. She was, as always, naturally polite but thoroughly relished stirring up desire in these men and took some guilty pleasure in their mild anguish.

Alison quickly showered and dressed. She selected a silk gray jacket that showed off her cleavage without being too revealing. It had black buttons to match her high heels, the skirt short enough to be sexy but still professional, not overly revealing. She pulled on her black thigh high stocks and always wore a thong.

She never wanted a panty line and knew that eyes would always be leering. Men and even some women, hoping for a view to confirm if she was wearing nothing under her suits.

Alison had finished breakfast and arrived at her officer when…she couldn’t breathe. She was terrified. She didn’t know what was happening. There was a dull throbbing all over her torso and a ringing in her ears. The ship had listed to port and lost power. She immediately hid under her desk and closed her eyes. It was a futile instinctive gesture like when a child hides under the sheets for a fear of the night.

Her mind closed into a tight ball as she tightly closed her eyes. She wanted to cry but was gasping for air. She tried to dig her hands into the carpet in a desperate attempt to dig a hole through the deck. The adrenaline was coursing through her body but she was still frozen to the floor when the ship righted and power returned.

As if a switch had flicked, her eyes opened. Had she locked the door to her office? Not that it would have made any difference if the ship sank.

The door and entire front wall was glass that looked down the passage to the promenade deck. The side walls were solid, behind her was the steel hull with a large porthole that led to a drop overboard. It became dangerously annoying how crystal clear the glass front was. How could she hide in her office? She never covered the expansive windows with posters or flyers. Now, if she could she would have hidden under a post-it note.

Alison assumed they had been attacked but there wasn’t a warning over the ship’s PA system. There wasn’t anything other than the beating of her heart and the ringing in her ears. She would wait until the all clear was sounded… but the ship wasn’t maneuvering. It hadn’t accelerated. Were they boarded?

She wouldn’t move or breath until it was safe.

In her heightened state, she sensed the door open. It was as if she felt the wave of air disturbed by its motion. If it was possible to freeze anymore, she would have. Her desk didn’t go all the way to the floor but she prayed not to be seen. ‘Friend or not, please, don’t see me’…”Please!’

The terrifying silence seem to last forever but was broken with, “See you”.

It was an odd accent of broken English and not I see you…. ‘Please be a passenger” prayed Alison. ‘Please! It could be an English as a second language passenger.’

She was part of the crew. Once discovered, it was her duty to reveal herself. She had a responsibility to see to the passengers’ safety and comfort.

Alison moved in a trance-like state. She calmly stood up and straightened her jacket and skirt. Adjusting her appearance… to delay, to keep from looking up.

When she did… she could not speak… standing before her was a Somali.

She could tell immediately by the intense unyielding look. He was wearing an oil and salt water stained white T-shirt, his biceps were completely exposed, and wet gray pants, obviously without underwear. His distressed garb stuck to his barbaric form. If not for the situation, his tall dark physique might have been stunning. His appendage could tease many of the female passengers and shame the men.

He did not appear armed. Alison had seen photos of gun toting pirates with head wraps but he looked like a poor fisherman. There had to be armed men on board, thankfully, not here. Not yet…but for how long.

Perhaps they would loot the ship and leave. Coalition Naval forces patrolled the area constantly. Alison tried to convince herself, ‘Yes, they will loot the ship and leave. They are from the poorest nation on the planet and don’t want to hurt anyone.’

During training, all the crew had been instructed not to resist in a hostage situation. It would only make the situation worse. They had to survive and wait for rescue.

His eyes lingered and a slight smile formed on his hardened face, his dark eyes narrowing. Alison could almost feel them burning into her. She waited for him to look away and, when he didn’t, she finally broke eye contact by looking down. She could feel her face flush.

The pirate said, “Make me hard, you do me good, I do you.”

Despite her prim and proper behavior Alison had done favors before, just not on ship. She was quite proficient at giving hand jobs. In the past, that had saved her many times from having to go farther. This would be no different as he said ‘she does him good, he will do her… good….?’

She could try to resist, ‘it would only get worse’.

She had too. It was for her safety and the safety of the passengers to cooperate.

Alison slowly came from behind her desk and gracefully descended into a kneeling position, she raised her hands, tying her blonde hair into a quick sexy French bun. She had learned years ago that a bun was a great way to keep men from pulling her hair.

She opened her lips wide and let the black cock enter her mouth. The huge size of his head gave her some problems, but she tried her best, bobbing her head and running her tongue over it. She found herself bobbing deeper as his cock reached her throat and she began to swallow it. The head slid up and down her esophagus. Her eyes were squeezed shut and were tearing up as she fought to forget where she was.

Slowly, she got used to the large dark invader in her throat and mouth. She relaxed some and kept swallowing. Soon her nose pressed into his pubic hair and Alison was filled with pride as having swallowed it all. Alison began bobbing her head as rapidly as she could. She was filled with a sense of euphoria as she sucked the giant cock. Her throat drummed with each rhythmic beat of his pulse.

Her hands moved with their own thought. She savagely ripped open the front for her gray suit, black buttons flying across the room, releasing her aching breasts, exposing her black and silver silk slip. Alison thankfully discarded her constricting jacket without missing a stroke. She wanted to tease and tweak her nipples and increase the intensity of her arousal.

She opened her eyes and looked up, lovingly. Her eyes widened when she remembered who it was she was sucking. She didn’t love this man, she hated the Somali scum. He was looking down at her contemptuously with a smirk on his face.

‘Gross,’ she thought. ‘I’m sucking off a black man and one of my captors.’

‘He does have a nice body though.’ Difficult life had sculpted a hard-ebony body, flat abdominals and a ripped chest.

Her hand came up to knead his balls while she continued sucking and staring up his chest.

‘How long can I keep doing this?’ Alison thought. ‘I’m not stopping. I bet he has lots of hot cum for me and it is better in my mouth than elsewhere.’

After thirty minutes…. her jaw began to cramp, her neck became sore. Alison was worried as her pace slowed… other men, little white pricks, would last only a few minutes. But then she had never sucked a black cock before.

‘Stop play’ he interjected, unceremoniously hoisting Alison to her unstable feet. Keeling for so long she had lost feeling in her legs. The stress of the situation, the realization that she failed to get him off and the constant bobbing had her head spinning.

His swift hands quickly liberated Alison of all but her black stockings as she fell forward atop her desk. Any grace and poise quickly vanished as her almost lifeless legs spread open behind her.

She looked back over her shoulder as the stranger’s strong hands grabbed her hips. His fingers and palms were coarse with callouses. His cock head thrust forward inside her.

“Ow! Oh god! Too Big,” said Alison, scrunching her face to fight the pain.

Alison’s pussy clamped down over his black shaft and she came just as he said something in an unfamiliar language. He kept his cock buried in her pussy and Alison swore the head must have passed through her cervix and right into her womb.

‘Oh my God!’, thought Alison ‘I’m not on the pill!’ Not as if she could ask him to stop and put on a condom? She felt him push forward, again, and the pressure confirming he popped inside her fertile womb. ‘Shit…Fuck! He is huge!’ and she was filled with black cock.

He did this several times knowing he would bringing Alison to a new level.

Then he held still, but every now and then he’d flex, the movement sending a tremor through her body. He was teasing her. She had never had such intense vaginal intercourse like this before. ‘I could love this’, she thought.

Alison didn’t resist when he rolled her over. She felt a thrill of lust go through her body when she saw his beautiful black cock now covered with her juices. Soon he was rubbing the tip of his cock up her already swollen slit and pushing his shaft in deep. He cupped her legs under his arms and pounded her with the hard thrusts of his cock.

She reached down with her fingers and spread her pussy lips for the large black piston. Incoherently, she moaned. Alison lifted her crotch to greet his thrusting cock and soon felt him filling her womb with a load of sperm. She’d never felt anything remotely like this and her orgasm was huge.

He pulled his cock out of her filled pussy and shot a strand of sperm across her shaved blonde pubic hair. He squeezed a few more drops out on her belly.

Alison felt dirty knowing his load of seed was planted deep inside her belly. She knew his cock had shoved his dominate genes deep inside her. Not that she was a harbor whore, who regularly did it, but this was deeper than any unprotected sex she had before. If the insemination was successful, her recessive Caucasian Nordic traits would be gone forever from her lineage. But what could she do? She had to cooperate.

He dismissively dressed…. Gathered the tattered remnants of Alison’s clothing and left her locked in her glass prison.

_______________________

Later that evening… Alison quickly wrapped her body in the bathrobe the guards brought. Earlier she had used her stockings to wipe the crusted cum from her body but was now barefoot.

She was thankful to have any covering since she had been displayed nude since this morning. The armed guards said nothing but motioned her to walk between them. They were not forceful but the underling threat violence was implied and understood.

The constant exposure to the restored air-conditioning had an obvious effect and her nipples appeared uninterested in going down. She didn’t like the way they poked out. Never had. Walking through the corridors of the ship, Alison didn’t want any of the passengers or her fellow crew to think she was stimulated. Yet, the terry cloth hugged each nipple and her areola were visible. Plus, she still smelled of sex.

Alison was led to one of the staterooms with a private jacuzzi. She had done her best to freshen up and hoped to have a bath after this morning’s events.

She saw two black men already in the room. One nude in the jacuzzi and second setting up equipment. She stared at the camera and light set. She’d didn’t like the idea of the camera, again, what could she do?

Alison dropped the robe and slowly stepped into the jacuzzi, as far from the black man as she could, without being obvious. Luckily, the way he was seated her back was to the camera. Alison sighed as she sank into the hot water and powerful jets of water began cleansing her nude body. She then stood in the center of the hot tub, like Venus de milo, her near perfect body almost devoid of any imperfection.

Her two armed escorts and the cameraman stared hungrily at her bare white ass.

She knew what she was there to do, willingly.

Alison looked down as two beefy black hands came up to cover her breasts. The contrast between his dark black hands and her snow cap breasts was amazing. He squeezed them tightly, then kneaded her fleshy globes. She watched as her hard nipples appeared between his fingers before he started pinching them. The contact with her pink nipples sent more spasms of arousal down to her pussy.

He released her breasts, wrapped one arm around the small for her back and started running his cock across her wet slit in a wide to wide motion. Alison felt a tremendous shudder run through her body. He jammed himself up inside her with no warning. She was still tender from this morning. Luckily, she was lubricated from the water and his large dark woody forcibly snaked up into her pussy.

Alison didn’t even think a third of his semi-erect cock was inside her when she came. She’d taken about half his shaft when she quit cumming, but a second orgasm came quickly on the heels of the first. A third orgasm followed that one as the head forced it’s way even deeper. The last orgasm was so big, Alison nearly passed out.

When she recovered, her pussy felt completely stuffed with still growing black cock. He was slowly withdrawing his shaft and pushing it back in. His balls were slapping her thighs and she knew his rock hard massive cock was fully submerged her pussy. She had taken the entire thing.

Alison, sat straddling his lap, keeping his black cock buried inside her pussy. She slowly started to ride. There was a moments pain past a certain point and Alison startling realized, a second black cock was past her cervix and entered in her womb. That briefly jolted her back to reality, she was a captive… being filmed… do good… ‘it felt so good’

Alison’s primal desire took over as she began bouncing in his lap while he played with her shapely tits. He forced her to suck almost her entire breast in her own mouth as he flicked his tongue rapidly over her other erect nipple. The rough treatment was driving her wild. She had never been manhandled like this before.

Alison picked up speed, then she pushed up until just the head was in her and cum as she slowly sank down his shaft. The orgasm was so big, her legs gave out and she slammed down hard on his cock.

Alison tried to willing herself to remain quiet and absorb what was happening. Her staying quiet was difficult, but enjoying this wasn’t hard at all. She was so lightheaded, so far past her earlier revulsion, so far past reservations and well past the edge of longing. She wanted… willed her tormentor to fuck her.

“I love your co…” Alison started thrashing. “I love it. I love you. I love you,” she cried, as jet after jet of hot seed shot into her contracting womb. She willingly encouraged him. She remembered her earlier ejaculation orgasm and wontenly craved her second.

Alison needed to feel the deep volcanic eruption. His hot cum flooding her pussy like lava. The seed cooling slowly, matching her own body temperature. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her heaving chest. He moved his hands up to her back and he buried his face in her breasts. Holding her tightly, almost lovingly, as they both came down from their simultaneous orgasms. What else could she do?

Alison knew black sperm had been swimming around in her cunt for hours and well aware nothing was going to prevent her from conceiving a black baby. It was a matter of time. She, like the rest of women on board, would inevitability be impregnated.

Alison sat frozen, still loving the twitching black cock that was buried in her, but she was filled with a hint of self-doubt. She’d just told this terrorist, she loved him. Why was she having feelings for a guy that raped her? It was under duress, yes, but she performed willingly. There was no evidence to the contrary.

She had no choice. The sex had been fantastic. She certainly discovered the taboo submissive interracial personality that had remained dormant for so long.

Soon the whole world would see her discovery, too.

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