A Life Discovered
Copyright© 2025/6 by Kevin Jay
Chapter 2: Sailing
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 2: Sailing - Rhys gets a bursary from a secretive organisation, which takes him to a foreign university and onto a course that will teach him magic. He doesn't know why, but on the way, he meets two special women, one with a mysterious background and the other a collared slave. Together, they start a new life and discover their destinies, and why so many people are interested in Rhys. Contains themes of polyamory, slavery, bondage, magic and, above all, how one plus one plus one can be more than three.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Slavery Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Fairy Tale BDSM DomSub MaleDom Light Bond Spanking Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Facial Oral Sex
Rhys awoke to a throbbing ache in his balls, his cock already rock-hard and buried deep in a wet, sucking heat. He blinked groggily and looked down - Jade lay face-down between his legs, her lips stretched wide around his thick shaft, bobbing her head with slow, deliberate strokes that sent jolts of pleasure ripping through him.
He’d heard his buddies brag about blowjobs in hushed locker-room whispers at school, trading bullshit stories about girls choking on their dicks, but Rhys? He had never even been close. His only action was jerking his meat on his own in his bedroom, pumping out loads to dreams of sexy women. Last night’s “cock cleaning” had felt like some weird hygiene ritual, not the full-on slave service it apparently was. Part of him wanted to shove her away, but fuck that. She’d started this uninvited, her choice, and wow, the slick suction and tongue flicks were melting his brain.
Jade felt him stirring, her eyes flicking up to meet him as he propped himself on his elbows for a front-row view. Their gazes locked like magnets, her training kicking in hard - eye contact was rule one for a good cocksucker. She grinned around his girth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked harder, then, with a wicked gleam, she rammed her face down until her nose mashed into his pubes, his cockhead sliding straight into her tight throat. Gagging - she was so out of practice at this - she swallowed around him, her oesophagus milking his shaft like a velvet fist, tongue lashing the underside. She eased back just enough to gasp air, strings of spit dangling from her lips, then dove back down, humming vibrations that made his balls tighten.
It hit him like a runaway horse - orgasm barreling up from his gut. “Jade! Fuck, I’m gonna - “ he gasped, but she didn’t flinch. She deepthroated through his eruption, his cock pulsing jet after jet of thick cum straight down her gullet. She froze for a beat, throat working overtime to gulp it all, then pulled off just enough to let the last spurts coat her tongue. Rhys watched, mesmerised, as she swirled around his twitching dick, licking every drop clean, all swallowed with a satisfied hum.
Finally, she popped off with a wet slurp, her lips shiny and swollen, beaming up at him like she’d won a lottery. “Mmm, master, your cum tastes so good - salty and thick, just how I love it. Did my throat-pussy make you cum hard?”
“Jade ... fuck, that was insane,” Rhys panted, still reeling, chest heaving. “That’s the first time that anyone’s ever swallowed my load. I could seriously get used to that. Best goddamn wake-up ever - shit, you’re a natural.”
Her smile widened wickedly. “I’m thrilled you loved it, master. But the city hall clock just chimed, and we’ve got a ship to catch. Release me so I can help you dress?”
“Release you? Shit, your hands are bound behind your back! Who did this?” Rhys’s anger flared.
“Silly master! I bound myself - for you. But I can’t undo it. You have to.”
Rhys bolted upright in bed, flipping her to check her lower back. A cross-shaped metal bar linked the silver cuffs on her wrists to those on her ankles. Dead centre: a keyhole.
“Key for this thing?” he grunted.
She nodded sideways, trying and failing to show him where the key was. “Inside me, master.”
“Inside you? Where?”
“In my pussy, master,” she purred, giggling. “Hunt it down.”
This woman baffled him, but time was ticking for the ship. He rolled her onto her back, her bound limbs pinned beneath her ass. Gripping her thighs, he spread them wide, diving toward her slick cunt. School sex ed and locker-room bullshit had given him some idea of what a woman’s pussy looked like, but this was his first up-close inspection.
Closer in, her musky arousal hit him like a drug. He pried her fat outer lips apart with his fingers, exposing her swollen clit jutting above the pink inner folds. Instinct kicked in - he thrust his tongue into her dripping hole and, jackpot, nudged cold metal just inside.
Time to toy with her. He dragged his tongue up her slit to that juicy clit. Her giggles abruptly changed into a guttural moan. He lashed her clit side-to-side, up-down, her breaths turning ragged, her hips struggling against the self-imposed bonds. She squeaked, bucking for more - then he yanked back, fished the metal ring with its tiny key from her sopping pussy, and dangled it triumphantly.
“Master! Please, nooo!” she wailed as he bolted to the bathroom, ignoring her pleas. Hot shower bliss rinsed him clean. Towelling off, key in hand, he returned. Jade writhed like a bitch in heat, grinding whatever part of her she could on the sheets for friction.
He loomed over her face, key glinting. “Craving that orgasm, my little slut-slave?”
“Yes, master! Fuck, please - yes!” she babbled desperately. To shut her up, he crushed his lips to hers - her mouth tingled, maybe flux, maybe pure erotic filth.
“Let’s finish this,” he growled, looming over her. Thumbs splayed her cunt wide open, he plunged his tongue deep into her vaginal tunnel, probing every slick inch. His nose grazed her clit, sending her wild. Shrieks, spasms. He edged her mercilessly: when her pussy clenched on the brink, he’d slow, blow cool air on her engorged nub, or pull away gasping. Jaw aching, he zeroed in, sucking and flicking her clit hard. Seconds later, she detonated - screaming, body rigid, cunt gushing as orgasm ripped through her bound frame.
He let her pant it out, muscles slackening. Flipping her over, he unlocked the cuffs. She arched, stretching luxuriously. A sharp slap stung her ass. “Clean your messy cunt in the bathroom. I’ll grab breakfast.”
Jade leapt up and darted into the bathroom while Rhys retrieved his crumpled clothes from the previous night and unhooked the brass key for his heavy trunk from his belt clip. He opened the trunk, located fresh underwear, clean trousers, and a crisp shirt, dressed swiftly, and moved to the door. Unlocking it, he poked his head into the corridor. A laden breakfast tray sat a short distance away. He stepped out, verified it bore his name - or rather, the Foundation’s official name - and carried it back into the bedroom.
He placed it on the small wooden table and poured two steaming cups of tea from the stout, insulated teapot. He noticed another folded piece of paper resting on the tray. It bore a hasty note in an untidy Seibjern script: “Sincere apologies, good Sir. Every time I approached your door, I seemed to walk into an invisible wall, so I left your breakfast as close as I could manage.”
The bathroom door creaked open, and Jade emerged, still entirely naked save for a damp towel tightly wrapped around her wet head. She hurried over to Rhys and knelt submissively before him, bare hands resting on her pale thighs, palms turned upwards, legs slightly spread, eyes cast down, mouth slightly open, and tongue poking out. Rhys remained uncertain whether she expected him to feed her or if she was offering another spontaneous blowjob.
He gently placed his warm fingers under her soft chin and carefully closed her mouth. “No,” he stated firmly, “we’re not maintaining this master-slave dynamic all the time. We’ll eat our morning breakfast together as absolute equals and then proceed to the docked ship together, too. We urgently need to discuss how we handle future matters between us. We’ll have ample time aboard the ship to do exactly that.”
She eyed him with a deep frown but gave a curt nod, stood up, and moved to sit beside him on the plush sofa.
Attempting to break the sudden, thick tension, he handed her the note from the breakfast tray and read it aloud, seamlessly translating it into Standard. “It appears our magical barrier functioned reasonably well, anyway!” he remarked light-heartedly.
Jade nodded solemnly. “Well done,” she replied with a tight, slightly forced smile. Rhys noted the distinct absence of the word “master” but filed the curious detail aside for later.
They drank strong tea and ate flaky pastries and fresh fruit together. The easy, comfortable atmosphere of the previous evening had entirely evaporated.
When they had finished their breakfast, they both rose. Jade selected her sensible clothes for the busy day ahead and took them into the bathroom, firmly shutting the door behind her. Rhys, already mostly dressed, pulled on thick socks and sturdy boots, then selected a heavy, waterproof jacket. The bathroom door opened, and Jade stepped out clad in a thick, shapeless jumper, dark trousers, and a pair of scuffed walking boots. She carried her polished silver collar and matching bands, walked to the bedside table to retrieve the silver cross that had earlier connected them, and dropped the metallic items into her open trunk. She closed the heavy lid and locked it securely.
“Shall we go?” she asked Rhys quietly.
Rhys felt slightly concerned at her sudden, frosty change in tone, but now was hardly the appropriate time to press the delicate matter - they had a ship to catch. He scoured the room for any forgotten items, retrieving a stray sock from beneath the bed and tossing it into his trunk. He locked it, and they headed down the stairs. They paused briefly at the reception desk, arranged to have their heavy luggage forwarded to their ship, and then stepped out into the damp morning air.
The previous day’s mostly dry weather had given way to a persistent grey drizzle and a biting, gusty wind. Rhys glanced at Jade, who had pulled her dark cloak tightly around her slender frame and was already marching down the cobbled street towards the busy docks. He jogged briefly to catch up with her, and they walked side-by-side, heads bowed against the bleak, damp cold, practically ignoring one another.
Fewer hardy pedestrians braved the miserable weather today, and Rhys felt far more comfortable navigating these historic streets. He had visited Roligvan a handful of previous times and had always found it a vibrant, welcoming place. However, following yesterday’s slightly claustrophobic experience, the grey streets appeared distinctly dull and perhaps a little menacing today. Perhaps it was simply because he wasn’t travelling with his mum this time. Perhaps it was just the harsh reality of growing up. Perhaps it was the tension between him and Jade.
Eventually, they came to the imposing dock gates and studied the daily list of coastal sailings pinned to a large, wooden noticeboard. Jade jabbed a gloved finger at one of the entries. “That one. The ship is named ‘Skotur’, and it is moored at the Brotfor Quay.” She swiftly consulted a faded map displayed beside the ship listings. “This way,” she announced, striding off.
Rhys dutifully followed. They wended their way through the dense, milling crowds and the heavy, wooden carts hauling assorted bulky goods and supplies, finally arriving at their designated ship.
The Skotur was a standard coastal packet ship, small for its class, certainly in comparison to the much larger ships berthed next to it. It boasted two tall masts flying the colourful Reiland flag. Rhys stepped confidently onto the wooden gangplank and made his way to the main ship deck, where a heavy, sturdy iron gate blocked access, guarded by a burly man. Rhys considered this highly unusual - most vessels stationed their security personnel on the quayside. He heard Jade’s quiet voice just behind him.
“This is a Reilander ship. It likely carries captive slaves on board, and the crew take all precautions to prevent them from escaping into Free Seibjerg. Security in these foreign ports is always stringent.” She had astutely guessed his exact thoughts.
“Rhys and Jade Niain, representing the Minshull Foundation,” Jade announced confidently over his shoulder, handing Rhys some papers which he promptly presented to the stern guard by the gate.
The paperwork was legitimate, the tickets having been bought from the ship’s agent in Roligvan, and the identity papers issued by the Seibjerg government. But the names on them were fake. Rhys understood why Jade, as a spy, might need more than one identity, but him? And why had they given his new identity the same surname as Jade?
The burly man accepted the papers, scrutinised them closely, and then eyed both Jade and Rhys. He handed the documents to Rhys, who, in turn, handed them back to Jade for safekeeping. The guard unlocked and opened the heavy gate with loud clangs and a good deal of effort, then beckoned them through. They boarded the creaking ship, and the man immediately slammed and locked the iron gate behind them.
“I am Stefan Nicholech, your chief steward. I shall attend to you on your upcoming journey to Chatamor. We anticipate the weather deteriorating further later, so we shall depart sooner than originally scheduled to clear the rocky Terava coast before darkness falls. Your private cabin is located down this way,” he stated, leading them briskly away.
“Cabin. Strictly singular,” Rhys thought with mild alarm. “They genuinely assume Jade and I are an item.” After this morning’s falling-out, he was certain they were not.
The assigned cabin was surprisingly pleasant, although, typically for a small sailing vessel, it was really cramped. It featured a set of narrow bunk beds, one above the other - which Rhys suspected would prove an interesting logistical challenge - a tiny washroom and lavatory, and a narrow wooden bench beside a small table, intended, Rhys assumed, for eating their meals. Jade shed her damp cloak, and Rhys his wet coat, hanging both heavy garments on brass hooks fixed to the back of the cabin door.
“Shall we explore?” Rhys suggested, and Jade gave a silent nod.
They opened the cabin door and entered the narrow, dimly lit corridor. It contained three identical doors on either side and a lone wooden chair situated at the far end. There appeared to be absolutely nobody else around. A steep flight of wooden stairs led upwards to the open air - the same route they had descended to find their assigned room - and another steep staircase led further downwards. Jade peered down the lower steps, spotting a secured door at the bottom marked “Crew Only”, so they climbed the other stairs back to the exposed upper deck. They strolled around, observing the frantic, yet coordinated activity on both the ship and the adjacent dockside as the ship’s crew worked with the stevedores to load the final cargo and urgently prepare to sail. However, the persistent drizzle had now intensified into a heavy, driving rain, and having left their waterproofs behind in the cabin, they hastily retreated below deck. It appeared they would spend the next three entire days cooped up inside that tiny, claustrophobic room, as there was absolutely nothing else to entertain them aboard the small ship.
Back in the small, dimly lit cabin, they slipped out of their wet clothes. Their heavy wooden trunks had not yet arrived, so they wrapped themselves in the woollen blankets from the narrow beds and sat side by side on the lower bunk, looking straight ahead. This was utterly absurd, thought Rhys. He turned to Jade at the precise moment she turned to him. Both said “Sorry” simultaneously, then hesitated and uttered “Don’t...” before stopping, staring at each other, before both burst out into sudden, breathless laughter.
“We need to sort out how to live together these next few days in this tiny cabin,” Rhys said. “And perhaps for longer than that if we stay together in Chatamor. I’m a simple country lad, and you fascinate and terrify me equally. You’re a sophisticated woman with more worldly experience than I’ll likely ever possess. For someone who looks roughly my age, I find that extraordinary but utterly baffling at the same time. Can we...”
He was interrupted by a sharp knock at the cabin door. Rhys got up, still wrapped in the scratchy blanket, and opened it. Outside stood a short woman, the top of her head barely level with Rhys’s broad breastbone, her dark hair cut short and untidily kept. She wore a drab, homespun tunic that came down to her mid-thigh and flat, worn shoes. She looked visibly frightened and stuttered in broken Standard, “Apologies, sir. Luggage. Late.”
Rhys sank onto his haunches so his head was below hers, hoping to put the anxious woman at ease by not looming over her, and said in fluent Reijik – he’d assumed she was part of the ship’s crew and spoke the native language of Reiland – “Can you understand me if I speak like this?”
She gave a small nod. “I’m deeply sorry, master,” she said in rapid Reijik, “your luggage has not yet arrived, and the ship’s captain says we must depart to keep ahead of the impending foul weather. Master Nicholech says he has arranged for your trunks to go on the next fast courier ship to Chatamor, so they should be waiting for you when we arrive.”
He could see she had a pretty, delicate, pixie-like face, but what stood out was the broad, slightly rusty, heavily dented steel collar she wore tightly around her slender neck, secured with a heavy iron padlock on the front. She was now shaking violently.
He could sense Jade coming to stand close behind him in the narrow doorway. “What’s your name?” he asked the terrified young woman.
“I don’t use a proper name on this particular ship, master,” she whispered. “You can just call me ‘cabin maid’.”
“No, I won’t call you that,” Rhys said in a gentle tone. “What did people call you when you were growing up?”
She looked nervously around, checking if anyone was lingering in the dark corridor. “Katarina, master,” she replied in a low, hushed voice.
“Right then, Katarina,” Rhys said warmly. “Thank you for telling me. No one can do anything about the missing luggage now, so we shall simply deal with the unfortunate situation as best we can.”
Katarina looked at him wide-eyed. “You’re not going to punish me physically, master?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“Why would I punish you when it’s clearly not your fault?” asked a bemused Rhys.
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