Your erotic stories

I looked on in horror at what had just happened. All my attempts to keep my true identity secret had been snatched from me in that one cold moment when Charles Wild, Skipper of the Golden Eagle, grabbed my shirt and it came away in his hands. His eyes focused on the bindings that held my breasts in place to give the impression I was a boy. I saw the lust in his eyes and realised I could no longer hide under the name of Jack Jones.

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Down. Down. The subsurface wave of turbulent water the ship created as it tumbled over pushed me down. Deeper and deeper. I flailed about helplessly against the huge powerful weight of it, not even knowing which way was up, and then after what seemed an eternity of struggling, I couldn't hold my breath any longer.

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