Let's find some people, shall we?

Happily, a railing juts just a few feet away, protecting you and the other passengers from a drop into the water below. Since the ship hasn't left port yet, you would be dropping equally onto concrete and milling people, but falling isn't really what you have in mind.

... The milling people, however, are a different story.

'Come with me, slut,' grabbing Jennifer by the hand, you see no reason to beat around the bush and pretend you have any respect for her. You pull her to the railing, watching her as she watches the crowd below, her face instantly paling; it would be quite a hit to her reputation to be found aboard this boat, after all. Especially wearing a collar...

'Go on, lean over it,' you say, and Jennifer squeals as you spank her ass, the sound drawing attention from the people below. 'Take off your top and dangle your tits over the side, give them a show...'

'But that's not in my contract!' Wide-eyed and furious, Jen rounds on you, seemingly under some illusion that she has a case here. 'I was assured privacy if I have to do this- gah!'

She subsides, shuddering as you look up from your wristband, having just performed your first test of its **** correction function. An electric shock freezes the beautiful blonde in place for a moment, and when she finally relaxes, she's faced with your stern, threatening face.

'I wasn't asking, slut. I didn't pay as much money as I did to make suggestions to you,' you growl. 'Now, you can either get your tits out and give the dock a show, or I can shock you into paralysis and get them out for you. Either way, you're bending over that fucking railing and proving to these people that while you're aboard here, you're nothing more than a common whore...'

Jennifer blanches at your words, and her shock and shame are as delicious to you as the taste of her mouth. She scowls at you as she reaches behind her and undoes her bikini top, letting it fall to the deck. Her breasts are firm and round, brown nipples standing erect in the breezy sea air. She goes to cover them, but you raise your wristband and move to tap in a command, causing her to drop her hands by her side.

'Now, bend over the rail, Jennifer,' you point, sternly. 'Quicker you do it, the faster it'll all be over.'

Her answering sigh is both aggressive and despairing, an interesting combination to say the least. The overt resistance she shows is refreshing, and you make it a point to break Jen as thoroughly as you can during your time together; you wonder if, perhaps, there was a way to reserve a **** for continuous use, rather than letting her go to service other passengers too.

Given enough time, you're sure you could make her afraid to say a single word out of place in your presence.

Nevertheless, she bends at the waist over the railing, leaning heavily on the burnished wood and hanging her generous chest over the side, nipples immediately assaulted by an inrush of salt air. Instantly, there is a wolf whistle from over the side, followed by a catcall that's both too detailed and too lurid to be the product of any old passerby.

... You suppose there must be some Starliner workers or passengers down on the dock too.

From the other side of her mass of blonde hair, whipping in the wind, you hear Jennifer sob, her lower half squirming in an altogether fetching way. Her ass, the only part of her still covered, wiggled in all its black-clad glory, practically asking you to do something to it.

Frankly, this **** should be naked, anyway...