The Pirate's Wife

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Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1995-2009 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
*** AUTHOR'S NOTE ***

This novella was started several years ago after I first read Anne Rice's stunning Beauty series. You will find many parts of this story similar, perhaps too similar in some cases, but I did not feel the urge to completely rewrite the older sections. Hopefully this story has enough new material to stand on its own.

For those of you who do not like long works, I guess this is not for you. But this story is basically all action--it bears little resemblance to my other novella, Justice, which was much more of a character study. If you want a simple spanking story without all the kidnapping themes, read Chapter 6.

While I am posting this in sections, I am going to use a generic header--it is too much trouble to change it for each little part of the story. Suffice it to say that just about every forbidden theme is expressed here. Read with caution.

Finally, I just want to thank the readers of alt.sex.spanking for your wonderful encouragement and support. This story marks a milestone in my a.s.s. writing, for this pushes me over the 500,000 word mark. Yes, it is true. I cannot believe it myself. But my web site now contains every single one of my posted stories totaling over half a million words! Not bad for an unpublished author.

This makes me wonder how much longer I can continue. I cannot but think I have exhausted the topic to death. But I still have a number of stories in progress, and a few sequels to write, so I guess I will write and post these stories as long as I feel the need to do so. Thanks again for all your many notes and comments. I appreciate them deeply-- you do not know what a comfort it is to write down something deeply personal and utterly perverted and discover that many others think exactly like you!

But enough rambling. Here's the novella, The Pirate's Wife. If you enjoy it, please let me know. If you miss part of it, the entire text is available on my web site.

Oh, if you were wondering, this story is about 27,000 words long. It's divided into 15 chapters of various lengths.

Frank
The "Flogmaster"
***

T H E P I R A T E ' S W I F E

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)


Sarah Ann Leebury

A Novella by
THE FLOGMASTER

Table of Contents

Prologue
1: The Voyage & the Storm
2: The Aftermath of the Storm
3: The Attack
4: The Red Devil
5: My Education Begins
6: Discipline at Breakfast
7: Kitchen Duties
8: The Captain's Quarters
9: Games In the Evening
10: Lessons From the Red Devil
11: The Pirates Attack A Vessel
12: The Captain's Punishment
13: The Captain's Proposal
14: Restitution
15: Epilogue

Prologue

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

May 1766

My name is Sarah Ann Leebury. My father was Lord Leebury and a friend of the King. I am writing this manuscript to inform others of the events leading to my present situation. That is, how I became a pirate's wife and an enemy of the King.

I do not expect anyone to read this while I am still alive--this manuscript will be a testimony to my life after I am gone. Therefore I have been extremely open regarding my private emotions and inmost feelings. Everything written in this document is true. However, if it is discovered and revealed while I am alive, I shall deny everything and say that it is mostly fiction, that I was forced to cooperate with the pirates and was in no way a willing participant in their actions.

--Sarah Ann

Chapter 1
The Voyage & the Storm

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

We sailed from London on September 3, 1759. It was a cold and wet day, and I was miserable. My father had insisted I travel with him on this voyage to the West Indies. It was to last for months and I just knew I would die if I couldn't see William for such an extended length of time.

That was my father's plan, of course. William was a scoundrel, according to him. He hated William and his family, and had upon numerous occasions forbidden me to see him. He was beneath us, he used to say. Perhaps that was why I enjoyed William's company. I don't know. But I couldn't keep away.

There was talk of sending me to a convent for a few years, but my mother was reluctant. She had been sent to a convent as a child and she had horrible experiences. The discipline had been frightfully strict and somehow she had always managed to find the wrong end of the rod. She begged my father to take me with him on his next voyage instead, arguing that months away from William would do me good and the exposure to the world would educate me. Finally he agreed.

The first few weeks I spent mostly alone in my cabin. I had a few books which I read and reread, but soon I became bored. For a while I amused myself daydreaming.

I'd imagine William riding a ship after us to save me. There would be a tremendous battle and which he would win, and then he would threaten to kill my father unless I was released to him, and my father would finally consent to our marriage. I made up wild fantasies involving William and events of a sexual nature. I was chaste, of course, though once when he kissed me my hand pressed against his leg and I felt the bulge of his crotch. It had inflamed me, sending waves of terrible sensations through my body, especially between my legs. I grew wet there, and it took me a long time to get to sleep that night.

I often found myself touching my "secret place" during these fantasies. It was always in terrible fear that I would get caught, so it was hastily and inexpertly done. I was never satisfied and I longed for William's gentle caress against my cheek and sweet lips against mine.

One night after a particularly trying day--nothing I did seemed to satisfy my intense craving--I awoke from a fitful sleep of troubled dreams. The ship was rocking horribly, and I could hear the wind and the sea battering the walls of my tiny cabin.

I remembered father had told me at supper to prepare for a fierce storm. He had recommended I eat lightly, as the sea would be rough. In defiance I had eaten more than my fill, and now I regretted my rebelliousness. My stomach heaved and suddenly I hastened from the bed and managed to position myself on my hands and knees over my washbasin.

I left the remains of my dinner there and retreated. The smell was horrible and the ship had not ceased its violent rocking. In a fury I left my cabin to tell my father I would not tolerate such treatment--he had better order the captain to control the ship.

Up on deck was a maze of activity. The wind and rain and waves all blended together and through the darkness I vaguely saw men climbing and running every direction, shouting and cursing. I was shocked to hear the men speak like this, but in truth I could barely hear as the fierce wind stole their words away. Everyone ignored me as I struggled up the stairwell. I could not see my father anywhere. I decided he must be with the captain.

Suddenly there was a tremendous blast of thunder that seemed to shake the very universe almost immediately followed by a blinding bolt of lightening that lit up the scene clearly.

I saw men in the rigging most clearly and was shocked when the ship suddenly tilted almost horizontal and several of the men lost their grip and were flung into the raging ocean. But far worse was the main mast itself. The lightening had apparently struck the ship and the mast was burning!

There were screams of terror and fear everywhere as men ran to extinguish the flames. The ship lurched again in a vicious twist and suddenly I felt myself falling. The last thing I remember was wondering how the giant wooden ship, well-built as it was, could take such tremendous beating from the wind and waves.

Chapter 2
The Aftermath of the Storm

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

I awoke to a shocking cold and wetness. I found my clothing soaked and as I tried to sit up I discovered my head was throbbing and spinning. It took me a few moments to understand where I was.

I was on deck, apparently. It was day, a beautiful blue sky with scarcely any clouds was above us and the sea was calm as far as the eye could see. I struggled to my feet glaring at the stupid sailor still holding the incriminating bucket.

"How dare you!" I shouted at him. "I am in need of medical assistance, you lout! Not seawater in the face!" He laughed and said something to his companions, I have no idea what--I can barely understand these ignorant brutes when I am clearheaded.

I turned angrily and saw the captain on the foredeck. "Sir," I pleaded. "Have this man whipped for his disrespect and get me the ship's doctor."

The captain looked at me and his look was grave and not very welcoming. He glanced at the sailor. "Take her below to her quarters, mate. Lock her in and stand guard by the door. I'll speak with her shortly."

Before I could scream the ugly sailor had picked me up and thrown me over his shoulder as though I were nothing but a rag doll. I beat on his back and screamed but he seemed impervious to my feeble attacks. He threw me on my bed. "Yew jus' be a good girl, there lass, and obay Captain Newman."

I screamed at him and leapt up to tried to scratch his face. Without seeming effort he slapped me down. I fell across the bed, my cheek stinging, stunned, and he left, locking the door behind him.

The slap had calmed me a little, but I was growing furious at this treatment of me. Where was my father? He would have all these men flogged, including that incompetent captain!

Just as I thought this the door opened and Captain Newman entered. I relaxed and tried to calm myself. For the first time since the storm I saw the captain up close and I was astonished to see how old he looked. He looked ancient, tired and beaten and waiting to die.

"I am sorry for what has happened, my dear. But God controls the oceans, not Man."

"You are speaking of the storm, captain? The storm is not the problem! Your man out there treated me like a common serving girl! Your servant _slapped_ me. He struck me, he did! I am the daughter of a Lord, Captain, and I expect to be treated like one! Now, where is the doctor?"

The captain's face grew dark. "He struck you? I shall flog him myself for that!" I felt pleased at that and smiled.

"The doctor?" I asked again.

The captain looked at me for a long while without saying anything. Impatience railed at me to speak but something in his eyes held me back. I waited.

His voice was slow and controlled, without emotion. I felt the truth of his words but I didn't want to believe what he was saying.

"The doctor, I'm afraid, is gone. Along with more than half my crew. That storm almost sunk us, girl, and the men are in no mood for your hysterics. You do not realize the gravity of the situation. We had to dump the cargo to lighten the ship. The storm contaminated most of our water and food supplies. There is very little chance that we will make it back to shore alive."

I stared at him in disbelief. Could this really be true? Was I really about to die? When I spoke my voice was unsteady. "And my father, captain? Where is my father?"

His face was sad, so sad, and that told me everything before he even spoke. "He's with the Lord, girl. Washed overboard like dozens of others. There was no chance to save him."

The captain waited a moment and opened the door to go. Outside I saw the cruel sailor waiting and suddenly something softened in me. "Captain?" I said hesitantly and he stopped, waiting.

"Never mind about his flogging, sir. It doesn't matter." The captain looked surprised but pleased and nodded. He left me and I laid myself on the bed, my clothing still wet, and cried. A long time later I heard a knock and the sailor entered and placed a plate of food and a cup of wine on the far table. It was dried pork and I only felt revulsion. "Take it away," I whispered. "Leave me the wine. I am thirsty, but not hungry."

"Are yew sure, m'lady? Yew'd better get while the gettin's good. There's not much where this came from. Yew got the best of the lot, if I do say so."

I shook my head and asked him to leave. He hesitated but nodded and took the food. At the door he stopped. "I'm sorry I struck, yew, m'lady. It was wrong." He paused. "Thanks for, uh, speaking with the captain." Embarrassed with this grand fount of emotion he left hastily. I cried even more after he left, dejected that I would die here on this Godforsaken boat with no one but ignorant brutes like him on board.

Chapter 3
The Attack

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

The next few days were miserable. I noticed a change in the crew. They were silent and sullen, and occasionally I heard violent fighting and angry words.

I stayed in my cabin most of the time. I drank very little and ate even less. My thoughts were of William and I wondered if I should ever see him again.

It was late on the third day after the storm when I heard shouting. The significance of this shouting was that it was hopeful. I, and everyone else on board, I believe, rushed to the deck to see what was happening.

The lookout was on the secondary mast, the main mast having been cut down during the storm to save the ship from the fire. He was shouting and pointing in the direction of the sun. We shielded our eyes but we could see the silhouette of ship. It was heading out direction! We were saved!

The sailors became jolly again, and were dancing and shouting and suddenly there was wine and everyone was drinking. The captain tried to regain order but it was useless. The men were too excited and relieved to pay attention, so he let them have their way. I found myself dancing with several of the men and after my long confinement and despair it was a relief to feel anything, and I laughed and danced with the drunken sailors. My father would have been shocked and my mother would have become a social exile if either had seen my brazen behavior.

We watched and danced as the ship came closer and closer. It was still difficult to see it against the sunlight, but it was a fairly large ship. Not as big as ours, but surely large enough to carry us to safety. Even the captain was seen smiling in his sad way.

Suddenly the lookout cried out in terror and began screaming. The captain began to shout orders and the men stopped dancing and began to panic. I saw one man jump overboard and several on their knees praying. Others were bringing out guns and sabers and passing them around.

I was confused. "What is happening?" I shouted, but no one heard me in the chaos. "What is going on?" Then I heard a shout that echoed clear and bright and sent terror through my bones.

"Pirates!" came the cry and then men were running frantically, desperately. I saw one man standing near the far side, watching the approaching boat and noticed in horror wetness dripping down his legs into a pool at his feet. His face was a grim mask of fear and he looked incapable of moving.

Pirates! The term struck a chord of excitement in me, followed by sheer terror. I had heard stories of pirates. They were ruthless. They always fought to the death and gave no quarter. They took only women and children as prisoners and sold them as slaves to foreign countries or returned them to their families for outrageous ransoms. There were also rumors of a sexual nature, that the pirates would rape and abuse the prisoners before selling them as slaves. This terrified me, but at the same time I felt a wetness between my legs and the thought came unbidden to my head: what would it be like to be ravished by a band of pirates?

The pirate ship was very close now. I could see the hordes of fierce-looking men on the edges of the ship, ready to leap aboard. A black pirate flag fluttered on the mast and I could see a man in the forecastle holding a rifle. There was a shot and one of our sailors fell to the deck, a widening pool of blood forming beneath him.

Suddenly someone grabbed me and carried me down the stairs. I saw it was my guardian, and I screamed at him to let me go. He pushed me into my cabin and locked the door behind me. In despair I threw myself on the bed and hid under all the blankets and prayed like I had never prayed before. I apologized to God for all my evil thoughts and sins, and vowed to ever be faithful if He would save me now. I vowed I'd become a missionary and go teach the Bible to heathens in foreign countries if He'd save me.

Throughout my prayers I heard the distance sounds of battle. I heard cannon blasts and gunshots and many shouts and cries of pain. Gradually the din calmed and soon it was almost quiet. I lay in silent suffering and dread when I heard voices outside my door. There was shouting and the terrible clash of swords. I could hear feet pounding and struggling and then it was quiet. The door to my cabin was opened. The covers were pulled back and suddenly there he was, my first pirate.

He was a large bearded man, filthy and smelling of beer like most of the sailors I had met. But in a few ways he was different. He handled his sword with great strength and skill, and his body was marked with scars of many battles. Even his face had a large ugly scar across his right cheek.

He laughed a chilling laugh when he saw me and pulled me out of bed and dragged me out of the cabin. Out in the hallway there were dead and bloody bodies, and near the door I saw something that made my heart almost break: the body of the young man who had been appointed my guardian. His face was quiet and at peace now, but his body was bleeding from countless wounds. He had put up a terrible struggle, but he had died protecting the door to my cabin. I cried bitter tears as I was dragged to the upper deck.

I was in a daze and I do not remember much. Somehow I must have been transferred to the pirate ship because the next thing I remember was watching the "Lady Agatha," the largest ship of my father's fleet, go down in flames. Soon it was dark and I was alone on a pirate ship.

Chapter 4
The Red Devil

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

I must have slept. It was dark and I vaguely saw a large man standing before me. He was wearing a beautiful red cape with black trousers and vest. A thin rapier hung free at his side, and I could see a pistol and a several daggers on his belt.

His face was narrow and thin, his red hair heavy around his head and face, his beard a well-trimmed goatee and a bushy mustache. His eyes gleamed at me and he smiled triumphantly as I awoke. He was quiet handsome I thought, with some hope to my fate. Could a handsome man be cruel?

I was trussed at the foot of the mast, ropes binding my arms behind me. I was surrounded by men. Tall men, short men, fat men, skinny men. Men of various colors and styles. Men with missing limbs or patches over their eyes. Men of various ages, some quite young, almost children, and others much older, graying and losing their hair.

I had never seen so many different men. It frightened and yet thrilled me. Back in England almost all the men I knew were alike: rich barons and lords with fancy clothes and snuffboxes and abominable habits, or young playboys like William, eventually to inherit the family fortune and title. These men were vastly different from them, and yet all different amongst themselves. It was a heady mix, and I found myself alternately feeling aroused, sickened, or terrified.

The man in red approached me. "My lady," he began in perfect King's English. "Let me present myself. I am called the Red Devil." Cheers went up from the men around him when he said this and he smiled and waited for them to subside.

"You are obviously a lady of breeding. What is your name and title?" I pondered keeping my identity a secret, but finally decided I would better be served by telling the truth. Perhaps I could hope for a ransoming.

"My name is Lady Sarah Leebury, daughter of Lord Leebury." I had wanted my voice to ring out true and defiant, but instead, weakened and dried out from lack of sufficient liquid and from such a long time without speaking, my voice cracked and sounded faint and harsh. The men laughed.

The Red Devil calmed them and smiled at me again. "And how old are you, my lady?"

"In December I shall be seventeen," I said proudly, regaining some control over my vocal cords. The crowd whistled and jeered at this news, and there were many off-color remarks I shall spare this narrative. Suffice it to say that their grotesque suggestions shocked me and reddened my cheeks, generating even more laughter.

The Red Devil smiled at me gallantly. "I think the lady is a virgin, gentlemen! Can we believe it? What a fortune the empty 'Lady Agatha' has given us!" The men laughed at this.

"But perhaps you do not tell the truth, _Lady_ Sarah. There have been people attempting to fool us, dressing up in women's robes and putting on an effeminate nature so as to deceive us. Always do they tell us they are royalty so as to hope we would not defile them but ransom them instead. We need proof that you are who you say, my lady. Do you mind showing us your proof?"

"My proof? What proof are you talking about? You have my word as a Lady that I am who I say I am!"

The Red Devil laughed uproariously at this. "You do not realize how foolish your words are, my lady. We need better proof than your words. We need proof we can see. Show us you are a Lady!" he shouted and flung his arms in the air.

One of the men promptly came towards me and cut the ropes binding my arms. I slowly stood up and rubbed my wrists and tried to orient myself. The Red Devil and the other pirates stood watching me expectantly. I had no idea what they were expecting so I stood silent and haughtily watched them back.

"Are you defying me, young lady?" the Red Devil said quietly with a dreadful threat beneath his words. I felt my legs tremble in terror and I willed them to be still.

"No, sir," I whispered. "I have no proof but my word, sir. If that be not enough than you will just have to kill me."

"Kill you?" He laughed again. "Kill you? You think we want to kill you? Our first virgin in over a year and you think we want to kill you? That is the last thing we want to do--that is, if you really are a Lady."

I regained some of my composure and stared at him directly. "I am a Lady."

"Than show me," he whispered, drawing dangerously close to me and touching my sleeve. "Show us you are a lady. Take off your clothes, you wretched whore!" With that he slapped my face with the back of his hand.

It was a hard blow and it caught me by surprise. I almost fell over. I stared at him in horror, tears filling my eyes. Was he insane? Undress, here, on the deck of his ship with a hundred men watching?

Even as I thought it I felt something in me change. My crotch was damp again, and I felt a sexual hunger at the thought of undressing before all these men. Would I really have the nerve?

But the Red Devil was looking at me in a fury and I hastened to obey. I had no idea what they would do to me if I disobeyed, but for now, I decided to cooperate.

It took me time to disrobe and I could sense the frustrations of the men watching. Several shouted at me to make haste as I struggled with all the expensive buttons and silk undergarments. As I removed my undergarments exposing my breasts I blushed hearing the comments and whistles from the men. I was pleased they seemed pleased, but I noticed from the corner of my eye that the Red Devil was especially interested and for some reason that pleased me the most.

Soon I was utterly naked. Men took away my garments and I stood alone, in the center, my arms and hands vainly attempting to cover myself. Now I had never given a great deal of thought about my physical appearance, but from the comments of the men I decided I must be very beautiful.

My breasts are quite plump. Not huge like Tilly's, my handmaid's, but medium-sized. I have always been thin, but not skinny. My mother once told me I had the figure of an hourglass. At the time I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

But the pirates were vocal in their appreciation. At first they fell silent when I was completely nude and I thought there must be something wrong with me. But it seemed they were just startled by how beautiful I was.

Soon they were making catcalls and rude comments. One man said he could "drink from those jugs all day long" and though I had never heard the term I knew he was speaking of my breasts. Others made crude references to my large buttocks, my virgin sex, my legs, and even my mouth and face.

Throughout this time I stood struggling to cover myself, my mind whirling with all I heard. I was torn between revulsion and humiliation and yet aroused by all the compliments and appreciation. A woman always likes her body to be appreciated.

The Red Devil was speaking to his man again, a large muscular man without a shirt. He leapt into the rigging much more nimbly than I would have thought for such big man. Above my head he threaded a rope through a pulley on one of the cross beams and let the rope drop down near me. In a moment he was there.

He took my hands and tied my wrists together with a piece of leather. Then he fastened the hanging rope to the leather with quick, efficient sailor knots. Suddenly he pulled on the other end of the rope and my arms shot upward over my head and I was pulled off my feet. I screamed and struggled but I was held tight.

He let me down until my toes were just barely touching the deck and then he fastened the rope to the mast. I hung there, completely naked, my arms above head, my entire body exposed to all the brutes on the boat.

If I kicked my feet I would swing about, but if I was still I could hold myself in position with the tips of my toes. I also found I had a horrible tendency to spin, slowly rotating around so that everyone could get to see every part of me.

The night was cool, not cold, but the light breeze made me feel so exposed and vulnerable and ashamed I began to cry, my tears dripping down my chest. The noise of the excited men was deafening as they shouted and jeered and leered at me. Finally the captain interceded.

"Well, Lady Leebury, you certainly are _not_ a man! You are indeed a lady. However, I think you are a most rebellious lady. You need chastisement to cool down that temper of yours. You are most disobedient and naughty. My friends and I, however, will undertake your education."

Heavy dread filled me as I swung there. So there was to be no ransom for me. My pure body was to be ravished by these vile men. I was at their mercy, and they looked like they had no idea what the word meant.

Chapter 5
My Education Begins

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

The Red Devil gave more orders and the large man silently obeyed. More ropes were produced. He came over to me and quickly tied a rope to each of my ankles. Then he adjusted the rope above my head to lower me. As he did so two others pulled my legs apart. When my legs were stretched quiet wide the ropes were tied to fittings on the deck. I was now hanging, my open crotch only two feet from the deck. My face was even with the Red Devil's chest.

I was completely helpless and that terrified me. I frantically wriggled and tried to free myself, tried to touch the deck with my feet, but I could do nothing. I stopped struggling hastily when I realized with shame the pirates were enjoying the sight of my writhing body. I wanted to give them as little pleasure as I could.

Now the Red Devil--how aptly he was named--approached me. I could see his smile and already I knew him well enough to understand that what made him smile did not always bode well for me.

He grasped my left breast with his right hand and squeezed it hard. Then he kissed me. It was a very rough kiss, and he used his left hand behind my head to hold me steady. I tried to bite him, or spit, but he pushed his lips so tightly against mine that there was nothing I could do. After struggling a bit I finally gave in and kissed him back.

His kiss was nothing like William's. William was always soft and gentle. The Red Devil was rough and rude, but very passionate. His beard felt strange against my face, but I liked the smell of it.

Towards the end of the kiss he did the most shocking thing: he pushed his tongue into my mouth! I was dumbfounded, but his hand still held my head and there was no way for me to back out. Shivers of pleasure and emotion ran down my spine when our tongues touched in such an intimate manner.

Meanwhile, his right hand continued to grind away at my left breast, pinching the nipple painfully, which intensified my pleasure. I could feel my sex dripping and I knew with shame that the deck beneath me must have droplets of moisture for all to see.

Suddenly he pulled back. I hung there, panting, bewildered. Then he slapped my left breast. At first I thought it just hurt and I screamed, mostly in fear and shock. But after the first sting had faded I discovered a remarkable sensation. My breast was tingling and alive, the nipple hard, and my sex grew even more wet. His slap had aroused me!

My confusion grew as he now worked on the right breast, squeezing and pinching and finally slapping it. I thought I would explode with pent-up energy and tension. My nipples hurt they were so hard.

But suddenly I felt his hand touch my sex. I screamed and pleaded with him to leave me alone but he only continued to touch me. His fingers touched my secret place and I thought I'd die of embarrassment. It was intolerable for me to be subjected to the throes of passion in public like this. I writhed and pulled against my bonds but only succeeded in chaffing my wrists and ankles.

Now he had moved behind me. He touched my buttocks, playing lightly with the flesh. He slapped my bottom lightly, then harder, and finally spanked me very hard several times. Tears came to my eyes as I struggled to remain composed. But then, shame of all shames, he proceeded to examine my anus!

He touched it with his finger, tracing the hole lightly with his finger. Then he pushed his finger partway into the hole and I froze, terrified. Was he going to kill me? Was this some new form of death by torture?

His finger went in farther and it hurt. I writhed in pain but he only slapped my buttocks with his free hand until I quieted down. He removed his finger and approached me from the front. Smiling that evil smile he gripped my jaw and forced my mouth open.

"Lady Sarah, daughter of Lord Leebury, would you so kindly lick my finger clean?"

I screamed at him and tried to bite his finger but he was too quick. He only laughed and gestured to his men. "Well, men, it seems she needs to learn obedience and manners. She doesn't know how to behave around a ship captain."

The large man now approached me from the side. He was holding something but he moved behind me before I could see what was in his hands. "Shall I, Captain?" he said and the Red Devil nodded.

I heard a loud crack and felt a chilling pain across my buttocks. It stung much worse than the spanking from the Captain. Again and again it struck, and I was writhing and crying and desperately trying to get away from the leather strap. But it was no use. The blows continued. I soon ceased struggling as it only exhausted me. I simply hung there and received the lashes across my backside.

The large man (who I learned later was the first mate), was standing to one side and he would swing his strap horizontally across both buttcheeks. The pain was tremendous and at first it was all I could understand. I had never been whipped before, and the pain numbed my mind.

In a panic I remembered the stories my mother had told me of the strict convent where she had lived for six years. How the sisters were quite liberal with the strap and cane and her buttocks always seemed to be on the receiving end of their fierce blows.

Over the years Mother had described many of the punishments she had received, telling me in stroke-by-stroke detail how they had welted the skin, raised blisters, and once, drawn blood.

I had always thought her stories were exaggerated to strike terror into the heart of a child, but now, feeling the sting of the lash, I thought she hadn't even begun to describe the pain. It didn't seem anyone could live through this.

Gradually, though, I became more accustomed to the pain, and became aware of some of its nuances. Each blow was slightly different in intensity and position. Some blows would strike sensitive skin and I would scream in agony and throw my head to the sky and pray to God for mercy.

Other blows, however, were somehow sexually oriented. They would strike me and I would thrive on them, lurching up, every pore in my body sensitive and tense, my sex dripping. These blows never seemed to satisfy me, never seemed to quench my desire, the fire between my legs. I craved more, more whipping, harder whipping, heavier blows. Anything to stop that fire between my legs.

During the whole whipping the Red Devil stood in front of me and watched, his eyes on mine every time I looked. Whenever our eyes met I looked away, somehow embarrassed, though I don't know why. I could tell he enjoyed the whipping immensely, and the more uncomfortable it was for me the more he enjoyed it, which frustrated me terribly. I did not want to give him any pleasure, and yet here I was pleasing him by simply enduring his punishment.

Finally he signaled an end to the punishment and the first mate gave me one last terrific crack that sent spasms of pain and pleasure through me. I lay hanging, suddenly realizing I was exhausted, completely drained. My legs ached from being stretched apart, my arms hurt, and my buttocks throbbed and burned. But my sex was the most distressing. It burned most miserably like an itch that longs to be scratched, but there was no relief for me.

I was lost for a few moments, dreaming of pain and pleasure and William and the Red Devil and my father when suddenly I felt someone touch my breast. I opened my eyes and the first thing I noticed was that all the men were gathering around me, touching me, groping my body. Someone pinched my bottom cruelly and another gave it a hard slap. I felt lips licking one of my breasts but hard fingers were pinching the nipples of the other and I was too confused to even tell which was which.

Suddenly my body was alive with sensations. Fingers, lips, tongues, hands, touched my body. I felt hands prying at my sex, faces between my legs. Fingers widened the crack of my buttocks and poked at my anus. Hands pulled at my hair, caressed my breasts, brushed against my cheeks. Someone was pinching and slapping my thighs while others played with my legs and feet, tickling, pinching, and slapping. I tried to scream but couldn't--my mind was overwhelmed by sensations.

All around me was pushing and shoving and cursing and crude remarks. I could not see the Red Devil anywhere, and that troubled me. I heard comments and compliments, and some of the suggestions filled me with terror. My mind couldn't have imagined that such things could be done to a living being.

Then someone was being lifted in front of me by his fellows so that he could place his penis in my face. I shook my head and tried to get away but hands were everywhere, pulling and pushing on me, and there was nothing I could do. The last thing I remember was the slick flesh being pushed into my mouth, my eyes filled almost solely with the sight of the man's crotch hair. I fainted dead away.

Chapter 6
Discipline at Breakfast

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

When I awoke my first thought was that the past few days had been nothing but a dream. I was in a comfortable bed in a private cabin. Then I realized I was naked. And suddenly everything came rushing back to me and I lay back against my pillow, tears pouring from my eyes.

It was all true! It had all happened, just as I had thought I dreamt it. I realized my buttocks were sore and that reminded me of how I had been displayed before all the men, the whipping, and the mass groping to which I had thankfully lost consciousness. My cheeks burned when I remembered these things and I felt ashamed.

I felt even more embarrassed when I thought of the pirate captain, the Red Devil. I could feel myself growing aroused just thinking about him. What kind of man was he? He seemed a strange mixture of gentleman and bastard, and though he had been cruel to me I somehow felt he liked me. Or perhaps I just hoped he liked me.

The door to the cabin suddenly opened and a young boy stood there. I hadn't seen him before. He must have been about fourteen. Even he looked rather fierce to me, however.

"The captain sent me to fetch you to breakfast, my _lady_," he said with a sneer. It was obvious these pirates had no respect for titles.

I nodded and started to get out of bed when I realized I had no clothing. "Where are my clothes?" I said.

"You are to come as you are, _au naturel_ is how the captain put it."

"I most certainly will not!"

The boy looked shocked at my outburst. "You'll disobey the captain, the Red Devil himself?" he whispered in awe.

"He has no authority over me. He is a thief and dictator and a murderer and England shall see him hanged."

The boy shook his head in admiration. "After your punishment last night I should think you'd be mighty pleased to do what the captain says."

My cheeks grew hot as I realized this young lad had seen me displayed the evening before. With great difficulty I arose and wrapped the sheet around myself.

"I'll warn you again, lady, not to make the captain mad. He specifically said to 'come as you are.'" I shrugged and motioned for him to lead the way.

We came out on deck and the ship appeared deserted. A number of men were in the rigging, but few were on deck. The boy led me to the entrance to the galley and once again warned me against wearing the sheet. But on deck in broad daylight the concept of going about naked seemed ludicrous to me. Even the Red Devil couldn't demand that!

The breakfast was apparently for senior officers, or the equivalent in pirate rankings, for there were only about a dozen men present at the long table. The captain was at the far end and he stood up when I entered. He was dressed as the night before.

"What's this? Why's she wearing that garment?"

"It's the sheet from her bed, sir. She insisted, sir. I tried to tell her not to," said the cabin boy. The captain nodded and sent him away and approached me.

"Well, well, I see a night of rest has restored your spirit, my girl. I appreciate your spirit but you'd do better to learn some humility. We'll have to let you sleep on a wooden bench without sheets or blankets after this!" With that the Red Devil ripped the sheet from me and once again I stood naked before his men.

"I think a little humility is in order for breakfast this morning," he said quietly to me, winking at his first mate. He took my hand and led me to his chair. He placed his left foot on the chair and before I realized what he was going to do he had lifted me and thrown me across his leg. He spread my legs apart and through the bend in his leg and between my legs I could see the faces of all the men at the table and they mine. My face turned crimson at the thought of how I looked, flopped across his leg, my buttocks and sex exposed for everyone.

The Red Devil took my arms and positioned them behind my neck and ordered me to keep them there. He adjusted me so that the men could see my breasts as well as my face. I had a dreadful premonition I knew what he was going to do.

Sure enough, he began to spank me, heavy slaps with his hand that really hurt.

At first I thought I could take the pain. I did my best to remain still and quiet. "I'll show them," I thought. "He can spank me all day before I'll obey him." I resolved not to put on a show for these brutes.

Perhaps that was why I did not struggle to escape. Or perhaps I realized it would be futile. They would only tie me and the punishment would be even worse. Whatever the reason, I did not try to escape.

But it wasn't long before I was begging for mercy and vowing to obey his every wish. In retrospect I suppose it was this lack of resolve that humiliated me as much as anything. In my experience since then I have found that nothing tests the will as much a sound spanking. Everything in the world seems to lose perspective compared with the pain--a simple pain that seems bearable on the surface. Yet the spanking is deceitful--its nature is humiliation, not pain, and the humiliation eventually wins.

I tried to shut my eyes to keep from seeing the leering faces of the men watching, but the shock of the stinging blows kept making me open them. The small room made everything seem too intimate, somehow more real than the absurd nightmare of the previous evening. It was unbearable for me to picture myself, the daughter of an English lord, being spanked like a naughty child. I felt miserable and ashamed.

The spanking was a long one, far exceeding the few slaps he'd given me the night before. It didn't hurt as much as the whipping, but it was more painful as it was more humiliating, and grew worse and worse the longer it continued.

Finally the Red Devil stopped and I never had felt such relief. My buttocks were hot and sore but the pain was already fading. My sex was strangely wet, despite the pain. Perhaps this was because I was so close to the captain, because it was him who had spanked me. I found myself wondering if he had enjoyed the spanking, if his hand liked the feel of my warm bottom....

Suddenly I grew concerned. Something was wrong. He should have released me from this position by now, but I was still stretched across his leg. And then I saw something that brought fear to my heart.

The cabin boy was returning from the kitchen carrying a flat wooden board. He handed it to the captain and retreated. Suddenly I knew this spanking was far from over and I deeply, deeply regretted disobeying the captain, and I vowed to never disobey him again.

I felt the wooden paddle resting against my bottom and I shuddered and tensed, waiting for the first blow. It didn't come. Instead, the captain began to speak.

"Are you beginning to understand things, my lady? Are you forgetting that ugly haughtiness you display so proudly? Is your education succeeding?"

There was a pause and I realized I was supposed to answer. Without exactly intending to I said, "Yes, master." I could almost feel the wide smile of the Red Devil.

"Excellent answer, my girl! You are indeed learning. But do not be too proud. There is much, much yet for you to learn. You are still far too proud. But this punishment softens you, it takes you places you never thought you'd go. It takes you beyond yourself. Once there your true self can begin to emerge. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master," I said quickly and with a trace of awe. The frightening thing was that I _did_ understand. I understood it so clearly that it scared me. Because the captain was correct: I needed harsh discipline. I needed to be spanked.

I was proud and willful and all of my bravado was nothing but words in the wind. I acted rebellious and heroic because that was the way I thought I was supposed to act. Inside I knew that it was just an act. It was nothing I believed in. In fact, I suddenly realized, I had not worn the sheet because I was shy or attempting to protect my innocence--I had worn it because I had been afraid to be myself! The real me had thrilled at the idea of walking naked from my cabin to the galley with dozens of men watching my every move, lusting after my body.

So it was failure of being true to myself that I was being punished for, not disobedience. The captain was remarkably perceptive.

He was also very strong. I felt the paddle lift and I tensed. His hand suddenly touched my bottom and massaged it gently. I felt a cooling relief and realized he was spreading an ointment on my flesh. "This will protect your skin," he whispered.

Soon he finished and my buttocks felt more exposed and vulnerable than ever. Strangely, the first few blows felt good to me. I accepted them, relished them. I deserved this punishment, I thought. It was right.

The paddle was thin and wide and covered a great deal more area than the strap of the previous night. Very quickly the whole of my bottom was sore and stinging, and soon I had again lost any resolve I had.

I desperately clenched my hands to my neck to keep them in place but I could not help but wiggle and move my bottom to try and gain some relief from the painful spanks. I could hear the men laughing and commenting on this as it made the spectacle much more entertaining, but I was so lost in the spanking I no longer cared.

My breasts felt heavy and I could feel them jiggle as I moved under the blows. The captain was paddling me really hard now, really testing me. I sobbed and struggled to remain obedient. He was bringing his blows up from below now, actually lifting my buttocks with each stroke. This made my buttocks felt heavy, their movement leaden.

It was more than I could bear, I thought, and I began to lose control. I kicked my feet and suddenly my hands broke free and they were desperately covering my bottom. The next blow landed on my palms but I scarcely noticed if it hurt or not. All I could think about was what the Red Devil would think or do. I felt like a disobedient child, and I knew I had disappointed him.

The Red Devil paused. "Put your hands back," he said quietly. I did nothing for a moment and then slowly, very slowly, I put moved my hands back to my neck. He resumed the paddling as though nothing had happened. It was hard, so impossibly hard to keep my hands in place until he had finished but I did it.

The spanking didn't last too much longer, but it felt like it went on forever. I was sobbing and completely lost in the spanking when he finally stopped. My buttocks boiled and even after he had stopped I could still feel the blows landing.

He pulled me up and sat me down in his chair. The wood was hard against my red bottom but in a way it felt good. It took me a moment to reorient myself right side up, but when I was ready the captain made me keep my hands at my side leaving my breasts exposed. I didn't even care.

Then he began to feed me with his hands from his own plate. The meal was cold meat pie and porridge. It wasn't until I had eaten the first bite that I realized how hungry I was. It had been days since I'd had a real meal.

So the daughter of an English lord sat naked at a table and let herself be fed by the hand of her master, like a common mongrel. But I was far too gone to even think of significance of such things. In fact, I felt honored that the Red Devil would feed me himself.

And secretly, yes, secretly I hoped this meant he'd keep me as his pet.

Chapter 7
Kitchen Duties

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

After breakfast the captain gave me to the cabin boy. He was going to make sure I followed the captain's instructions. The first order of the day was a bath.

As the captain pointed out, most of the crew ignored bathing, but cultured women liked to feel clean. So Lady Leebury would be bathed each day after breakfast.

I was pleased about this at first, but even something as simple as a bath was not simple on a pirate ship. To begin, the bath was a public affair. Next, the water was cold sea water, and it was not heated. Finally, the cabin boy was given the arduous task of cleaning my body.

I stood in a tub at the bow of the ship while the cabin boy filled it with buckets of sea water pulled from shipside. I obediently held my hands over my head as he poured the cold water over my body. After my morning discipline I had no wish to anger the captain. I tried to ignore all the gawkers in the rigging and around the deck.

The cabin boy began to clean me. He used a rag and ran it over my body. There was no soap, but it was better than nothing. I was forced to remain motionless as he carefully washed my face and arms and neck, then my chest and breasts and back. He took special care cleaning my buttocks--it was obvious they were tender. The captain had given him some of the ointment, he told me, so after the bath he'd apply it.

As he washed me we began to talk. His name was Robb, he said, though no one called him anything but cabin boy. He'd ran away from home at nine because his father beat him so much. He'd been a stowaway on a ship that the pirates had attacked and he'd somehow convinced the Red Devil to let him join.

He dipped the cloth back into the water and began washing my legs. I could tell he was avoiding my crotch area as long as possible and that amused me. It seemed I had found someone, finally, that was more embarrassed than me!

"It's all right," I told him. I spread my legs a little so he could clean me better. He was fascinated by what he saw there, I could tell. "You've never seen a woman before, have you." It was a statement, not a question. He shook his head and blushed.

"I've been here since I was ten and we hardly ever get women. Few merchant ships have women on board and those that do usually kill 'em rather than let the Red Devil poke 'em."

"Well, explore away, young Robb. I've got no shame any more." That wasn't exactly true, I knew. My nudity was less shameful to me than before, true. But other things were even worse.

For instance, when we left the galley there was a huge crowd of men gathered outside the doorway. They had apparently heard the sounds of the paddling and come for a glimpse. And though I tried to walk proud and shameless I felt so humiliated when every man on the boat could see the evidence of my punishment. The captain had ordered that while I was on board I was to remain naked at all times and that I was to always walk with my hands behind my head so that everyone could see my body. There was no way to hide my red bottom from the men. I'm certain my face must have been nearly as red.

The cabin boy finished bathing me and poured another bucket of cold water over me to rinse me off. The salt water brought new life to the welts on my buttocks and I yelped a little. Then he used a large piece of cloth to dry me off.

Next he had me lie down on the foredeck and he spread the ointment on my buttocks. The ointment felt heavenly, but his every touch awoke all kinds of sensations. He was good--he massaged and kneaded the ointment into the flesh rather than simply spreading it across the surface, but every time he took his hands away my bottom burned.

When he had finished I felt very sleepy. "What's next?" I asked pleasantly.

"We go to the kitchen. You're to help prepare and serve lunch."

For an instant I thought about protesting but then I was quiet. "Whatever the captain wants," I whispered quietly.

At the kitchen I was given over to the custody of the cook. I hated him on sight. He was large, beefy man and he seemed unclean. He looked at me with such lecherous eyes he frightened me. He gripped my left breast in his huge hand and drooled as he tried to kiss me, waving the cabin boy away. "I'll take care of her, now, boy," he hissed.

Immediately he had me on my hands and knees scrubbing the filthy floor. He especially liked it when my face was low, so low my breasts would drag across the floor and my buttocks were high in the air behind me where he could get a better view. Whenever he thought I wasn't putting forth enough effort or wasn't low enough he'd smack my rump with his hand. Soon he decided that wasn't good enough so he switched to a wooden paddle. That way he could smack me without bending over.

It was miserable and degrading and I wept silently as I worked. The spanks were only occasional and didn't really hurt, but they weren't from the Red Devil, and that made me feel horrible.

After cleaning the floor I was put to work peeling potatoes and carrots. It was here the real cruelty and character of the cook became evident. He had made me stand on an old wooden box as I worked so that I had to bend over across the table. My breasts hung down and he would occasionally squeeze them or pinch my bottom.

At one point he told me I was working to slow and gave me a few cruel swats with the paddle, laughing as he did so. I tried to work faster but I had never peeled a potato in my life. I almost cut myself in my haste.

Exasperated, he came back again and I dreaded more spanking but instead he picked up a small carrot. The grin on his face made me freeze in fear. He came around behind me and suddenly he was opening my buttocks. He found my anus and plugged it soundly with the carrot, pushing it most of the way in.

"Keep it there or you'll be sorry," he hissed and slapped my thigh as he went back to work. "And hurry with those potatoes!"

The pain was intense. The carrot felt monstrous. It felt like it was swelling and growing. I struggled not to expel it and fought back the tears as I tried to peel potatoes faster. I hurried but it felt like someone was continually jamming a stick up my ass.

The Red Devil stopped by close to noon. I felt pleased he'd wanted to check up on me. I'd long since finished the potatoes and the cook had me stirring a huge pot of stew. I was still standing on the box and he hadn't removed the carrot. I felt horribly embarrassed when the Red Devil immediately noticed it. He whispered something to the cook who laughed loudly. "No problem, captain. It'll be a pleasure!"

The captain left without a word to me and I spent the next half hour in an agony of suspense. What had he said to the cook? Was he pleased with me or not?

I found out soon enough what the captain had in mind. The cook approached me as the staff began preparations for serving the noon meal.

"You will serve the stew to the crew," he said. "We must get you ready."

I had only begun to wonder what obscenities he had in mind when he produced a couple lengths of fine chain connected to small wooden clamps. These he attached to the nipples of my breasts letting the chains dangle. The clamps hurt just enough to be annoying and noticeable. On the ends of the chains he affixed small lead weights that tugged at my breasts and made me groan.

Next, he took my long dark hair and tied a bow at the end with a small piece of cloth. He added another weight with the bow so that my hair felt heavy and hung down straight behind my back. When I moved I could feel the weight bouncing against my back.

Taking a couple leather cuffs he placed these around my ankles and connected them with a short length of chain. I was now tethered to myself, subject to taking only tiny baby steps when I walked.

But he had further indignities to inflict upon me. He now took a large carrot, one with a leafy green stalk, and ordered me to spread my legs wide. When I didn't move fast enough he slapped the inside of my right thigh very hard.

I opened my legs wide and he put his fingers against the lips of my secret entrance and opened me wide. I sensed what he was about to do and horror and disbelief filled me. I was too frightened to move.

A few years before this time a cousin of mine had gotten married. We'd traveled to Edinburough for the wedding. My cousin was only a few years older than me, and she confided with me her sexual experiences. Most of what I knew of men I had learned from her those few days before the wedding.

She had told me of men and women and sexual contact. At first I had not believed her. To demonstrate her point she had obtained a carrot from the kitchen and proceeded to insert it, first into herself, then into me. I had never in my wildest dreams imagined such a thing. She showed me how I could rub the carrot against my little nodule, bringing forth groans of intense pleasure. After than day I had, on occasion, duplicated the experiment with carrots and bananas and other items.

But except for that time with Lily, it had always been in private. I could not imagine wearing that carrot for others.

The cook shoved the carrot inside me, hard. I gasped and began to cry. He just laughed and slapped my rump. "Enjoy it girl, it'll be there long enough."

I looked down and was humiliated. Part of the carrot and the green stalk stuck out of me. As I moved around the kitchen I became more and more distraught. The weights pulled at my breasts and my nipples were so hard the clamps felt like a constant hard pinch. My hair was heavy and pulled my head back. But worst of all were the carrots, for the cook had not removed the one in my anus. The one between my legs gave me some pleasure as I moved but not enough to compensate for the indignities of walking with it. I abhorred the way it drew attention to my private area.

The cook had me carrying bowls of stew out to the crew. It was the most humiliating task I'd ever done. The sailors pinched and poked and patted me as I passed, pointing and whispering and admiring my body. My face was flushed with shame as I hurried back and forth between the kitchen and the dining area.

The bowels of stew were hot and once when I reacted to a particularly painful pinch I spilled a bowl on a sailor who leapt up and roared in anger. In a rage he slapped my face and then my breasts. I was too stunned to move. He took the bowel and poured the remains of the stew over my breasts.

The stew was a thick and tasteless mash. It slowly dripped across my chest, a large portion sliding between my breasts. It was hot but not boiling and did not burn me. The sailor reached out and with his hand spread the gooey mess all over my breasts.

The room roared with laughter. "Lick her off!" shouted someone and the sailor seemed to think this was an excellent idea. My stomach turned at seeing him approach, his tongue already halfway extended.

He licked me clean, eating the stew off my chest. He licked my breasts and my nipples, even biting my flesh occasionally, smiling as he inflicted pain and humiliation. Around me others pinched and slapped at my legs and buttocks, and there was no way I could escape. I stood patiently until the sailor was finished and then returned to the kitchen for more bowls.

That meal was the longest meal I ever endured. Many of the men were very hungry and asked for seconds. I was not allowed to eat but served the entire meal, rushing as best as I could, hampered by the carrots and chains. The leftover stew on my chest dried and grew sticky and I longed for another bath.

I after I had finished serving I was allowed to eat. The cook placed a bowl of stew at the center of a long table and I was forced to crawl the length of the table on my knees, my hands gripping the back of my neck.

Once I reached the stew I had to bend over and eat without using my hands. While I ate the cook praised my body and told the crew that I was the most marvelous "entertainment." Occasionally as he talked he would slap my rump or squeeze one of my breasts, purportedly to illustrate a point in one of his stories.

When I had finished the stew the cook had me stand of the table. All the sailors had gathered around and I was again astonished at the variety of personalities and body types represented.

But the cook now asked me if I wanted the carrot removed. I was unsure what answer to give so I told the truth: "Yes, please," I said.

I thought he would laugh and taunt me but instead he pulled the carrot out immediately. I felt grateful to him for a moment. Then he offered the carrot to my mouth and ordered me to eat it.

I almost vomited. The carrot was wet with my juices and the idea of eating it repulsed me. But the cook threatened to put it back if I did not eat it, so I took a bite and tried not to taste it. Somehow I managed to choke down that whole carrot. It was not really bad, but I was repulsed by the concept.

When the cook fed me the other carrot I was passed caring and swallowed it in one mouthful, grateful for the relief and ignoring the protests of my stomach.

After this the cook had me squat before the group of men and open my legs wide. He climbed onto the table beside me and swatted my buttocks with the paddle as he urged me to open wider.

I spread my legs in desperation, my face crimson. It was an awkward position and it made my legs and back ache, but I held it, groaning under the blows of the paddle, tears running down my face and chest and dripping towards my sex. I was completely exposed. Everyone could see that my private area was wet with desire and the men laughed and jeered and made lewd comments.

The cook made me walk in this position. Or waddle, I should say. He paddled me up and down the table so that all the men could get a closer look at me.

It was during this performance that the door opened and the Red Devil entered. I had my back to the doorway but the attitude of the men changed and I knew instantly that it was the captain. I could not turn around until the cook ordered me to, but when I saw the captain my heart almost stopped.

The Red Devil looked so handsome and well-groomed, especially after having spent an hour with the crude sailors. He had a large smile on his face and he told the cook to run me up and down the table once more so he could watch.

The cook's paddle was even more cruel while the captain watched, but my tears were happier ones because at least the Red Devil was there to enjoy my suffering. For him I felt I could endure anything, but for the cook and the other commoners I felt nothing but scorn and I felt shame simply being in their company.

After that final run to the end of the table and back the captain ordered the crew back to work and told the cook to leave me with him. Then he removed the weights from my breasts and gave them to the cook. The cook left, pleased that he had impressed the captain, but obviously jealous that I was no longer his to control.

I felt excitement at being alone with the captain. What was he going to do? What did he think of me? Did he care for me at all, or did he simply enjoy punishing me?

My mind whirled as he leapt up onto the table and approached. He ran his hands through my hair, smoothing and caressing it. When he reached the bow at the end he untied it and released the weight.

"You have lovely hair, Lady Sarah," he whispered.

"Yes, Captain," I said.

"You are learning beautifully!"

"Thank you, Captain," I said quietly. "I-I am not sure exactly what you intend for me, Captain. But I will try to cooperate and obey."

He smiled and my heart leaped to see him pleased. "What I intend for you, Lady Sarah, is for you to be my love slave." I looked at him blankly, not comprehending.

"You will obey my every command immediately and without hesitation. You will perform for myself or for the crew whenever I order it. You will suffer when I order you punished and you will accept your punishments with humility and the knowledge that every blow, every degradation, every slap, is exactly what you deserve.

"All this you will do in an effort to please me, and if you fail you will be punished most severely in ways you cannot yet imagine. From this moment on your life has no other meaning than to give me pleasure, whatever pleasure I seek, even if that pleasure is your own suffering. Do you understand?"

I looked at him wordless for a long time and slowly nodded. "Yes, my master," I whispered, not even realizing I hadn't called him captain. All I could think about was that he wanted me for himself. I would be his! This handsome, proud, strong, violent man wanted me, _me_! I felt I could endure anything for him. I wanted to please him. Just the thought of making him angry made me want to cry.

"Good," he said quietly. "I think we shall go to my cabin now. There is much for you to learn." With that he picked up that dreadful paddle and spanked me as I crawled on my hands and knees in front of him.

My heart was pounding as I crawled down the corridor. What was he going to do? What mysteries did his quarters contain? What were the lessons I needed to learn?

These and countless other questions whirled in my brain as I hurried toward my fate. But the realities of what was to happen to me on that ship I would never have believed if someone had told me in advance. In truth the events of the next few months would have been beyond my comprehension at the time.

Chapter 8
The Captain's Quarters

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

The Captain's cabin was almost twice the size of my tiny room, but that was not saying much. It was neat and clean, however, and well organized. There was a small desk and chair in the corner and it was covered with writing materials. I noticed several books and I was very impressed.

"A pirate that reads!" I thought. "How extraordinary!"

But I did not have much time for dwelling on these items as the captain gave me another smack with the paddle and told me to climb onto the bed and lie down. I obeyed immediately, lying on my back on the rough blanket. He stretched by hands out above my head so that I was completely exposed to his scrutiny. He began to examine me.

He looked at my feet and touched my toes. He ran his fingers along my legs and thighs. When he reached my sex he expertly placed his finger on exactly the correct spot to generate an intense surge of pleasure. He grinned at my reaction and said, "Your body understands who your master is, even if you do not."

I could only nod, gasping at his continued touch. Suddenly he took his fingers away leaving me in more pain than I thought I could bear. I wanted desperately to touch myself down there but I knew instinctively that it was forbidden. I held my arms in place but could not help gyrating my pelvis in a vain attempt to achieve satisfaction.

With a low growl he slapped my breasts, not once, but several times, a series of hard left and right blows that made my the flesh of breasts shift back and forth following his hand. I desperately held my hips steady and concentrated on the pain of my nipples to distract me from the greater pain of my desire.

He stopped slapping me finally and took a breast in each hand and examined them closely. His scrutiny was so precise I found myself terrified that he would discover a flaw, some horrible defect that would cause him to reject me. My eyes teared at the prospect and I was most relieved when he began to squeeze my breasts and pinch the nipples. The sensation was intense and I felt my hips rise off the bed as I tensed and shuddered at the waves of pain and pleasure that ran through my body.

I had never felt anything like this before. No one had ever touched my breasts. I dare say no man had seen them before the Red Devil. (William had asked me to show them to him once, when he was quite drunk and I was feeling loose, but I had been quite shocked and refused.)

But now the captain was biting the nipples and sucking on my breasts. But even while he had one breast in his mouth his hand continued to massage and squeeze the other. It was a heavenly and intoxicating feeling. My sex was incredibly wet.

The Red Devil took his lips away from my breasts and brought them up to my neck and kissed me. He kissed my throat and my chin and finally my lips. Again I was lost in his sweet kiss.

I could feel his power and masculinity through his forceful kiss, and his tongue began to probe into my mouth. He ran his tongue across my teeth and against my tongue. He pushed against it, hard, and I pushed back. I could feel his saliva in my mouth and rather than revolt me, I found I was aroused by such bizarreness.

Throughout the kiss his hands had never stopped exploring my body, touching my breasts and arms and legs and sex. His fingers were all over me, feeling, touching, probing. It was an exhausting sensation, my whole body alive with feeling.

He turned me over suddenly, running his lips through my hair and down my back. He kissed my sore buttocks, the gentle touch awakening all the sensitized flesh. I felt his tongue lick at the red welts and I thought I had never felt anything so pleasant.

Then his tongue flicked into the crack of my buttocks and I froze in fear and amazement. His tongue tickled my sensitive area, driving me to thrust my buttocks up into his face so he could get a better lick. To be teased by that darting tongue was unbearable.

But the captain slapped my bottom and laughed. "Hold still, mighty virgin," he hissed. "There's plenty of time. We're in no hurry."

Perhaps he was in no hurry, but I had no patience. I was aroused like I had never been before in my life and I wanted immediate satisfaction. It was agony for me to relax and wait for his schedule.

"Your buttocks are barely welted," he said quietly, his hands caressing my flesh, sending shivers down my spine. "You have excellent skin, very resilient, tough yet smooth and supple."

"Thank you, master," I breathed, hoping the answer would please him.

"I shall enjoy punishing such beautiful buttocks as yours, my dear. I think we shall begin with a sound spanking every morning before breakfast. It will do you wonders!"

My heart was pounding in terror at this news, but a part of me I did not recognize was excited by the prospect of the daily spanking. What would it be like to be spanked every day? Would it become boring or old? Would my skin take such punishment? How severe of a spanking was the captain referring to, anyway?

But the captain was already pulling me across his lap for another spanking right now. I struggled to contain my tears. "Why do you cry?" he asked pleasantly.

"Because you are going to spank me, Captain," I said.

"I have not begun."

"But you are about to," I cried. "I am crying because I know it will hurt."

The captain seemed amused by my answer. "Perhaps I shall be gentler this time." But he was not. His spanks were as hard as ever and he laughed gaily as he pounded on my bottom. The blows made me bounce around on his lap as I wriggled and tried to escape the punishment, which only made him laugh more.

"I love to watch your bottom squirm like that!" he said, spanking me harder. "Now move that bottom!"

I wasn't sure if he was serious or not but I decided to not take any chances. I wiggled my bottom as fast as I could, frantically jerking it up and down, left and right. It didn't relieve the pain, of course, but it did please the captain. He laughed and told me I was wonderful, that I was the most beautiful girl in the world.

He turned me around and sat me in his lap, my burning buttocks pressed against his legs. "Now kiss me," he said quietly, and I complied. While we kissed his hand sought out my sex and his fingers pushed themselves into me, causing me to blush and feel hot at the same time.

We pulled apart to breathe and he took my hand and guided it to my sex. "Touch yourself," he said. I was horrified but his tone gave me no room for argument. I obeyed, feeling shameful.

My fingers found that little pleasure nodule in my secret place and I began to stroke it gently. I was already quite aroused and it seemed like just moments I was climaxing.

Suddenly the Red Devil pulled my hand away leaving my hips surging blindly forward and my sex starving. I let out a cry of protest and he slapped my left breast. He pushed me to the floor beneath him and I felt myself wilting. "No!" I wanted to scream. "Please don't send me away!" I thought desperately, for I believed he was upset with me.

But he was smiling. He stood up and touched his crotch. I saw a large bulge in his pants there and my heart caught in my throat. Suddenly there it was, a long tube-like projection, much heavier and harder than cousin Lily had described. It was a deep red, almost purple in color and as the captain stroked it with his hand it almost seemed to grow bigger before my eyes. He leaned his head back and looked up to the sky and groaned.

"Take it in your mouth," he whispered, his voice harsh and desperately eager. "Quickly!" Without much time to think about it I obeyed. I was almost as curious as I was repulsed, but the threat of angering the captain made my decision an easy one. My bottom was still sore from the last time I had displeased him.

His organ was alive and pulsing in my mouth, reminding me a little of a serpent, and I almost choked. But it was warm and salty and I could tell it pleased him very much. I licked him lightly with my tongue and his immediate reaction encouraged me to lick him more. I licked his sex clean. I found my own sex was dripping down my thighs I was so aroused.

"Suck on it!" His cried was plaintive, the cry of a helpless little boy. Did I really have such power over him? Did he now need sexual satisfaction as much as I had moments ago? For a second I thought of pulling away and tormenting him, but I restrained myself. He would only punish me and say that I was the one who needed to be tormented, not him.

Suddenly he was convulsing, his organ jerking slowly into my mouth, pressing against the back of my throat. I wanted to gag but his hands were behind my head and roughly pushed me into me. The jerking increased its rhythm and I increased my sucking to match its tempo.

Faster and faster we went until my mouth was suddenly filled with a liquid and I realized he had spurted into my mouth. Cousin Lily had told me about the spurting--her fiance had come into her hand to show her how it worked. But she had never spoken of taking the man's sex into her mouth, and certainly never mentioned coming in the mouth.

I heaved as I began to gag and the captain pulled himself out of me. With his strong hands he gripped my jaw shut. "Swallow it, little Lady. Swallow the come of a common man."

I swallowed, desperately, and tried not to taste the come. It was slick and salty and I thought back to the pain of the paddling that morning in an effort to distract my mind from what I was doing. I thought of how I'd been positioned, hanging upside down across his leg, helpless and vulnerable, and I managed to swallow the last of the liquid.

The captain seemed very pleased with me. "You are becoming an excellent love slave," he said proudly. "Slowly but surely your pride is disappearing. Every spank and every humiliation you've received is breaking down those false airs and stuffy ideas. Soon you will even _think_ like a commoner!"

I nodded obediently. A part of me felt alive and invigorated by what the captain said. Another part wondered what my mother would think if she could see me now. She'd die of shock right on the spot, no doubt. The very idea that her daughter would be seen with such common trash was scandalous. That her daughter would be engaged in sexual activity with such low-bred creatures--criminals and outlaws, no less--was even worse.

That thought made me wonder again why I was cooperating with the captain. Why wasn't I fighting his every advance, screaming at his touch, spitting on his face when I got the chance? I decided it wasn't so much the punishment I feared, though I did dread the spankings and public exposure, but the lack of commitment on my part. I realized that I just didn't really care about my honor, or even the honor of my family. My father was a boor, really, not to speak ill of the dead. He was not much liked by his friends and his enemies hated him.

So why struggle and subject myself to more pain and punishment? Besides, maybe being a love slave to the handsome captain was something I _wanted_ to do. Who knew? In my entire life I had almost never been allowed to make a decision. I was not sure what I wanted. But I knew I felt moved by the captain and I wanted to please him. If he wanted me to be a love slave then that's what I'd be until I decided otherwise.

The captain lifted me to the bed and laid me down. He ran his hands all over my body, touching my sex with his fingers. Suddenly he laid on top me, kissing me, his chest pressing against my sore breasts. I felt his finger touching my sex and suddenly froze in shock: it wasn't his finger.

He entered me quickly and abruptly, the pain taken away by the shock I felt. As he began thrusting against me I thought I would burst with pleasure. My legs were slick with my juices and his heavy weight on top of me, pushing him into me, felt wonderful.

I thrust upward with my hips, lifting my buttocks off the bed. He moaned and clutched at my buttocks, pulling them to himself. His hands were large and his grip painful but I loved his every touch.

Everything now was directed at trying to satisfy the craving of my sex. As one being we pulsed and beat together, our cries and moans loud and frantic. The tempo increased until I thought I would die from the vibrations. Then he gave me a violent thrust that hurt my very bones and suddenly his organ exploded inside me, his seed spurting. The affect was liberating, invigorating. I had never felt such incredible desire and complete satisfaction together. I was lost in a dreamy haze and soon drifted asleep, vaguely aware the captain was quietly sleeping across my breasts, his organ still inside me.

Chapter 9
Games In the Evening

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

The captain let me sleep the rest of the afternoon. When I awoke he was gone. I opened the tiny porthole and saw the sun was almost touching the water. It would be dark soon.

Quietly I opened the captain's door. I wasn't sure if I was allowed to leave but nature was calling me desperately. To my surprise Robb, the cabin boy, stood outside. He grinned at me.

"The captain tired you out, eh?"

I blushed and looked away. "I need to use the bathroom." He nodded and led me to a small room where I took care of things. When I exited I saw him leap away from the door as though he had been leaning against it. Perhaps he had been listening.

He actions made me curious and I studied Robb more carefully. He was a young man, it was true, but he was strong and fit and quite handsome in an odd way. His features were not quite those of a man but no longer those of a boy.

With a shock I saw there was a noticeable bulge in his pants and I realized with sudden clarity that he was aroused by me! That explained so much of his behavior--the odd comments and sudden shyness during my bath that morning, and his eavesdropping a moment ago.

With a quick laugh I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Thanks for being such a good friend," I said. He blushed mightily and stared at his feet.

I was suddenly astonished to realize how young and naive he looked. Just hours ago, during the bath, I had thought him older than me. He had been in control. Now he was blushing before me and I was the elder. In a flash I understood--it was not him who had changed, but me! My experience with the captain had changed me. I was now a completely different person. I was a woman.

Robb led me onto the deck where he bathed me again. I felt very grateful. My chest was still sticky with the remains of the stew and my skin was sweaty. Being naked all time I was much more sensitive to my cleanliness. I couldn't just throw on clean clothes to feel clean.

After the bath the cabin boy again put ointment on my buttocks. "Your rump is sure fine, Lady Sarah," he said with desire in his voice. "It heals fast. There are barely any welts and it's hardly even red any more." I nodded silently, my mind lost in the painful relief of his massage.

"I guess the captain spared you for tonight."

"What?" I asked, my heart thumping heavily.

"He has big plans for you tonight. It's a party. You're to provide the entertainment for the crew."

"What does that mean?"

He smiled. "I don't know anything except you'll be made to perform. The captain said there would be games for you to play." My face flushed and my chest was tight. So there would be games to endure tonight. What kind of games did pirates play?

Naughty ones, it was evident. The dining hall was crowded with rowdy sailors. They had just finished supper and were talking loudly and crudely among themselves as the remains of the meal was cleared. They cheered when I entered. Thankfully the cabin boy led me straight to the captain who was beaming at me.

"Lady Sarah, how delightful you look! We have wonderful plans for you this evening. The crew is restless and would benefit greatly from your services. Would you mind providing the entertainment?"

Though it was posed as a question, I, of course, had no real choice. I bowed low to the Red Devil and solemnly kissed his feet. "Whatever my master desires."

"Excellent answer, my Lady!" He waved to a group of men standing near by. "Clear those tables aside, men. The Lady has volunteered to entertain us!"

The cheers and shouts of the men were deafening, and I was already beginning to regret my rash acceptance. What kind of entertainment did the captain have in mind? What were these games? I found out too soon.

A large area in the center of the room was cleared and the men gathered in a loose circle around the edges of the room. The captain took a small sack from his belt and opened it. It was filled with small gold coins roughly an inch in diameter and an eighth of an inch thick.

"I have twenty gold coins here," roared the Red Devil. "I warn you men not to let your fingers seek to 'borrow' any of these coins--you will feed the sharks tonight if you do." The men grumbled and nodded. It was obvious that all the men greatly feared the captain and had great respect for him. No one would dare steal the coins.

The Red Devil scattered the coins across the wooden floor the coins rolling far and wide. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor. I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled out to him, my face already burning.

"You see all these coins, Lady Sarah? I want you to retrieve them, one by one, with your lips while crawling on your hands and knees. You will bring each coin to me and place it in my hand. Do you understand?"

I nodded, my heart thumping loudly. The captain smiled and waved his first mate to his side. The mate, the same large man that had whipped me the night before came forward carrying a large black paddle. It seemed to be made of leather and it bent easily when he flexed it in his hands.

"The mate will give you the proper encouragement to make sure you execute this task as rapidly as possible," said the captain with a grin. The men cheered at the anticipation of this spectacle and my heart skipped a beat. I dreaded having to hurry in front of all these men, being driven on my knees like a dog.

I did not have much time to ponder the inevitable, however, as the mate gave me a hard blow across the buttocks and I darted forward and tried to pick up the nearest coin with my teeth. It really wasn't that difficult except that I was very nervous and it seemed that each time I got a coin in my grip a blow from the paddle would startle me and I'd drop the coin.

It took me several tries to get a firm grip on the first coin and I rushed to the Red Devil and dropped it in his outstretch hand, the paddle smacking me the whole time.

I turned, ready for another dash when the captain suddenly ordered me to hold still and spread my legs wide. I obeyed, no part of my brain conceiving what he had in mind.

I felt his fingers touching my buttocks, pulling the cheeks apart and I again felt a wave of shame. His fingers found my anus and he suddenly pushed the coin I had given him into me, pushing it in deep with his finger. It burned and I felt plugged but I swallowed my pride and held still. "Don't you dare expel it!" he hissed violently and I nodded, my face red with shame. He gave me a friendly slap on the rump and I set off for more coins.

Again and again I grabbed up coins with my lips and brought them to the captain. The mate managed a good eight or ten blows each trip and the captain added the new coins to the growing number in my anus.

My buttocks felt huge and swollen, my anus tight and filled. Yet there were still dozens of coins everywhere I looked. I raced onward, forgetting grace. I crawled desperately, snatching up coins with my teeth, my breasts dragging painfully across the rough wooden floor, and I trotted back to the captain and turned so he could shove the coin up my arse.

After what seemed an eternity of this I finally began to see progress. There were very few coins left now. I had to hunt for them, my search made frantic by the constant smacks from the first mate. I would circle the room, the paddle always finding my ripe buttocks, the men cheering and leering as I passed near them.

Finally I gave the captain the last coin and he quietly said, "Nineteen," and pushed it into me. I cried bitter tears as I crawled away, my knees and breasts hurting, my buttocks burning. I couldn't find the coin anywhere. I began more and more frantic and the mate was even more cruel with the paddle, striking the tender backs of my thighs and even my calves. There was no other coin.

I raced back to the captain and kissed his feet, dripping hot tears on his legs, wordlessly begging for mercy. But the Red Devil grew angry and shouted at me and in an even deeper shame I circled the room once again, wandering near the men along the edges of the room, looking at their feet. I wagged my bottom and tried to escape from the attentions of the mate but he was not fooled.

Suddenly one of the men was jostled and fell over slightly, lifting his foot to reveal the gleam of gold. In a flash I was there, rudely shoving his foot aside as I bit the gold coin. I placed it in the captain's hand and his wide smile forgave all my sins.

As I turned my buttocks toward him my anus was throbbing and it was all I could do to keep from expelling the load within me. His fingers were hard as he opened me and forced the last coin in. It was an incredibly tight fit and I felt split after it slipped in.

He had me take a quick tour of the room on my knees, my hands behind my head. The mate paddled me mercilessly the entire trip, the hands of the crew reaching out to brush and pinch my breasts as I passed.

When I was back to the captain he pulled out the sack and laid it on the floor before me. "Now Lady Sarah, daughter of Lord Leebury, squat on the floor and expel the coins."

My face was burning as he made me face him while I obediently squatted and pushed the coins out. I knew he was attempting to shame me but I was so grateful for the relief from holding the coins inside me that it did not matter. The crowd of men behind me cheered as each coin slowly came out, their view of my anus clear in my crouched position, my legs wide. The captain in front of me watched as I clenched my teeth and worked to push out the coins, my face red with the exertion.

The Red Devil smiled when I finished and making me remain in the painful squat, slowly counted the coins. When he reached twenty he stood up and held the bag in the air and the men cheered.

To celebrate, the captain had the mate paddle me in the squatting position, my legs wide and exposing my sex to him. Then he had me paddled while I turned so that he could see my red buttocks punished while I faced the scrutiny of the sailors, my body an open book to them.

But the games were hardly over. Ointment was produced and the cabin boy massaged it onto my burning buttocks, the relief hurting almost as much as more blows from the paddle.

Meanwhile the men were engaged in some kind of game with dice, groups of men playing and the apparent winners from each group competing against each other. This continued until there were only six men left and these quickly removed their clothes and stood naked before the captain. "We are ready, sir," said one and the captain nodded and waved the cabin boy to bring me over.

As I rose to crawl to the captain all the tiny welts on my buttocks came alive and my skin burned lightly. My thighs were moist and I realized my sex was wet and hungry with desire. The men's organ's were large and stiff. I was amazed at how different each looked. They each were a slightly different size and of varying colors and textures. The amount of hair surrounding the base of each organ also varied.

But the mate was giving wooden paddles to each of the six men. The paddles were large and thin and looked rough and crudely made. I decided that they had been carved during the day in anticipation of this evening's games. My heart sank at the thought of more paddling, but I knew I would take anything to please the captain.

The game was simple. The six men lined up next to each other I was instructed to crawl on my knees past them as fast as I could, my hands behind my head. They would each paddle my buttocks as I passed and the one who struck me the hardest would be rewarded. The captain was to be the judge.

My first run through the gauntlet was miserable. The blows were all very hard and loud, and I struggled in my awkward position. The men were spaced a couple feet apart to give them ample room to swing their paddles and it was difficult for me to cover such distance quickly. Quite often one was able to catch me with more than one blow.

I would have much preferred the concealment on crawling on my hands and knees. Here I was upright, my breasts and sex and face exposed for all the men to see.

After that first frenzied run, the winner's organ felt huge in my mouth, and he thrust it in so deep I thought for sure I would choke. I began to suck and lick his penis in desperation. All I could see in front of me was his mass of dark curly hair. My sex was wet and my buttocks throbbed from the recent paddling. When he finally came I quickly swallowed the sour salty come and choked back my tears as I was guided into position for another run. I felt no satisfaction, only desire.

The next few runs were much the same. I could feel my sex dripping down my thighs and I wanted desperately to touch myself but I could only keep my hands on my neck and suck with extra vigor and relish the harsh spanks on my buttocks.

As the game progressed it became more and more difficult to satisfy the men. I was forced to work to satisfy them. I soon learned what pleased each man the most, and I would suck and lick and caress their organs with my tongue until they were satisfied.

Again and again I ran the terrible gauntlet, feeling the rush of panic and my own frantic terror followed by the break of being allowed to satisfy one of the paddlers and swallowing their seed.

Finally the captain declared an end to this game and I sat back on my burning haunches. My body trembled and my stomach felt slightly sick from all the come I'd swallowed, but my sex was dripping frantically and I was desperate for satisfaction. The tastes of all the different men were in my mouth and I hungered for them, I wanted to feel their organs inside me. But I could only sit and watch as they dressed and joined the other crew members, joking and laughing, their comrades jealous of their satisfaction.

I was panting with relief when the men began another game of dice like the first. This time the first six winners were excluded. "Were they picking another six men?" I thought in horror. "Please, I can't go through that again!" I silently begged the captain. But he was behind me and I was afraid to turn around and look at him.

The new six men were part of another game. The men took off their clothes and positioned themselves about six feet from me. I was handed a large wooden ring approximately five inches in diameter.

"If you land your ring on their cock you will be rewarded," said the captain quietly. "If you miss you must reward them."

My first throw struck the young man's stomach and missed his penis completely. I was promptly forced to satisfy him. This was repeated with the next two men, but the fourth man I at least managed to hit his penis, but the ring did not stay.

The fifth man, however, I did ring. I could tell he was dreadfully disappointed. His cock was so large and swollen and he almost seemed in pain. For a moment I felt sorry for him.

But it was time for my reward, though I had no idea what it was to be. I was led over to a rope hanging from the ceiling and my wrists were attached to it. Dangling from this two of the men came and held my legs apart, one on each side.

The man I had ringed now came forward and knelt before me. He placed his face between my legs and my sex almost spurted in his face I was wet so suddenly. I had no idea what he was going to do but I was so desperate for satisfaction that the men holding me could hardly keep me still.

Then the man beneath me began to lick my secret place, especially that little nodule of flesh that is so sensitive. His touch was engulfing me, yet it was not enough. I wanted something harder, something more definite and I frantically tried to push myself onto him, but the rope above me constrained me.

Again and again he licked me, driving me wild. I was convulsing and writhing on the rope, the men struggling to hold me. Suddenly the Red Devil was in front of me. At first I was terrified he would take the man away but he was smiling. He reached out and slapped my left breast, and then my right. Again and again he slapped my breasts. Below, the man had not stopped licking my crotch. I was in a frenzy of desire and pain, my breasts throbbing, the nipples so hard they felt they should burst and fall off at any moment.

Then I came and there was such a rush of welcome release, desperate freedom and I wiggled weakly on the rope, slowly riding out the last of my orgasm. The man pulled out from me, his face wet with my juices, his expression a mixture of wonder and disgust.

I was untied and led back to the lineup and this time I missed number six and had to satisfy him. Through the corner of my eye I watched the fifth man writhing in agony watching me, and I knew he needed release. I decided when I came back to him I'd miss on purpose.

But that was the end of that game, apparently. The captain did not want me to have much satisfaction. Another six men were chosen, and this game was much more to my liking.

I was terrified at first when I saw the horrible cook approaching, but he was only carrying a large pottery pot to the captain. I was led back to the rope and tied. This time, however, my legs were also tied, stretched wide and attached to fasteners in the floor, similar to how I'd been tied the night before, though that seemed like eons ago.

The pot the cook had brought contained honey, and the captain quickly poured spoonfuls of this across my breasts and buttocks. The sticky substance oozed over my skin, tickling me. Almost immediately the six chosen men began to lick me clean.

The men licked my skin like I was water and they were dying of thirst. They licked my breasts and my nipples, my burning buttocks and even the crack between my cheeks where the honey dribbled down to my sex.

The sensations of half a dozen men licking my body clean was incredible, but I was still unsatisfied. My sex was wet and dripping, and the honey that dribbled down my back and front collected at my crotch. It was ticklish and none of the men would go near my sex, even when I moaned and pleaded with them. Apparently that was forbidden territory for them.

I could feel the honey and my juices mixing and dripping down my thighs and onto the floor. Some of the honey was drying on my sex, constricting the skin and leaving me struggling for satisfaction.

The Red Devil would occasionally add more honey when he thought it necessary, making it possible for all the men to lick every part of my body.

When I was licked clean everywhere except for my pulsating sex, I was let down and ushered on my knees to the waiting men who had now removed their clothes. I was already becoming used to naked men, and I was so aroused already that this in itself did nothing to heighten my desire.

But the captain now took dollops of the sweet honey and dropped one on each of the stiff cocks waiting me. As I took the first one it my mouth, tasting the incredible sweetness of the honey, I was incredibly aroused. Even the salty come tasted like heaven to me and I swallowed it eagerly and went searching for more.

I serviced each of the men twice, once with honey and once without. But I was so aroused that either way it seemed to taste good. I was quite disappointed when the men moved away and dressed and I turned and kissed the captain's feet, my heart thudding in my mouth as I wondered what else was in store for me.

It seemed that the first mate was to have his fun with me next. I was taken back to the rope from the ceiling and tied, my feet dangling. A strip of black cloth was placed over my eyes and tied from behind. Another was tied around my mouth and head. I was effectively blind and mute.

I could feel the mate's hand on my bottom. He suddenly gave me a sharp spank followed immediately by another and another. The series of hard spanks went on for quite some time, leaving me breathless and crying when it was finished. Every time I had thought it was over it had continued, until finally I gave up all hope of it ever ending, and then the spanking stopped.

Suddenly I was spun around and around. Each time I was back where I had started I received a hard spank. The tempo of the spinning increased, and faster and faster came the spanks. My blindfold was soaked with my tears and I was screaming into my gag, relieved that I could release tension that way.

I felt dizzy and sick and confused, my bottom throbbing and suffering under the hard slaps. My sex was as wet as ever, dripping down my thighs. I felt exhausted and confused.

Then the mate was slapping my thighs, my buttocks ignored, which made them feel all the more swollen and sore. My thighs were tender and untouched and brought fresh tears to my eyes. I was still being spun, the motion making my head ache.

Again the mate returned to my buttocks, drawing cheers from the watching men, though I could see none of them. In some ways my blindness was a blessing, but it other ways it made even a simple spanking much more terrifying.

The spinning stopped and again I was simply being spanked. My buttocks were really hurting me now, and I was crying loudly. The tight gag prevent anyone from hearing my cries, however, as I writhed and moaned under the mate's fierce blows.

Like a savior I heard the captain's voice saying that I had provided enough entertainment and I cried in relief as the mate stopped spanking me. I spun slowly until someone stopped me and untied me.

The Red Devil touched my face--I knew it was him without being able to see--and I felt him place a leather collar around my neck. It fit snugly, but did not constrict my breathing in the least. Apparently he hooked a leash to the collar because I found myself being pulled by my neck.

"Stay as you are, Lady Sarah," he said quietly, his voice almost drowned out by the wild cheers of the men. "Stay on your knees and keep your hands behind your head. Follow me."

With a thrill I followed eagerly, hoping against hope that he was taking me to his quarters. As I crawled in haste, my knees hurting from the hard wood, faceless hands from both sides of me slapped by buttocks and thighs and breasts. Apparently I was being led through a gauntlet of all the men and they all tried to get one last touch of my body. Hands squeezed my breasts and my buttocks. My skin was already so sensitive that I was painfully aware of every touch, yet there were so many my brain spun and I could not keep track of them. All I knew was that my entire body felt tremendously alive with sensations, and my sex dripped down my thighs and I hungered for the captain's cock.

We left the men and I crawled in blessed silence for a period and then the captain opened a door and pulled me inside. Almost immediately I felt his cock in my mouth, huge and impossibly hard. It came and came and came in my mouth and I sucked and swallowed and desperately tried to satisfy him.

He threw me on the bed and the rough coverlet felt like sandpaper against the welts on my skin but I did not care. I felt the captain's cock lying between my breasts and the sensation was delightful. I pushed my breasts together from each side, holding his cock in place as he gently thrust himself forward and backward against my chest. Occasionally his cock would come so far forward I could touch it with my outstretched tongue and I could taste his fluid on the tip.

He pulled his cock out from my breasts and I felt my desire increase as he dragged it across my belly and toward my starving sex. He entered me quickly and easily, my desire peaking. I shrieked in pain and pleasure but I was still gagged and all that came out was a fierce moan.

He pumped against me and I felt his cock exploded inside of me, dozens of small explosions, each one a little less intense than the previous. He was leaning across me now, the hairs of his chest tickling my breasts, his lips found mine and we kissed so passionately it felt like we were biting.

We lay quietly for a long time after that, our passions spent, his cock still inside me, though not so hard now. I fell asleep and only woke hours later when he gently pulled out of me. He wrapped me tightly in his arms, one hand on my bottom pressing my sex against his. I felt my juices stir again and his cock grow hard against me. With his other hand he removed the blindfold and the gag and I saw that it was dark and he was near me and I kissed him. He gave a low sigh that was almost a groan and I laid my head against his shoulder and we slept.

Chapter 10
Lessons From the Red Devil

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

When I awoke the captain was asleep beside me and I did not move lest I wake him. Instead I studied his face and body in the early dawn light.

I loved his red hair, so unusual in color and texture. His beard always made my skin itch when we kissed. I examined his skin carefully and thoroughly until I knew I could identify every pore by touch in the dark.

His body was strong and lean and I caressed it gently, my eyes straying to his bulging cock peaking out from beneath the sheet. I gently pulled back the sheet and looked at his cock carefully. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, so tall and strong and majestic, its base planted in a bed of soft reddish curls. As I watched it I saw a tiny droplet of moisture ooze from the tip and I gasped. I looked at the captain and saw his eyes were open and he was watching me, his lips forming a small smile.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it!" I breathed. "I adore it. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

"It's not too big?"

"It's perfect! Any bigger and it should split me in two," I said with a smile. "Any smaller and there would be no challenge, no pain." The events of the previous evening flashed through my mind and tears came to my eyes when I thought of all the pain and pleasure I had experienced.

"You enjoy the pain, don't you," he whispered, his hand stroking my cheek and wiping away my tear.

"It is not the pain that I enjoy, exactly. It is the pleasure, the unbelievable desire of my sex. The pain prolongs the pleasure and makes it more intense. When there is enough pain the pain becomes a pleasure of its own, but only as a substitute for the pleasure. If there was no pleasure to come the pain would not be pleasant. Do you understand?"

"I think so," said the Red Devil. "The physical pain you receive is symbolic of the pain of your desire, your unsatisfied craving. The physical pain becomes a punishment of that craving, but in doing so, it only intensifies that craving."

"Yes!" I hissed excitedly. "Exactly! You understand things so well, my captain. May I ask you a question?"

His smiled was amused as he nodded, like a wise teacher acknowledging the foolish whims of a naive student.

"Do you receive pleasure when you punish me? If so, why?"

"Absolutely!" his smiled widened. "I feel pleasure in several ways. For one, I am aroused seeing you frantic with shame and desperate to please me. In your desperation you lose all pretense. You are the true you, your real self is exposed, and that is incredibly erotic. You have no shame at that point, only exposed suffering and naked desire. You are no longer attempting to conceal anything--parts of your body or your secret desires.

"For another, I feel power and control watching you suffer for me. My heart thrills when I watch you contemplating an order I give you. Will she obey or not? How strong is your will? How much do you love me?

"It is not mindless sadism, where I seek nothing but your pain, for I seek your will. I want to see you willingly choose suffering because you love me, because you want to please me. That is why the punishments always involve humiliation. If I simply wanted to inflict pain there are countless more effective ways than spanking you! But the spanking shames you, it tests your will much more thoroughly than simple pain. The pain is the physical test, the humiliation the mental. Without one or the other the punishment would not succeed. Only together do they provide the true test."

I watched the captain in amazement. His words were so clear, so discerning. I knew what he said was true. I had felt it myself, even during his fierce punishments. I was never truly afraid for my life, only afraid that I would be unable to accomplish what was ordered me to do.

"There are still other reasons for my pleasure," he continued. "Take yourself. You are becoming a new person. Your true self is being set free. You are finally able to express your sexuality. You are an extremely sexual person yet you have always been shamed into keeping that part of yourself hidden.

"But now your raw self is exposed. You are becoming more humble, less arrogant and conceited. Your true inner beauty is being exposed for the first time.

"Also," whispered the captain without a trace of shame, "I love to see your bottom bounce under the paddle, to watch your flesh change color. I love it when your tears drip onto your breasts and your nipples get so hard they seem like tiny pebbles between my fingers. I love the feel of your skin when it is hot and welted and so sensitive that my slightest touch will bring tears to your eyes. I love it when your body is mine to control. I love seeing the fear in your eyes, not knowing what I will demand of you next. Will you be able to please me? Will you be able to obey?

"Yet I'll tell you a secret: it is much easier to obey than to disobey. Disobedience requires much more courage. That does not make disobedience a better thing. No! Absolutely not! Obedience is what I demand of you, and if you disobey you know you'll be punished most severely."

My breathing was harsh and difficult during most of the captain's speech. My sex was throbbing fiercely at his words. I understood him so well it was as though we were one mind. How did he understand me so well? Where did he get such insights into my sexuality? Were all women the same or was I different?

But the captain was sitting up in the bed. As I watched him, drowsily, my mind elsewhere, I saw that he was retrieving the leather belt from his trousers. My heart stopped and I suddenly felt afraid as I remembered his promise from yesterday: each day was to begin with a good whipping.

My sex began to drip in anticipation but my heart sank and I wondered if I could bear yet another spanking. How bad would it be this time? How much courage would it take for me to sit still and take the punishment? And yet I knew this was to please him and so I vowed that I would take every blow with honor and grace.

But the captain had other ideas. He sat on the edge of the bed and made me stand before him, my buttocks near his face. My arms he positioned behind my back which arched my shoulders painfully and made my breasts jut out. He turned me so that I was sideways to him and made me bend over slightly, keeping my back straight.

The blows from the belt were loud and stung, though at first it was not as painful as the paddle. But soon my bottom was covered with tiny stings and growing welts and still the spanking continued, showing no signs of ending. The captain moved to my thighs, wrapping the thin belt around my legs. There was nothing I could do but cry.

From my position I could see the captain's hard cock sticking up between his legs and it tormented me, for my sex was starving for attention and all I was getting was a fierce whipping.

I tried to concentrate on the whipping to distract my mind from the cries from my sex. I tried to imagine what I looked like, my large round bottom, already quite red and punished from last night, being covered with tiny welts and sharp stings, each fresh blow briefly turning the reddened skin white. My creamy smooth thighs were now pink from the belt, and it seemed that each time the captain left my buttocks to work on them my buttocks hurt even worse.

In real terror I began to writhe and wiggle my bottom, desperately trying to get it away from the loud belt. The captain bade me to stand up straight and to begin running in place. The blows continued as I began to trot, my breathing fast and my breasts bouncing heavily against my chest.

It felt incredibly awkward running in place with my hands behind my back, but the captain was urging me to go faster, and he increased the tempo of his blows. Desperately I tried to run faster, lifting my knees high in the air the way he demanded, the belt burning my buttocks and thighs.

"Run, Lady Sarah! Run like the wind!" shouted the captain. "Why do you stall? If you do not run I shall chase you all over the ship whipping you while all the crew watches!"

The threat brought a new terror to my breast and I redoubled my efforts. My feet were pounding against the wooden floor and the slight swaying of the ship made it difficult for me to keep in place. But the belt was lashing my bottom mercilessly, now striking from below, lifting the cheeks of my buttocks with each blow. My bottom felt so heavy and swollen and it seemed to bounce irrationally as I jogged furiously.

But suddenly I felt a sense of relief flowed through me. My terror evaporated. Perhaps I was simply too exhausted to feel fear any longer. All I know is that I felt at peace. I felt I understood the cruel belt. I understood the harsh grunting and heavy breathing of the captain as he stood behind me and swung the belt tirelessly, his cock stiff and oozing. I understood that I was his love slave and there could be no mercy for me. I was not in control. It was not my choice to decide when I'd had enough. I was at the mercy of the Red Devil and so I strived to please him. I arched my back and offered him my buttocks. I lifted my knees even higher, and ignoring my painful breathing and the heavy weights of my bobbing breasts I struggled to run even faster, the belt striking the crack of my buttocks again and again.

And suddenly the belt was no longer there but I continued to run, my chest wet with tears as I sobbed, the backs of my legs and my buttocks blazing. The captain let me fall onto the bed face down and I wept into the pillow there. I felt completely drained and exhausted, every part of my body crying in pain. I could not keep track of all the emotions running through me. It seemed that there were none I could call my own.

Then the captain laid across me, his hard cock against my raw buttocks. He lifted himself and entered me from behind, pumping himself against my crimson bottom. In agony I lifted my hips toward him, his every touch painfully sweet. I felt him inside me but he wasn't touching me enough and though my sex dribbled juice everywhere I was not satisfied.

I began to pump backwards against him and I felt him murmur in surprise. I felt his cock touch my sensitive spot and the thrill that passed through me was so intense I thought I'd pass out. Again and again it passed, wave after wave. It was so sharp and poignant that I raised myself upwards off the bed onto my knees, the captain clinging to my back in desperation.

Then he exploded in me and pumped the last of his seed inside me. We both fell onto the bed, exhausted. I must have fallen asleep because when I heard a knock at the door the captain was gone and the cabin boy stood in the doorway.

"It's time for your bath before breakfast," he said with an eager smile. That young lad took to his new responsibility with remarkable enthusiasm, I thought with a smile.

11>

Chapter 11
The Pirates Attack A Vessel

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

I thought the bath would seem routine by now but I was beginning to learn that nothing was routine where I was concerned. I was much more sore this morning than ever before and the salt water of the bath made my raw welts scream.

The cabin boy, I noticed, was also becoming much more adept at his job, cleaning me efficiently and quickly, but with many superfluous touches against my breasts and sex. Though I'd just been remarkably satisfied by the captain I found that after the bath I was again quite aroused and slightly wet.

I saw the cabin boy too, was very aroused, and it seemed that he wanted to plug me himself, right there on the foredeck.

After the bath he stretched me out on the deck and massaged that wonderful ointment into my raw flesh. As he delicately worked on my buttocks he leaned across my legs and his leg brushed against mine. I felt his hard cock touch my thigh and I winced at the surge in my sex. I felt him pause and I knew he had felt it too and wondered what he thought.

"The captain would not approve," I whispered quietly.

He jerked himself back and knelt beside me as he worked. "Certainly not. I had no intention, your Ladyship. The captain would skin me alive and feed me to the sharks without a second thought."

"But you do want to, don't you?" I said with a smile.

"Uh, yes, of course. Who wouldn't? But the captain would not permit it."

Abruptly we were distracted by a loud cry from the forecastle. "Ship, ho!" came the shout again and everyone was scurrying wildly. I saw the Red Devil appear on deck almost instantly and begin shouting orders and calling questions to the lookout.

The pirate ship began to turn and head in the direction of the doomed ship. All around me the pirates were arming themselves. Swords, daggers, pistols, and knives were everywhere. The captain was quickly issuing instructions.

He looked our direction at one point and stopped mid-sentence. "You there, cabin boy. Get the Lady downstairs and lock her in my cabin. And stay with her on guard. I don't want her in the way. That ship looks rather well armed. We have a fight on our hands, gentlemen!"

This last was said to the men who all began cheering and chanting pirate songs of dubious virtue and coarse humor. The cabin boy quickly led me below to the captain's quarters. He locked the door behind us and opened the porthole.

"Saints, but she's gettin' close. Definitely well armed, too."

I stood and pushed the cabin boy aside and peered through the porthole. The ship was a large one, about the size of the Lady Agatha but much better armed. She had banks of cannons and I could see a row of frightened sailors on deck armed with rifles. It looked like it was going to be rough.

Suddenly I felt a hand touch my bottom. I froze. It was the cabin boy, of course. He looked up at him shyly. "Your body is so beautiful, your skin so fair. Your bottom is soft yet firm. I would love to kiss it. May I, just once?"

I was still kneeling on the bed, my head at the porthole. My emotions were confused. I knew I loved the captain, and this boy was just a boy. But he was rather cute, and his innocence amused me. My sex was wet and I could feel my desire growing. I was positive that little cock of his was hard.

I nodded my head quickly, and he placed his lips against my skin. Again and again he kissed my buttocks, very gently kissing them all over. His touch was so gentle after the captain's fury that I found myself in an agony of desire. I wished he would slap my skin rather than toy with me thus.

Outside I saw that we had changed course again. We were very close to the enemy ship now. I saw that it was a merchant ship, obviously well-loaded with trade goods. Our new course brought us along the back of the other vessel, shielding us from its guns. Our men began firing and soon all that could be heard was the sounds of battle.

I watched our men swinging on ropes onto the other ship. Others leaped across the short distance. The battle was in force now. Surely the captain would be far too occupied to know what was happening down here. My sex was hungry with desire.

I turned and grabbed the cabin boy. "Take off your clothes!" I hissed violently. "Now!" He obeyed without a word and I was very impressed. His body was young but mature, and he was hard and fit. I inspected his cock closely. He stood frozen as I bent forward.

His organ was long, perhaps as long as the captain's, but nowhere near as thick. I touched it and it writhed in my hand. Spurts of white liquid eased out of the tip and onto my hand.

Angry, I slapped the boy's face. "Don't come until it's time, you idiot!" I said harshly. "Don't you have any self control?"

Frightened, the boy began to cry. I slapped him again and he quieted down. His cock was rigid again but almost as soon as I lifted it he began to come again. I let it drop and sighed in frustration. The boy was just too virginal to be of much use to me. What he needed was to learn some self control.

An idea came to my mind as I spotted the captain's wooden paddle lying on the desk behind the boy. "Turn around and put your head on the bed and put your hands behind your head." He obeyed, his eyes frightened.

The boy was now bent over at the waist, his head on the bed leaving his buttocks high in the air. I played with the flesh of his bottom carefully, slowly, listening to the screams and shouts of battle outside. No one would hear.

The blows of the paddle blended seamlessly with the sounds of the gunshots. I paddled the boy hard, very hard. He groaned and cried desperately, but remained in position. Occasionally I reached around and played with his cock, touching it.

When I resumed the paddling it would relax him and he'd go limp. I kept this up for some time and then I began to paddle him while I played with his cock. It was evident that my touch drove him wild but the paddle subdued him. Together they made him moan in frustration.

I found I was enjoying paddling the boy. I pretended he was the cook or the first mate. I even briefly made believe he was the captain.

I liked seeing his round bottom turning pink under my blows, seeing his hands struggle to remain in place. I understood exactly what he felt and I relished in passing that feeling to someone else.

When I decided he'd had enough I turned him around and held his cock in my hand. This time he did not come, but I could see him desperately attempting to control his passion. "I see this is difficult for you, cabin boy," I said with as much contempt in my voice as I could muster. "That is good. You need the challenge of difficult tasks. Do you want to please me, boy?"

He nodded eagerly and I quickly offered him my sex. "Pleasure me, boy, and do it right or I'll paddle you until your cock falls off."

Desperately he buried his head in my sex and his tongue found my opening. He was no expert, but he was passable. I felt my juices stirring and dripping on his face. I knelt on the bed over his face so he could reach me better. He was stretched out flat before me. I took the paddle and began to stroke it against his hard cock.

Moaning, his tongue licked against me harder, more insistently. I encouraged him and leaned forward and took his cock in my hand. I could feel it swell beneath my grasp. Then, with him still licking my sex, I leaned further forward and took his cock in my mouth.

His cries were desperate ones as he began shoving his lips into me, his tongue frantically licking me. I sucked on his cock and lightly ran my tongue over the tip and it was too much for him. His seed burst into my mouth. He relaxed and sighed deeply.

"Don't stop!" I shouted and slapped his cock again and again. Desperately he renewed his attack on my starving sex. He touched my pleasure spot and I cried out in delight. And when I came he remained below me, my juices dripping into his mouth as I thrust myself onto him. My cries were loud as my body shuddered with pleasure.

But I sensed something was awry. I turned and froze and I felt the cabin boy sit up. Both of us were speechless with fright. Standing in the doorway, his fine clothes torn and splattered with blood, was the Red Devil. He was covered with grime and sweat and he looked haggard and tired.

He said nothing but only stared silently at the two of us. Never had he seen a sorrier sight, I am sure. I shrank back against the wall of the tiny room in terror, for surely his wrath would be fierce.

For what seemed an eternity he said nothing. Finally his mouth opened. His face was black with fury and filled with disdain, but all he said was, "We were victorious."

12>

Chapter 12
The Captain's Punishment

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

Never had I felt lower than when the captain looked at me at that moment. The rage seemed to leave him and his eyes were filled with sadness. He seemed overcome with despair. I knew I had hurt him and I was furious with myself. I had done a despicable, unforgivable thing. I felt dirty and vile.

With the desperation of the damned I threw myself at his feet and sobbed. I wept bitter tears and kissed his feet but he only stood there, ignoring me. I cried for a long time until it seemed I had no more tears.

I looked up at him, silently pleading. Why didn't he react? Why didn't he strike me? Where was his fierce paddle now? The thought of his punishments filled me with desire and I longed for the crack of his belt across my buttocks. I wished with all my being he would take his paddle and punish me harder than ever before. I knew I deserved it and I longed for the release of guilt that punishment brings.

But the Red Devil only pushed me away and left the room. I followed, crawling on my hands and knees, tears suddenly flowing again, begging him to punish me. I followed him to the main deck. Here he whispered for some time to the first mate who looked at me lustfully and occasionally grinned.

"Immediately, Captain!" the first mate barked and grasping my long hair he pulled me away from the captain. I screamed and struggled to stay but his grip was strong and I was forced to follow him.

He led me to the foredeck. Here he found some ropes and I knew again I was to be tied and it pleased me. Perhaps the captain would punish me after all. Every time I'd been tied before I'd been punished most diligently, so I had no reason to suspect otherwise. I cooperated willingly, almost eagerly.

But this time the first mate tied me in an unusual and most disagreeable position. He tied my hands straight above my head. Then he lifted my legs and tied my ankles to my wrists so that my face peered out between my legs and I was doubled over like a very narrow U. He forced my head down and tied my legs together behind my head, the stretched cord making it impossible for me to raise my head, my legs keeping me from turning it.

My sex was open and exposed directly beneath my blushing face. Then, to my horror, the cook appeared with his pottery jar of sweet honey. He dripped it over my chest and sex and I writhed in horror and despair.

The honey tickled as it dripped off my body and I felt stimulated in several places at once. But soon the honey began to dry and I could already begin to feel the tightening of the skin surrounding my lower lips. The sensation was so close to a tickle or an itch I could not help but moan in self-pity and beg for some kind of release.

I broke off my plea in mid-cry when the Red Devil appeared before me. He made a motion with his hand and I saw the cabin boy was being dragged forward. In horror I watched as the boy was stripped naked and bound face down across the width of a barrel. A rod was produced and passed to the Captain who began to cane the boy brutally.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Again and again the thin rod swished through the air and struck the writhing, howling boy. Deep red lines sprang up across his lily white bottom cheeks and as the beating continued, these lines began to swell and darken and soon they were purple and black.

But still the Captain caned the boy, moving down to the back of the boy's legs, whipping the stick across the child's tender thighs. I began to weep I felt so awful for the innocent boy. I moaned and cried out but everyone ignored me. The boy slumped forward in a stupor, and someone fetched a bucket of cold seawater to splash across his face. This revived him only slightly, and then he was out again. The second bucket was poured slowly across his bleeding buttocks and the sting of the salt water awoke the boy fully. As though he hadn't stopped, the Red Devil continued the caning.

I thought the caning was severe, but it was nothing like the treatment that came afterward. Fortunately the boy was scarcely conscious during the experience, and my only regret is that I was not unconscious too.

The men raped him. Faint in my understanding of such things as I am, I could not mistake their actions for anything else. One by one they came up and took him from behind. I saw the Captain watching but he did not participate. Only when he saw the boy was raw and bleeding continuously did he stop the men, promising those who were left unsatisfied other rewards.

"Toss him overboard," growled the captain to several of his men. I cried out for the Captain to have mercy but was ignored. Men untied the cabin boy and began dragging him to the edge of the ship. I wanted to retch I felt so angry. I tore at my bonds, the ropes cutting into my flesh but doing nothing to aid my escape.

"Please!" I begged, sobbing. "Please have mercy on the boy, Captain. He did nothing. He's just an innocent boy. It was all my doing, all my fault. The boy did nothing. You've beaten him. Let him live, I beg of you. Kill me instead, if you must, or beat me. But let the boy alone. He has been punished enough."

Something in my ineloquent words must have pricked the Red Devil's heart, for suddenly he shouted the men to stop just as they had lifted the boy over the edge and were prepared to drop him. The boy hung there, lifeless, his future on hold.

The Captain turned to me. "Do you mean what you say?"

"I meant every word, my Lord."

"You shall be punished, of course."

"Yes, Master. I deserve to be punished."

"It shall be done out of my sight. I cannot bear to look at you."

This news hit me like a blow. "Captain, please. Punish me yourself. If it is you I can take it. If you let the others torture me I shall die."

The Red Devil glared at me. "When you betrayed me you lost whatever right you had to be called mine. You are theirs, now." His hand gestured towards the foul-smelling horde of men gathering around us. I began to weep, knowing that he was right.

"Take him below, to his bed," said the Captain to the men holding the cabin boy. "And the woman is yours. Do not kill her or injure her permanently, but make her suffer as you will."

Then the Red Devil turned his back on me and walked away. I screamed and screamed but I might as well have been pleading to a stone wall. The Captain had abandoned me. I was alone and surrounded by many.

Thankfully I remember very little of my punishments, though my stomach is filled with bile at the thought of what I endured. The caning was first and the worst, because I was the most alert. They beat me while I was doubled, striking my buttocks and the backs of my legs countless times. My flesh was nothing but bloody welts and bruises, and I passed out several times and had to be revived.

The men seemed to think this spoiled their amusement for they wanted to toy with me for a long time. Someone suggested punishing my feet. He had lived in the Orient for a time and claimed that foot punishments were painful but could last for hours.

So the soles of my feet were caned. I was not removed from my doubled position, only lowered so my feet were at a level where they could be caned. At first the blows were only painful, then they became agonizing. I could have sworn my feet were nothing but bloody stumps of flesh but the men claimed they were only red and puffy and could take much more. This nearly overwhelmed me as I imagined an entire night of this torture.

When my feet were so swollen that the men feared permanent injury the cane was exchanged for a soft leather whip. They whipped my legs and buttocks, too, the sting of the leather across my welted flesh drawing screams from my hoarse throat. How long this lasted I do not know, for I was nearly out of my mind with pain.

Fresh pain brought me to a state of more alertness when the men began to whip the lips of my sex. At first I felt nothing but unbelievable suffering. I sweated profusely and howled until my voice gave out. I cared nothing for these evil men who only laughed at my distress and pain and enjoyed seeing me suffer so horribly.

After what felt like days the whipping of my sex became intermingled with pleasure. My sex grew damp and I could feel a swelling arousal coursing through my body. I began to anticipate the stroke of the whip, to arch my body to receive it, to nearly beg for its punishing, pleasurable stroke. The odd thing was that it never struck me quite where I wanted it, always landing near but never just right. If the men had planned it better they could not have tormented me in any worse fashion. To be so hungry and yet so unsatisfied was far more grotesque than the mundane pain.

After hours of beating I was released from my cramped and awkward position. My body screamed in agony as the blood began to flow freshly into my neglected limbs. I could not walk for my feet were far too sore. I had to be carried to the men.

Once I was stretched out upon the hard wooden deck the men began to attack me. Cocks were thrust forcefully into my mouth nearly choking me. Hands and members explored my sex, sometimes both at once, it seemed, widening me. The pain was intense but I could in no way resist. I was limp with exhaustion and fear, and perhaps I was resigned to my fate.

Countless cocks and fingers entered me from behind. As soon as one cock was satisfied it seemed two more took its place. I was raped over and over again in all my orifices. I was engulfed with the musky scent of males in heat. All around me were bodies, the naked bodies of men. I saw glimpses of arms and legs, magnificent chests, bellies, thighs, cocks, and buttocks. Everywhere I looked I saw bodies pressed against each other and against me. I prayed I was only dreaming, that this was nothing but a nightmare, but in my heart I knew it was true, it was real.

I thought of the Captain frequently during that night's tortures, wondering what he was doing, where he was, and if he was thinking of me. I wondered if he hated me because of what I'd done, if he'd ever forgive me. I wished to God I'd never even met that cabin boy, but then my heart went out to him, lying on his bunk with nothing but pain to comfort him.

It was a long, miserable night. I prayed I might die and at last have peace.

13>

Chapter 13
The Captain's Proposal

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

I awoke the next morning desperately wishing I had not. The pain of my body was worse than the night before, for now there was no new pain to distract me from the continuous agony of my body. Every pore of my skin hurt, every opening was throbbing and split. My flesh was raw, my muscles bruised and stiff, the soles of my feet aching and sore. I was a bloody wreck. I could not believe I was still alive.

My throat burned for moisture and finally, after croaking out plea after hoarse plea, I was given a few swallows of water by a passing crew member. Not enough to slack my thirst but just enough to keep my lips from cracking and make me more desperate for more liquid.

Just before noon the Captain appeared. He did not speak at first, but studied me, carefully examining every part of my body. He knelt before me, for I was on my knees and bound to the mast with my arms behind me, my sore flesh pricked by the rough wood. When released I obeyed his every command instantly, even when he asked me to spread my legs and show him my sex or when he had me spread my cheeks so he could study my anus. Nothing was too humiliating for me to do for my master. I prayed this would please him, but I could not tell.

He watched me for a long time, staring straight into my eyes, and I did everything in my power to appear humble and contrite. I wanted desperately to regain his favor, though if asked I could not say why, for by all the standards I knew he was a thief, a murderer, a kidnapper, a rapist. He was cruel and vain, a scoundrel to the core. My father would be appalled I was even civil with such a creature.

Yet he possessed a touch of kindness, an inner love that I saw was far more real and practical than my own. He was physically handsome and a fierce warrior. I knew he would fight to his dying breath to protect his men, and yet at the same time, if the situation warranted it, he would not hesitate to plunge his dagger into the back of his first mate if he suspected the man was plotting against him. He was a strange paradox, this captain.

"I do not know what to do with you, my Lady," he said softly, his voice hard but filled with a slight trace of deep emotion. He was in pain. I could see it in his eyes.

"You have betrayed me, made me a fool in front of my men, and obviously deserve nothing but torture and death. Yet I do not wish to kill you. Your beauty is entrancing, your acceptance and understanding of punishment extremely mature for one so young. I would love to make you mine, to make you, in effect, my wife, though such laws are meaningless out here in the deep ocean."

"Please, sir," I cried out hoarsely. "Make me yours. I shall be faithful to you always. I desire nothing but to make you happy."

The Red Devil nodded slowly, as though he had expected what I was to say. "Yes," he whispered. "You wish to escape from these men." I shook my head frantically but he did not stop speaking. "Let me tell you: if you become mine your punishments of last night will not seem so severe. I will beat you thoroughly, filling you to overflowing with pain. I will do this for no other reason than you are mine, and it would give me pleasure to humble you. And if you are mine you will accept _whatever_ I dictate, no matter how distasteful, simply because you are mine and must obey."

Awe flooded my body. Thinking of a lifetime of fearful beatings from the Captain did not change my resolve but strengthened it--I wanted nothing more than to please him, and if my suffering gave him pleasure than I would suffer as much as he desired. I knelt before him and kissed the floor and moaned. "I am yours, Master," I whispered. "Please do not reject me."

"There is a test," he said suddenly, and a chill passed through my body. Was not last night proof enough of my loyalty? And yet that was simply punishment, torture I had no control over. The test, naturally, must be accepted willingly.

"Yes, my Lord. Whatever you command."

"Will you consent to wear my mark?" He snapped his fingers at a nearby pirate who raced over to the Captain immediately. The Captain had him turn and bare his back and I saw on his shoulder the image of a large devil set within a pirate flag. The image had been burned into the man's flesh with a hot iron. Fear coursed through my body but I did not hesitate.

"I will accept your mark with eagerness, my Lord."

He nodded. "It shall not be done immediately. You need time to heal and time to think. Perhaps you will change your mind. If so, there is always the sea." His arm waved to the swelling ocean around us. "It is a good way to go, full of dignity," he whispered. "There is no shame."

But my heart was hard. I did not wish to die. Where was the challenge in death? Life, strange, mysterious life held all the attraction to me. I was young, healthy, and though I knew I would spend the rest of my life seeking to understand my bizarre desires, I knew I loved the man they called the Red Devil.

14>

Chapter 14
Restitution

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

The branding was set to take place in five days. I was given no duties during this time, but instructed to eat and rest, and to bathe frequently in salt water and care for my body so that I would be strong and ready for the ceremony. This I did with an eagerness that surprised even me, and I looked forward to the moment when I could show the Captain how much I loved him.

I had accepted my state now. I no longer shielded by mind from uttering the phrase. I loved him. I saw it clearly now, though I could no more explain it than I could explain the sun. It was there, a simple fact. That was all that mattered.

Sometime during the second day of my healing I got to see the cabin boy. He was pitiful sight, thin and emasculated, his demeanor dull and quiet. He did not smile at me but only shrugged when I spoke to him and asked him how he fared. Only later, from a crew member, did I learn the truth. The boy had been given life, but the Captain had taken away his manhood. They had castrated him. No more would he be a threat to the Captain's pride.

At first I was angry, then saddened. Eventually I came to see the justice in the act, though it grieved me terribly. But I had begun to accept the fact I was not among civilized men. A pirate's life is not a pleasant one. It is hard, brutal work, always dangerous, always on the run. There is no safe port for a pirate vessel, save for deserted islands. Hunted by man and nature, he is friends with no one, enemies to all.

Yet there is order within pirate society, and an odd bond not found among ordinary men. Cutthroats these men are--they'd kill each other as easily and with as little conscious as they'd kill an innocent child--yet they are brothers, perfectly accepting of each others' faults and foibles. They are honest men. They do not try to hide their devious behavior behind the veneer of civilization. From what I learned of my father after his passing he was little better than these men, treating his workers cruelly and cheating the natives he traded with. His techniques were as ruthless and underhanded as those of the pirates, but while the pirates worked openly in the face of God and man, my father did his evil in secret, and lived with the admiration and respect of his fellow human beings.

When the time came for my test I was ready. My skin had almost completely healed, though it was still soft and very tender. I felt strong, however, and ready to face whatever the Captain had in store for me. Though I was nervous I felt elated at being given a chance to regain the Captain's favor.

The morning of the ordeal the ship was anchored in the cove of a small island. It was a peaceful place, full of wildlife and greenery, and undiscovered by most men. It was said the Captain had buried treasure there, though no one knew where.

All of the sailors gathered around on the main deck and a brazier was brought forth along with a stout branding iron. In spite of my resolve I shivered as I saw the hot coals begin to heat the iron.

"No restraints," the Captain ordered. "She does this willingly."

I shuddered. How could I possibly not resist this pain? Surely I should jerk or my body react on its own. It is not natural for a person to accept great pain without protest or resistance. But this, I was told by the Captain, was what separated Man from the Beasts.

"Man can accept any amount of suffering if he wills it," he told me. "He is rational and understands the nature of the sacrifice he makes. The Beast, on the other hand, knows nothing of the future and suffers blindly, for no purpose, and will not choose suffering without pressure."

Here the Captain paused and I saw him lift the iron which was hot and steaming. "Lady Sarah," he cried out boldly. "Will you accept my mark?"

I bowed low. I was kneeling across a small wooden bench and I closed my eyes as the Captain approached. "Yes, my Lord," I said firmly, glancing up at him.

He brought the iron near my left side and I could feel its heat singing my flesh. Already my body cringed and threatened to pull away. I resisted. Someone thrust a piece of leather between my teeth and I bit onto it gratefully, tears already blurring my vision.

Then it touched me. It was like the heavens themselves had opened. My mind whirled and the sky became filled with bizarre images. I heard a distant screaming that was so utterly forlorn it filled me with despair. "Why is she so sad?" I thought to myself. "This should be a happy occasion."

Then I realized it was I who was screaming, and I saw the Captain was standing before me with the brand in his hand. The stench of burnt flesh filled the air. It terrified me. I could feel very little as the side of my left buttock was numb.

"Please, my Lord," I whispered, pushing the leather bit to one side of my mouth. "The other one."

"In time," he said with a smile, and I saw love in his eyes. He was pleased with me!

The brand was put back into the fire and time passed slowly. I was aware of very little, my mind overwhelmed by my experience. When the brand was hot the Captain came to my right side. This time I feared it even more than before, yet I was calm.

"Do you accept my mark?" asked the Red Devil, his voice thick with emotion, reminding me of the stakes we were dealing with.

"Unequivocally!" I shouted. The brand pressed against me, the sizzling hiss chilling my soul. I roared in agony and I felt the leather in my mouth split as I bit it into pieces. I spat them out in a fury as I sobbed and trembled. Shudders went through my body but somehow I remained still for the eternity it took for the brand to sear into place.

The side of my right buttock burned as the brand was removed, the sudden rush of cold air numbing my cheek instantly. My body jerked with a spasm. It was out of control. I felt like vomiting and urinating at the same time, and then I became confused as to which was which. My stomach churned and flipped.

Inexplicably, only my mind remained calm. I stood with tears rushing down my face and turned to the Red Devil. I bowed low, as gracefully as I could manage, and said, "I love you, Master."

The Red Devil smiled at me, and it was the smile of a friend. Tears glistened in his eyes. "You are mine," he whispered hoarsely, scarcely able to speak he was so overcome. "You are all mine.

Chapter 15
Epilogue

(****, M/F, Edgy, slavery, torture, edg)

Over 27,000 words long, this novella is the exciting tale of a young woman kidnapped by pirates who falls in love with the cruel, mysterious pirate captain. (Approximately 27,543 words. Originally published 1996-06.)

Today I live on the island. The Captain visits regularly, and sometimes he even stays for a few weeks while the pirates go off on their own under the command of the first mate. It is a strange arrangement. Even the Captain thinks so. None of his men had ever heard of a pirate taking a wife.

I rarely travel with the ship any more. I have three children and soon shall have a fourth. I am very happy. Robb, the cabin boy, stays on the island and assists me. The Captain has no worries about the loyalty of either of us. He has forgiven us both and the boy has forgiven me, and I him, though I cannot say what there was that I forgive him, but he insisted on it. He has grown into a fine man, though he is reclusive and lives by himself in a small cabin he built on the opposite side of the island. He does not talk much any more, though he seems content. I can no longer worry myself about him. What happened was done and is in the past. We must move on.

My relationship with the pirate known as the Red Devil is still something of a mystery to me. He himself cannot explain it. "Opposites attract," he says and shrugs, as though that is explanation enough. I think there must be more to it than that, but I cannot fathom how he makes me feel. With him I am complete, satisfied, whole. When he punishes me it is with love and I feel released and am able to be true to my soul, passionate and open, hiding nothing.

He has conquered me utterly. I cannot imagine how I could have withstood my dull life in London's upper circles, smiling at people I hated and putting on airs as though I was better than anyone else.

Here I run naked on the beach and swim with my children. I teach them to handle swords and pistols, to hunt the tasty wild boar so plentiful on this island, to grow delicious vegetables and exotic legumes. We eat better than most kings, and though we must work hard to survive and earn our food, we enjoy the rewards of our labors far more than I ever enjoyed any meal prepared by servants and placed before me when I was a spoiled child.

And at night, among the quiet lull of the waves on the beach and the gentle sounds of the night animals, my husband and I make passionate love. It is nothing like civilized love I am proud to say. It is wild and uncontrolled, unplanned, unrehearsed, untamed. There is nothing delicate about it. We tear up the beach with our insane lust, groping and fondling and roaring like animals. It is often painful, always pleasurable, and indescribably intense. Hours pass like minutes and we return to consciousness surprised at where we are and astonished at our scratched and bruised bodies.

There is nothing like it on earth, and I count the minutes when the Captain is away. He spends more and more time here on the island, and I suspect he will soon retire. Though his fellow pirates scoff and jeer at him "becoming soft" they dare not do it in his presence--and I know that his pride grows less and less important to him every day, and it is his children that he values most highly, and his beloved wife.

The End

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