Pirated Love (2 page)

“Do you yield?” a very effeminate voice sternly asked.

The captain spat at her and she looked at the spittle that hit the deck of the captured ship.  Her eyes narrowed ominously and with a little nod of her head the two men who held the captain began to strip him despite his protests and then proceeded to throw him into the ocean over the edge of his ship.

“Well, lookee what we have here,” a voice spoke close to Claire’s ear and she turned to see a disgusting man with brown, fuzzy teeth leering at her as he reached for her.  In the clash of the fight, she and Sir Edmund had been overlooked and now the pirates were systematically looking for anyone hiding or for hidden loot, and had discovered her.  He grabbed her away from Sir Edmund easily, who curiously did not protest.  “Hey, boys, looks like we gets some fun!” he grinned and laughed evilly as several men began to pinch, grab, and feel up the protesting woman.

“No,
no
, NO!” she screeched, as they began to tear at her clothes and bear her down to the deck of the ship.  She saw one of the men lower his trousers and she saw a pole of white flesh swelling from it.  She looked away helplessly as she tried to kick and struggle, but was held down easily by the lustful men who pulled her skirts up and ripped off her drawers, touching her where no one had ever touched, not even she, other than through a washcloth.  She screamed, which seemed to egg on the men.  Glancing over at her fiancé who had sworn to defend her, she saw him easily being held by two men, but also watching avidly.  She screamed loud and long as the man kneeled between her spread legs.

“Halt!” the feminine voice commanded.

The man grabbed her hips as he went to thrust between her legs.

A sword tip slashed down in front of his lust-filled eyes and stopped just short of his erect cock.  He froze in the act of raping the young woman and looked up at the angry green eyes of his captain.  Her intent was clear, either he halted his act or she would slice off his manhood.  Knowing her as he did, he shrunk before all their eyes and quickly tucked it away, standing up with his head hung low.  She raised his chin with her sword tip.

“Can you listen, Johann?” she asked, ominously.

“Sorry, Captain, I’s caught up.  She is a prize,” he defended himself weakly.

She glanced down on the deck at the sprawled body of the young woman she had just saved from being ravished.  The blouse of her gown was torn open and her breasts were on view to all the lustful looks of her men and the crew of the other ship who could see from their own kneeling positions.  She admired the view herself for a moment.  “So she is, but she is more valuable to us as a hostage.  Are you and I going to have problems over this, Johann?” she asked, in a cultured voice that brooked no argument.

“No, ma’am, er, sir,” he stuttered, knowing she would not hesitate to kill him where he stood.

She smiled as she lowered the razor-sharp sword and ordered, “Cover her up!”  Looking around at the sailors of the captured ship, she spied the still struggling Sir Edmund who was swearing and protesting over his capture.

“I am Sir Edmund Fitzhugh!  You have no right...!” he was shouting.

“They will not understand you,” she yelled over him in a perfect English accent and he subsided, relieved to have someone who might finally understand him as the two dirty men had not answered in English.  Instead they spoke some gibberish he had no hope of understanding as he struggled to be released from them and they swore at him in their own languages.

“Finally!  I DEMAND that you release me immediately.  I am Sir Edmund...” he began, pompously, but trailed off as she swiftly brought her sword up to his unprotected throat to get his full attention.

“You are NOTHING now.  I am in charge here and you are at my mercy.  If I choose to sell you as a slave or drown you here, it is MY choice and not your own.  So do be good enough to be quiet while I decide what to do with you.”  She turned away from the disgusting man whose eyes were nearly popping out of his sockets at the sword.

“Strip the ship,” she ordered, in several different languages.  It was obvious she knew them too, as she effortlessly gave the order.

Each of the captured sailors was given the opportunity to tell what they knew about their own ship as the pirates searched them for weapons and valuables.  Many of the pirates knew many different languages, or at least a smattering, so they could ask their English prisoners questions.  The pirates began to take their plunder across to their own ship.  They used the labor of their captives to bring up the booty from the hold.  Anyone who resisted was stripped and thrown immediately into the water as an example to any who would not work.  They were watched to see that they did not try to again get on board or on the pirates’ own ship.  It is a helpless man who is naked and floating in the ocean, attempting to keep afloat or, as a couple of the men were, holding on to the ship as best they could at the water line, waiting for the decision of the pirate captain and their fate.  They did not hold out much hope; the captain was not known for her generosity to captives if she even bothered to take any of them.

“Take her to my cabin,” she ordered one of the men, indicating Claire who was now wrapped and shivering in a blanket.   He nodded as he solicitously helped the woman up.

“Is that Black Betty?” Claire asked, as they made their way to the larger ship.

The man nodded as he pushed his way past other pirates and men working to transfer booty and supplies as the smaller ship was slowly stripped of all usable rigging, supplies, and cargo.

He showed her to a luxuriously furnished apartment with a large set of windows and an actual bed instead of the normal bunks that were found on a ship.  This bed, Claire could see, was bolted to the floor as any furniture on a ship normally was to prevent it becoming a nuisance in bad weather.  Men had been known to be crushed from moving cargo or gear caused by the battering that waves gave a ship.  “If I were you, mademoiselle,” he began, in a French accent.  “I would do
ANYTHING
the capitan asks of you.”  He locked her inside and Claire shivered in a chair, refusing to lie on the bed, not knowing her fate.  The little she had gleaned from what the captain had said was that she was valuable and they would be using her as a hostage.  She wondered if her father would pay?  She looked around the cabin at the shelves of books with a thin rail set up on the ledges to keep the books from falling off them.  There were several cabinets and she wondered if they contained clothing or other personal items, but she did not explore.  There was a large table bolted to the floor in the middle of the room with an odd little lip of wood around the edge and she realized this was so the dishes would not slide off onto the floor when they ate meals.  A bench stood bolted to the floor on each side of the table and two chairs, one on each end, both elegantly appointed and plush.  There were odd little hooks above head level in the walls and in the ceiling rafters, and she wondered at these as she glanced around.

She finally stopped shivering enough that she stood up to look out the large window along the back of the apartment.  She could look out over the smaller ship as the pirate ship had shifted forward a little in the current.  She could clearly see the men who were moving cargo and booty to the pirate ship.  The sailors were working to save their own lives for they knew the pirates would not hesitate to kill anyone reluctant to work.  She could see where Edmund had been stripped down naked in front of the pirate captain.  His white body was even uglier than his face.  It was scrawny and the black hairs covered most of it, almost as a pelt to make up for the sparse facial hair.  The little worm between his legs caught her attention with all his bragging.  This was going to enthrall her?  As little as she knew about men, after seeing the horrible thing that was the pirate’s manhood she instinctively knew that this little insipid thing would have been disappointing despite his boasts.  She watched as the captain struck the man with her own fists repeatedly in the jaw, using both hands on each side of his face, then one to his stomach.  As he bent over, she kneed him swiftly in the face causing his nose to spurt blood.  With a flick of her head, she indicated to throw him overboard.  Wiping her hands as though she had dirtied them, she looked around and then suddenly up, catching Claire looking down on the scene, before smiling insolently and turning deliberately away.

The transfer of their booty was achieved in a relatively short time.  The pirates were thorough and took nothing that did not have value.  There was no point in hauling damaged goods or something with weight that would give them no profit.  They stripped sails, took the extras, even fittings and hardware.  The captain and her pirate crew left the long-boats for the crew of the British ship before going across to their own ship and unhooking the grappling hooks.  The sailors who had cooperated were left aboard to decide the fate of those floating in the ocean as the pirate ship sailed away.  Left with no sails, the ship was useless and they got out the long boats to put in the water.  The pirate captain had left them three day’s rations and they were going to try to row to the nearest populated islands.

* * * * *

It was quite dark when Claire heard the door unlock and open.  “Put it there.” She heard the curiously feminine voice of the captain and turned over from where she lay on the couch beside the window to see a pirate bring in a tray of food.  Its aroma preceded it and Claire’s stomach rumbled.  It smelled delicious, whatever it was.  The pirate left almost immediately, bowing slightly to the captain who looked around and spotted Claire on the couch.  Going to some of the lamps, she produced a sulfur match and lighted them one by one to bring light to the room.  She walked over to Claire.

“What is your name?” she asked in her upper crust British accent, which amazed Claire.

“Claire Von Hagen, but my family and friends call me Claire,” she said quietly, wondering what would happen now.

“Well, Lady Von Hagen, your fiancé was most forthcoming with information,” the captain told her, but did not continue telling with what information.  “Come.  Eat.  I am sure you want to know what I have in mind for you,” she offered, as her hand indicated the food on the table and her other hand was held out to help her rise from the settee.  Claire appreciated the courtesy, but found it odd that a woman dressed as a man would offer it.

They sat down to a delicious stew of meat and vegetables, wholesome fare for a ship, with biscuits that were flaky and bug-free and apparently fairly fresh.  Claire had not eaten this well since she had boarded her own ship and she ate heartily, the food wonderful and filling.  The captain was amused as she watched her captive eat with gusto, but then she ate just as much.  Claire noted the captain was fastidious, using a napkin on her lap, her pinky finger outstretched as she sipped at tea or wine, unconsciously feminine in her eating habits.  Claire herself still had the blanket wrapped around her torn dress and felt outclassed at this table despite the captain being dressed in men’s clothing.

The captain allowed her to fill her belly before talking to her.  “Now, we will not be getting anywhere near your father’s island to demand a ransom.  This could take months, depending on your father,” she explained.  “You have a choice though.”

Claire listened appreciatively at the civil tone of the captain.  She was being treated with respect and courtesy and had nothing to prepare her for what the captain further told her.

“You can service my crew as the only female available to them, or you can service me for the duration of your stay.”  She waited for this to sink in to her captive’s mind.

Claire’s eyes opened wide making her look like a doe as the meaning of the words penetrated her mind.  The warm and delicious food had lulled her into a state where she had thought she would be safe and protected until her ransom was paid.  The thought of men raping her over and over again certainly did not appeal.  She had thought the captain, being a woman, she would be safe from any physical harm.  She had no idea what two women did together; she could not begin to understand that part of the captain’s offer.  “Service you?” she asked, hesitantly, as though to clarify the proposition.

The captain smiled.  It made her striking face beautiful.  Her red hair was tied back now, but it still flowed down her back and her darkly tanned features looked very attractive in the lamp light.  “Aye, I am sure you do not know what that entails, but I assure you I enjoy both men and women’s bodies, and you will enjoy my attentions more than you will my crew’s,” she guaranteed her.

“I can take care of your apartment for you...?” she began, hoping against sinking hope that the woman did not mean what she was implying.  She remembered the warning she had received from the pirate earlier, to do whatever the captain demanded.

The captain laughed.  “Nay, I assure you, I do not mean that.  I mean you will have sexual relations with me,” she said properly, in her upper crust tones.  There was a hint of another accent though, not completely British.

There it was, spelled out for Claire to understand.  She had a choice of being raped repeatedly by the crew-they would not kill her, she knew, because of the ransom-or succumbing to the captain.  She had heard that sailor crews were notoriously dirty and unclean and had diseases.  She had no idea of what she could easily catch, but having relations with another female?  It was a sin, was it not?  She thought hard, back to the teachings of her church, and she was sure it was a sin to sleep with someone of the same gender.  Sleeping with the crew, even one of them, would dirty her, ruin her in the eyes of the church, her fiancé, and her father.  She shuddered at the thought of one of them, much less the many, touching her.  The alternative was death and she had no chance of dying, that she could tell; she was too valuable.  She reluctantly nodded, numbly, resignedly, realizing her fate was not her own, and feeling helpless again.