The Isle of Women

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

Time passed. She lost track of the days as they lengthened into weeks, but she could feel that they were getting warmer. She asked the captain about their course. It lay down the coast of Africa, around the Cape and up into the Indian Ocean. Thence they crossed the vast expanse of empty sea before reaching Australia’s western shore. They faced a further long journey around Australia’s southern coast before reaching Sydney. She resolved that she must somehow get word to Lawrence, so that he could keep his spirits up. She imagined him confined in the dank, dark hold, half-starved, beaten perhaps. She did not dare to think about the sort of thing depraved men might do when herded together. Lawrence was a pretty boy; he could not hope to escape the notice of older, stronger men.

Once, while the captain was f*****g her from behind, she looked towards the cabin door, which he had in mistake left slightly ajar. Through the crack she could see two eyes staring, the eyes of the cabin boy. When the boy saw that he was spotted, he hurriedly disappeared. But there was no sign that the boy had divulged the secret of her presence. Clearly he went in mortal terror of his master. She had tried again to persuade the captain to let her send a message, but he had refused. She wondered if perhaps she could persuade the cabin boy to take a note. But a boy of that age could scarcely be seduced in the manner in which she had learned to manipulate grown men. What other inducements did she have? She decided to throw herself on the mercy of the cabin boy and simply appeal to him for help. She explained to him what she wanted, that he should simply take a note with Lawrence’s name on it.

The boy looked at her slyly. “What will you give me, miss?”

“I have no money.” It was true she still had some jewels left, but these might be needed for a more desperate occasion. “What can I offer you?”

The boy thought for a moment. “Some of the sailors told me that girls don’t have the thing that boys have. They just have a hole. Show me if it’s true.”

Augusta was taken aback at the depravity of one so young. “For shame,” she said, “you ought not to be thinking about such matters at your age.”

“That’s what I want to see,” he said stubbornly. “It won’t cost you nothing, so let me see it.”

Augusta turned away. “Get out,” she said. “You are a bad boy.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, closing the door behind him. But later she got to thinking. Perhaps if Lawrence heard nothing he would subside into despair. She knew the dangers of that, the loss of hope; she must give him a reason to survive. The next time she was alone with the boy she handed him a note she had written, assuring Lawrence of her presence and that she would never abandon him. She wrote his name clearly on the front.

“Make sure you find the right man,” she said. “He’s young, a pretty boy with dark hair and blue eyes. When you give him the note, ask him to tell you what is my middle name. That way I’ll know you found him.”

She stood in front of the boy and slowly pulled down the trousers she still wore. Underneath she was naked.

“I can’t see properly,” said the cabin boy. “All I can see is hairs.”

Augusta blushed, but she knew had no choice. She took the trousers right off, sat in a chair and splayed her legs wide apart. The boy stared, fascinated.

“Damn, nothing there but a hole,” he said in astonishment. “It’s true.”

Augusta stood up and put her trousers back on.

“But you’re just the same at the back, aren’t you?” the boy demanded. “A bum just like mine?”

“Of course,” Augusta snapped. “Now that’s enough!”

Later than day the cabin boy was back. He said he had delivered the note. “What did he say?” Augusta demanded.

“He says he loves you,” the boy said, and made a face, as if he didn’t care to be delivering such sentimental stuff.

“And what is my second name?”

“He said it was Prudence.”

“Good boy!” she exclaimed.

“So can I have another look now?”

“If you don’t get out of here I’ll box your ears, you dirty little boy!” she said.

Now that Lawrence knew she was with him, Augusta began to relax a little. There was nothing to do but keep the captain happy until at long last they would arrive in Sydney. That night she asked him where they were. She was naked on the captain’s lap and he was fingering her. For once he was gentle and seemed to be in a good mood.

“Somewhere in the Indian Ocean,” he said. “About a quarter way across. We are making for Reunion, to take on water and some fresh food. I’m sick of biscuits and salt pork.”

So too was Augusta. It would be tempting to try to go ashore, but probably the risk would be too great.

“On your knees now, my lovely,” the captain said. “And suck me good or else I’ll spank that pert little bottom of yours.”

The captain had spanked her several times already. The first time she was shocked, even outraged, but though she struggled he persisted, saying it was good for girls to get a spanking now and then. “It keeps them honest,” he said. She didn’t know what he meant by that. He had hard, horny hands which stung her tender flesh. Afterwards, when he had f****d her and sent her to bed, she lay awake thinking about what he had done. She felt real anger; such insolence, such naked flaunting of his power over her, both the power that her desperate situation had given him, and the sheer physical power of a man over a woman. The more she thought about it, the more her anger mounted. She thought that if at that moment she had a knife and him at her mercy, she would have killed him.

She thought about all the men she knew. Her father, so arrogant and unfeeling; a tutor she had once had, who had beaten the palms of her hands with a wooden ruler because she had not learned her Latin verbs properly; a stable boy who had once stolen a kiss when saddling her horse. At that moment she reached down between her legs, as was her habit in bed. Much to her surprise, she was dripping wet. Was it just the captain’s semen running out of her? She suspected not. But how could that be, to get aroused by such an insolent gesture as spanking her? She quickly found that her clit was swollen too. She blushed for shame, to think that her body was betraying her, that the outrage she felt in her mind towards men should be counteracted by the unmistakable signs of desire. What is the matter with me, she asked herself, that I can be aroused by such a brute? She took her hand away and turned over and wept tears of impotent resentment, that she could do nothing to defend herself. At least she would not give way to the urgent promptings of the flesh. And she vowed that she would be avenged on the captain, one day, somehow. Then she thought of Lawrence. He was a gentle soul, had nothing but respect for her, would never do such a thing to her.

The next time the captain spanked her she was even more outraged. But again there was this treachery of her body, the wetness between her legs, even a tingling. Shame upon me, she thought, that I should have such a physical response to a man as unclean in his personal habits as he was uncouth in his performance of the s****l act. No man shall ever do this again, she vowed. She despised herself for her weakness, even though she told herself that none of it was her fault, that she was doing it all for the love of Lawrence, a boy who deserved her love.

At last the ship arrived at Reunion. It was a small tropical island which she observed from a porthole, unwilling to take the chance of going ashore, even had the captain allowed it. But she did get pleasure from a basket of exotic fruits, pineapples, mangoes, paw-paw. Later that afternoon something happened she was wholly unprepared for. She was lying in her cubbyhole, half asleep, when she heard the captain approaching. She waited for his key in the lock, resigned to the possibility that some s****l service would shortly be demanded. But peering through a gap in her curtain she saw that the captain was accompanied by a native girl, young, with long black hair and a soft brown skin. She was very pretty, and she was naked above the waist, with flowers in her hair and a jewel in her navel. Augusta stared at such a creature, so exotic and alluring.

The captain’s intentions towards her were plain enough. He set the girl down upon his bunk and began to loosen his clothing. Augusta watched transfixed as he stripped down to his shirt. The girl seemed in no way reluctant to perform. Perhaps she hoped for some reward, or perhaps she was simply full of youthful lust and curiosity. She went down on her knees before him and without hesitation took him in her mouth. Augusta could not take her eyes away as the girl began to suck the captain with every appearance of skill and enthusiasm. After a while she got to her feet and pushed the captain back on the bunk, letting fall to the floor the scrap of cloth she wore around her hips, then straddled him. Augusta continued to watch, wide-eyed. She had never imagined a girl might do such a thing, get on top. True, she had often taken the initiative in respect of when or where she and Lawrence made love, but he had always occupied the dominant position physically. This girl relished the control her position gave her, lowering her hips to impale herself on the captain’s c**k, then slowly rocking backwards and forwards, her hand pushed under her belly, her fingers digging deep between her legs to extract the maximum pleasure.

Augusta had always relied on self-stimulation after the act of intercourse was over, in order to get her satisfaction. Even being f****d by Lawrence, who was both attentive and supremely the object of her desire up till now, was not enough to make her come. She had assumed that this was normal, and that to wait until the man had taken his pleasure was the way things should be. But this girl had no thought of deference, of waiting her turn. On the contrary, as Augusta watched, she saw the girl’s hips begin to shake and she let out a moan. There was no doubt she had reach her climax. And yet, even when it seemed to be completed, she apparently wanted more. Her movement, thrusting her pelvis forward, became faster, frenzied almost, and she came again.

Meanwhile the captain was clearly enjoying this, somewhat to Augusta’s surprise. She might have supposed he would demand to take the initiative; instead, he lay back, allowing the girl to indulge herself while he reached up and squeezed her small but firm breasts and twisted her long, dark-brown n*****s. Augusta was fascinated by the girl’s appearance. In polite society in England she would not have been considered a beauty. She had a snub nose, a mouth that was too wide and sensual, she wasn’t tall enough to be elegant, and her body was so slim as to be almost skinny. As she finally got off the captain, standing by the bed with her back to Augusta, her tight little ass looked scarcely like a woman’s at all, more like a boy’s. But Augusta was drawn to it. She had never before seen another woman naked, nor had she been aware of desire for another woman’s body, but she longed to touch her smooth dark skin, with its delicate sheen of oil, the scent of which drifted into Augusta’s nostrils. She longed to fasten her lips around those enticing n*****s. And, though the thought made her blush, she wanted to bury her head between the girl’s legs and taste her.

Augusta continued to watch. Still standing by the bed, the girl bent over and began to suck the captain’s c**k again. In doing so she exposed herself to Augusta, who could see the delicate coral-pink lips of her cunt nestling inside a clump of curly black hair. Augusta could also see the girl’s anus, the little brown mouth, pursed and tight. She blushed again at the thought of what she would like to do with it. It didn’t take the girl long to make the captain come. She stood up, her mouth closed, evidently full of the captain’s semen, which she then spat into the basin. The s*x act was now complete, it appeared. The girl began to make signs indicating that the captain should give her things. Soon he hustled her, still naked, out of his cabin, doubtless afraid she might steal something.