Kidnapped by Pirates

Chapter One-3

“I’ll see what I can find,” the captain said. After a moment he passed her a pair of black pumps, which again were a good fit. When she emerged she couldn’t resist doing a little spin to show off her clothes.

“I suppose I had better not ask how you acquired such things,” she said.

“We captured a ship on which a very grand lady was sailing. She had ten trunks of finery, most of which we tossed into the sea. I kept a few things, just in case.”

Caroline wanted to ask what had happened to the lady, but she feared the worst. Best not to know. The captain stepped outside and she heard him speaking to one of the crew. A moment later a man came in with a bottle of wine, which he opened and set on the table. The table had already been laid, with crisp linen and silverware. The captain poured her a glass of wine, and one for himself. Caroline sipped. The man came back with lamb chops and potatoes and greens. Caroline suddenly felt ravenously hungry, and fell on the food.

“I have heard one of the girls address you as Lady Caroline,” said the captain.

“I don’t think a title is much use now, is it?” Caroline replied. “What is your name, anyway?”

“Edmund,” he replied.

“Tell me,” she said, ‘you have the air of having once been a gentleman. How do you find yourself a pirate?”

He smiled. “Once I was an officer in His Majesty’s navy, second in command of a ship of the line. The captain was a brute. Eventually I could not bear his insolence to me and his brutality to the men. I struck him. After a court martial I was cashiered out of the service. I fell in with a rough crowd and, feeling I had cut my ties with society, but having still a liking for the sea, I found myself on a pirate ship.”

“So what now is to happen to us?” Caroline demanded, seizing the bull by the horns.

“Do you really wish to know?”

“Yes.”

“You will be taken to Algiers. There I shall place you with a dealer and you will be sold in the slave market.”

“That sounds like the proverbial fate worse than death.”

“Many survive it,” the captain said thoughtfully. “Some even thrive. And it may be that your friends at home will find a ransom for you.”

“And what of my companions?” Caroline said. “They are but poor girls from the village. They have no rich friends to redeem them.”

The captain said nothing for a moment, then spoke. “If you think to shame me into changing my plan, you are wasting your time. I admire you for trying to help your friends, but you can’t change their fate. Or your own.”

His words were chilling. Caroline ate in silence. She had been foolish to imagine that she could become friends with this man and thereby change her fate. You didn’t get to be the captain of a pirate ship by having a soft heart.

“Are you married?” the captain asked suddenly.

Caroline paused for a moment. She might not be able to change his intentions, but that was no reason to make an enemy of him. Civility might still pay some dividends.

“Yes,” said Caroline. “At least I think so.”

“You think so?”

“When your men broke in to my house my husband was attacked. The last I saw of him he was lying on the ground.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” the captain said.

“I imagine that where I am going my marital status will count for nothing.”

The captain changed the subject. “I know you will think I am only offering false comfort, but some girls achieve high status in their owners’ households. Those who know how to play their cards right and make the most of their assets.”

Caroline couldn’t help teasing him a little. “Do you think I have been making the most of my assets, captain? What would you say they are, exactly?”

The captain teased her back. “That dress reveals some of them. And I think that someone taught you a few things about men, about what they like and how to please them. Perhaps it was your husband.”

“Oh, it wasn’t him,” Caroline said, then wished she had kept her mouth shut.

“A lover, then?” The captain smiled. “But there are social skills, as well as s****l. A woman of personality and resource can always prosper.”

The man came in the clear the dishes. He brought a plate of apples.

“That will be all, Jones,” the captain said pointedly. If he wished to be undisturbed, it was not hard to guess why. Caroline felt a twinge of something in the base of her belly. Despite herself, she could not help experiencing a small spark of desire.

She ate an apple. The captain drank more wine. Then he set down his glass. “Come here,” he said.

Caroline stood up and moved around the table. Even if she had wanted to resist, what would have been the point?

“Closer,” said the captain, pointing to a spot just in front of him. Caroline moved until her knees were almost touching his.

“Now lift your skirt,” he said. “Right up.”

There was little purpose in false modesty. She raised her skirts up to her waist, baring her belly and below. The captain leaned forward and slid a hand between her legs. He played with her cunt for a moment, pressing the lips together, tugging on them, and then slipped a finger inside her. She caught her breath as she felt his finger move inside her. Then he took it out and held it up.

“Wet,” he said.

She could see his finger glistening in the candlelight. She blushed bright pink. Why did her body give her away so easily? The captain pushed back the plates and glasses, clearing a space on the table.

“Bend over it,” he said.

Without a word she leaned forward, pressing her hips against the edge of the table, gripping in with her hands. The captain stood for a moment, admiring her bared bottom. Then without warning he smacked her hard on the right cheek. She gave a little squeal, more from surprise than pain. He smacked her on the other side, then paused, watching the white skin slowly turn pink.

“Did he do that, your lover?” the captain asked. Caroline said nothing. She had heard that there were men who enjoyed hurting girls, men for whom the giving of pain was a special kind of pleasure. That time when Henry had spanked her she had wondered if he was just such a man, but she never had time to find out. Was the captain such a man? Was he going to spank her again? Would he give her a thrashing? She felt a throbbing in her cunt at the prospect. It was frightening, to be so utterly at the mercy of a man she scarcely knew, a man of proven violence. But in fact the captain’s next move was to unbutton his breeches. She heard a rustling sound, then felt his c**k, hard and hot, nestling between the lips of her cunt. Very slowly he inserted it, so slowly that it seemed he must be teasing her. And she was so easily teased now; she wanted it, all of it, right now. At last the captain had his c**k fully inside her. Now she wanted to feel it thrusting, but still he teased her, holding himself quite still inside her, then pulling it out as slowly as it went in. God, she wanted it, all of it, hard, pumping inside her. I’m a shameless little w***e, she said to herself, a brazen slut who is almost ready to beg for it, beg for it to be harder, rougher.

The captain pushed his c**k into her again, as slowly as before. She had a sense of what he was about; he wanted her to be forced to admit how much she wanted this, he wanted to break through her ladylike exterior. He wanted her as putty in his hands, pliant, quivering with desire. But why did he want this? What difference did it make to him, that he could make her submit, giving up her pretensions to be modest and respectable? It was his pride, surely. He saw that she had had some influence over him, had persuaded him to mitigate the conditions of their captivity, and now he wanted to reassert his power, by making her his creature sexually, pitiful in her need for him. God, how she wished that she could control her body, could discipline its needs. It was so humiliating to be put in this position.

The captain’s c**k was now buried in her once more. She could feel its great size and strength. He leaned forward, brushing the back of her neck with his lips, then reached a hand round, sliding it between her legs, his finger finding her clit. Deftly he rubbed it, gently coaxing it into hardness. She moaned. This was worse than ever, it was not fair to find out her weakness in this way, so easily. He could play her like a penny whistle, making her moan and sigh and grunt with the force of her need of him. As he played with her clit (how did he know exactly how to touch it so that she was thrilled through her whole being?), he began to thrust his c**k in and out, not violently, but in long strong strokes, going right in up to the hilt then coming back out until the head stood at the entrance, just caught between the lips, before plunging in once more.

Caroline rarely came from intercourse alone. Almost invariable she needed some extra stimulation, from her own hand or another’s. This was exactly what the captain was supplying, and as the thrusts of his c**k grew faster and harder, she found that the tell-tale tingles in her clit grew stronger. Please, please don’t let him stop, she pleaded to herself, and indeed he kept up both the f*****g and the rubbing of her clit, so that at last she felt her desire overwhelm her. She cried out with the intensity of the pleasure, and her hips shook. She feared that such movement might dislodge the captain’s c**k, but skilfully he managed to keep going, only ceasing to stroke her clit when, needing no more stimulation, she pulled his hand away.

But the captain was not yet finished. He turned Caroline over, so that now she lay with her back resting on the table. He pulled her legs right up so that her ankles were supported on his shoulders, and then plunged his c**k in once more. Caroline groaned. She was so sensitive there now that it was almost too much, but the captain was oblivious of her wants, thrusting his c**k into her furiously, intent only on his own pleasure. Caroline was more than happy to let him take what he needed now, in any way he pleased. It was not long before he came in her with a groan.

Unsteadily, Caroline got to her feet. She looked around for something to wipe between her legs. She could feel the captain’s semen, copious no doubt, already seeping out between her legs. She took a napkin from the table and wiped herself clean. She was tired now, and happy to take her leave, divesting herself of her borrowed finery first. When she got back in the hold, she fell into conversation with one of the other girls, Nell, a buxom lass who was one of the volunteers. She was eager to exchange experiences.

“You were a long time with the captain,” she said. “Does he treat you well?”

“Too well, I fear,” said Caroline unguardedly.

“What do you mean?” Nell countered.

What she really meant was that many more such sessions with the captain and she might find herself falling for him. It would be an emotion which had no future. She knew that despite his charms the captain was a callous man, and in an occupation which had no room for sentimentality, or even common kindness. She didn’t want to discuss such a matter with Nell.

“Perhaps I feel a little guilty. He treats me well, with good food, and likes me to wear fine dresses, which he has a plentiful stock of. And all this while the rest of you are confined her, with plain food and nothing but rags for your back, and some of you regularly being used, I doubt not roughly, by coarse and common men.”