| Red sky at night 10/11/02 They had returned from a long journey at sea earlier that eve, a cutter ship manned with rogues befitting their captain�s reputation, the setting sun turning the sky red. His crew weary from the weeks at sea without the �softer� things in life, the Captain and his men came to shore that night seeking food and drink, and something to satisfy their darker hungers. Each of the men looking off into the setting sun as they approached land, the red sky illuminating in their eyes, hell had come to town. They walked the dirt roads from the harbor to the local tavern, where they found what they sought. Food, drink and whores. The men drank freely, while the captain stood outside leaning against the wall watching the moonrise in the night sky. The roads that night crowded with carriages, he watched as they headed deeper into town. The talk in the tavern was of a gala affair at the Highfield Mansion. As he stood there she walked by. Dark green velvet dress, rustled about her, he saw the black velvet boots as she raised her skirts to climb into the waiting carriage. Her long hair swept up off her shoulders revealing her pale neck, she wore a black velvet choker with a small pearl hanging from it. The scent of jasmine lingered faintly in the air after she had passed. He watched her silently, and did not avert his eyes when she turned for a moment, glancing at him, her dark eyes meeting his gaze. A hint of a smile traced her lips, but he showed no recognition, no emotion to her as a faint color rose to her cheeks, and she continued on her way. One of his men had stepped out as he started to walk away, to follow the carriage. They spoke briefly; the men knew what to do. Instructions were not needed. The women of their choosing were to be returned silently to the ship and locked away till dawn when he returned and they sailed. The man nodded; about to question the captain further on his leave, but twas then that another called him back into the tavern. On foot, he followed the carriages that led up to the mansion. His long hair tied back, his black cavalier boots, the tight leather black pants and black leather vambraces that adorned the forearms of his white ruffled tunic were hardly the dress for an occasion such as this, but he had an air about him, an attitude as he strolled into the mansion that allowed him to fit in perfectly with the guests. Throughout the evening she captured glimpses of the man she had seen in town. She wandered through the mansion talking with others, putting on a well-rehearsed smile for all she greeted, but her heart wasn�t in the festivities. Each time she saw him, he stared with those fiery eyes, sending chills through her, and she would always be the first to lower her eyes, only to find him gone when she dared look again. She wondered who he was, the aristocratic rogue who wandered the halls of this beautiful mansion. The devil in his dark eyes seemed to hide so much when he looked at her. Within a small circle of friends, she caught site of him once again as did some of the other girls. One had heard from her father that he was a pirate captain. The girls talked, as girls do, about him. They speculated on his adventures, and on the way he would treat a woman. They giggled, all of them untouched, the whispered thoughts of sex merely brought about a faint rise of color to their cheeks, and a wetness unknown between their legs. As the night wore on, she found her parents; kissing their cheeks she bid all a farewell, as she was to home and to retire early, feigning illness. Back at home, the door to her room locked, she began to undress. Her hands ran over the smooth curves of her body as she removed her dress, laying it neatly over the Queen Anne chair. Next came the petticoats, then slowly unlacing her corset and finally unhooking her garters and removing her stockings. She stood before the floor length mirror, her hands moving over her breasts as she purred softly, moving down her body as she thought about the captain, the rogue, she had seen all evening. She wondered if he would find her attractive, and what he would do with her. She sighed softly, letting her hair down, her long mane cascading over her shoulders, knowing that a man like that who had been with dozens of experienced women would never even consider wasting his time on her. She grabbed the silver brush from her dresser, carefully pulling it through her hair as she dreamed of the captain. Her heart beating faster the more her thoughts rested on him, she watched in the mirror, her breasts rose and fell, her nipples growing harder. She felt the wetness growing between her legs, but was unaware of what caused such a reaction. Laying her hairbrush on the dresser, she turned to her large mahogany bed, reaching for the white cotton nightdress that lay there. Twas then that he stepped from the shadows, his deep voice saying quietly to her, �such a shame to cover you up.� She was startled at first, her mind racing, wondering how long he had been there, how long he had watched. With just a few steps of his unwavering stride, he already stood before her when she began to open her mouth. His finger rose to her lips, quieting any words that would have emerged from her. Her eyes caught in his gaze, she could not do anything as she felt his finger leave her lips running slowly down her neck, pausing for a moment between her breasts. It moved first from one nipple to the other, tracing around them, feeling them grow harder under his touch. Her body began to tremble, goosebumps covering her flesh. His hand remained on her breast then, massaging it, squeezing it softly, while the other moved up her inner thigh, cupping her sex, he squeezed it lightly, bringing a soft purr to her trembling lips. His finger slipped between her nether lips quickly finding the one spot, stroking it just a few times bringing her to an immediate climax. Her soft purrs, and trembling body combined with the frightened look in her eyes brought a grin to his lips for he knew then that she was a virgin. Gathering her in his arms, he swept her off her feet, bringing her to the bed where he lightly tossed her. He stood beside her, looking down at her body while he unlaced his shirt, tossing the vambraces and it to the floor. Her hands moved to shyly cover herself from his gaze. He reached for her nightie, and as she watched he began to tear it into strips. Taking one arm from her breasts, removing the other hand from between her legs, he bound her to the bed. He left her legs unbound, her mouth he did not gag. Something in him softens as he looked down at her beautiful features, his finger tracing across her cheekbone, moving down to her quivering lips. She opened her mouth a bit, his finger moving inside, the taste of her own juices exciting her. Another hand on her pale thighs, parting her legs, she offer only slight resistance as his hand moved up father, once again stroking her nether lips. He positioned himself between them, his member swollen and erect. His finger moved up inside of her, gently, as he made sure she was prepared for what she was about to receive. Withdrawing his finger he pressed the head of his swollen member against her, watching the fear in her eyes grow. Yet she did not cry out, she did not fight his bonds. He was intrigued, for besides the fear of the unknown, he saw a trust in her eyes as she gazed up at him that he had ne�er known before, twas at that moment that she became more than a conquest to him. He pushed into her slowly, carefully trying not to cause her too much pain, even as he fought back his own darkness and desire to thrust into her. He felt her tense beneath him, saw the pain in her eyes and she gasped quietly. He kissed the tip of her nose, and smiled at her, moving his lips to hers in a passionate embrace as his final thrust broke through, filling her completely. Her scream lost in his kiss, he began to caress her breasts, pinching her nipples gently while he slowly moved in and out of her. He only broke his kiss when he felt her beginning to relax, when the pleasure began to overcome the pain she felt. Only then did he dare to look into her eyes again. Her body so soft and warm beneath him began moving in rhythm with his. Her soft purrs filled his ears, love filled her eyes, the pain faded, as he filled her with pleasure she had never known before. He felt her body tensing, her climax nearing as well as his own; he reached up freeing her hands from the binds. Her arms immediately wrapped around him, her nails clawing down his back as he thrust faster and harder into her. They climaxed together, her body trembling beneath him, her muscles tightening even more around him milking his seed. As the end of night neared, he rose to leave her in the cover of darkness, unwilling to sully the reputation of one so fair. She padded softly behind him, wrapping in a robe, not wanting him to leave but knowing he must. He stopped for a moment, turning to face her; he kissed her eyes, her nose, and then her lips. She smiled, and finally spoke, �may I ask one thing of ye m�lord?� And he nodded. �May I ask your name?� His grin turned to laughter at her fragile innocence. �Yes m�lady, tis George. Do not fear m�lady, I shall return to you in time.� He vanished then out the balcony doors and into the waiting night. She returned to her bed, the scent of him still present. Her body ached, as did her heart for one she had only just met. She had just drifted to the borders of sleep when she heard the rustling on the balcony, thinking that it was he who had returned to her, it was too late to scream when the hand clamped tightly over her mouth and rough hands grabbed at her waist. The scent of her perfume, the light sting of the claw marks on his back occupied his mind and he ne�er noticed two of his men lurking in the shadows as he left her home returning to the ship. Once on board he went below to peruse the stock that his men had gathered that eve. Woman of all appearances caged below, gagged to silence, but in none of them did he see what he had found in her this night. He returned to his chambers, sending word to lift anchor as soon as the last of the men returned. Just before dawn they set sail, heading out to the ocean, only this time he had done something he had ne�er before, he left his heart on shore instead of returning it to his watery mistress. As was their usual routine after they had placed enough miles between them and land, the men would chose a maiden or two from their captive stock and chain her naked in the captains chambers. When his darkness rose, he would return to his cabin, those who awaited their destiny below would know what was in store when she began to scream and plead. Roughly, he would grab their breasts, squeezing until a scream rose from their lips. When the men would hear the screams, many grew hard knowing what was coming to them soon. The captain would feed his darkness on the lass of the evening, screams would echo through the night as he whipped them. In each woman they left for him, he would search their eyes, looking for the same gentle defiance, the same unwavering pride that he saw in her eyes. And always he was disappointed. Even when she was faced with fear, even when the pain came, she still held on to her dignity, it never faltered. Each woman brought to him bore the marks of his wrath and disappointment across their bodies. He would take a few of them to satisfy his lusts, but it was not to be like what he had experience with her. Something had changed in him that night with her, and would never be the same. When he grew tired of them, each one he would release from the iron cuffs that held them in place. He made no attempts to hold them back, no attempts to stop them from escape. Usually right outside his door, several of the men waiting to chase her through the ship. Hunting the fleeing woman down was their greatest sport at sea. The one who captured her first, was the first one to play. Those who wished to participate would each take turns at her, sometimes more than once. All her openings would be filled with their lusts. On the deck, she would be bound, hand and foot, her body stretched wide. They would lash her, making wagers with the others as to how loudly they could make a woman scream. The women were never severely harmed; the welts of their lashes would heal without scars. The sexual abuse to their bodies no more than what the woman themselves had already put their bodies through. At night, they would quietly approach the shores of whatever small village they were near, the woman gagged for the trip. Once on shore they would leave her with a garment to wear and a pocket full of coins to quiet them. A large sum of money for a common whore, no tales ever emerged about their voyage at sea. Came the night when one last woman remained. Untouched by any of them, she was led to the captain�s chambers and bound as all the others. Except with her, their bound her long hair up to her head, then placed a loosely fitting cloth mask over it to hide her face, but leaving very tiny slots through which she could see and breathe. The men that night appeared a bit nervous about this captive, all along wondering if it had been a good idea to take her. They had noticed the change in the captain, and they had noticed her strength. Even as the other women cringed, begging and pleading with them, she never did. Their treasures restocked, they thought about leaving her hidden below and returning her to land when again they docked, but they knew, the deed had been done and the game needed to be played out. They cuffed her wrists above her head, lifting her a few inches from the floor; she swung freely with the rocking motion of the ship. They removed the simple nightdress she had worn, all admiring her body, but none daring to touch. They knew this night they would either incur the captains fury, or his pleasure. Some feared both. When he approached his cabin, the men moved back, but none left. Upon entering he saw the body of a woman swinging before him, her back facing him. The faint light from the single lantern did not illuminate her features, nor did he pay much attention. He looked around at his men, then back to the woman, a smile forming on his lips. �All wish to watch this eve?� and when none of the men replied, he shook his head, picking up his lash. He noticed that they had covered her head, but paid no particular mind to it, thinking was such a shame that one with such a nice body would bare a face that needed to be hidden. He was about to swing his lash when one of the men stepped forward, and in a very low voice whispered, �tis not like the others Capt�n ye may want to go a bit easy on �er�. He laughed, looking from the man to the rest of the crew. �Ye going soft on us old man?� He swung his lash then, striking the woman�s back. Her body swung lightly from the blow, faint pink stripes forming, but to his amazement, no sound came from her. Without saying a word, he once again swung his lash, this time with more force. The red welts sprang immediately to her pale flesh, marring its perfect alabaster finish. But again, no noise came from her. He looked at his men grinning, suspecting that they had left her gagged, and tis the reason she made not a sound. The men already knowing his suspicions shook their heads, a few of them leaving his quarters. He turned back, his lash making a swish in the air as it cracked against her lower back and tush raising bright red welts. Again she was silent. He continued, striping her back and sides, her breasts and tummy till she resembled that of a tiger with crimson and alabaster stripes, small rivulets of blood beginning to drip from a few of the larger welts. The force of his blows causing her to twist and turn by the manacles that held her wrists. The men had slowly left his cabin a few at a time, unable to continue to watch what he did, watch what they caused him to do. None of them willing to stop him and tell him. On one of her rotations he happened to look up and catch a glimpse of her dark eyes through the slots, and in mid swing, he dropped the lash to the floor. The eyes he knew, the eyes he had fallen for, and to see the pain in them, the eyes he now felt he had lost forever. His fury rose as he turned to look at the two remaining men, the two who had taken her from her home and brought her on board. He shook, a violent storm brewing in his eyes. �Get her down� was all he could manage to say in a harsh growl as he left his cabin. Not a word was said to him as he grabbed a bottle and disappeared into the recesses of the ship. The two released her, removing her mask, and left her alone in his cabin, unsure as to what to do with her. When she was alone, her tears began to fall, the welts covering her body filled her with a fiery pain the likes of which she had ne�er before experienced, but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt when she saw the one who inflicted it. After a while, her trembling slowed, the pain fading to fiery burning throughout her. She found one of his shirts, slipping it over her naked body. Being confined below deck, and then chained and hanging, her legs were quivering, and she did not wish to wander around the ship, aware of the screams she had heard from all of the other women. She lay on the floor, on a pile of blankets beside his bed. Curling up, she began to purr softly, the scent of him overtaking her senses and filling her with the same love she had felt for him throughout the many days and nights since she had met him, and filling her with forgiveness. There she remained drifting off to sleep when one of the men had come by to see if the captain had returned yet, and try to reason with his anger. He looked into the door, noticing her there; very quietly he slipped in, dimming the lantern so that she could rest. The captain�s instincts about this one were correct, and he had hoped that they had not unwittingly destroyed her spirit, or his. He left her there sleeping, closing the door behind him. Back on deck he told a few of the others what he had discovered, and the word was passed quickly through out the small ship. The captain returning to his darkened room, filled with a sense of loss and a large amount of liquor never even noticed her when he climbed into his bed. He slipped into a fitful sleep not long after closing his eyes. His nightmares came; visions of her filled his thoughts, visions of the pain in her eyes, of sadness and loss, but most of all, visions of her blood as it ran in rivers down her body. In his nightmares the lash flayed her flesh from her skin, ripping her open. No matter how lightly he swung it, the lash tore gaping strips of flesh from her body. Never once did she make a sound. Her screams he could handle, her words filled with hate he wished for, but all he received was the pain in her eyes, the sorrow, and the unmistakable look of love and forgiveness she had when she looked at him, and her dreaded silence. Blackness hit him then, the nightmares fading. But shortly he began to dream again. To dream of making love to her as he did that first night. In this dream, underneath his shirt, he could see she was striped from his lash, but smiled as she looked down into his eyes, lowering herself on his rigid member. She rode him slowly, rocking gently with the ocean waves that held the ship in its grasp. He could feel her tightness wrapped around him, the heat of her flesh on his body. He swore he could see her, could smell very faintly her scent combined with that of jasmine. His hands were tenderly caressing her hips and thighs, careful not to disturb the welts that covered her. When she leaned forward to kiss him, her breasts pressed to him, his tongue filled her mouth as his seed filled her body. He felt her shudder, her climax overtaking her, her tight muscles milking his seed from his shaft. In his dream she collapsed in his arms then, he could hear her purrs as she snuggled up next to him. He felt her head upon his chest, her leg entwined with his. He could smell the scent of her hair, and feel the silkiness of it as his hand stroked it. He held still in his dream, fearing that any movement would wake him, and that she would disappear forever. His heart held hope, but his mind told him that she was lost to him. He couldn�t believe how real this dream was, and how much he had lost when he lost her. Twas then that she moved a slight bit, as she dreamed, her hand upon his chest twitching that brought him from his �dream�, from his reverie. He lay perfectly still yet, knowing he was awake, he could feel her weight upon him, or was it just a blanket. He could smell her scent, and the scent of their lovemaking. His ears strained, and when he heard her soft purrs over the insistent lapping of the waves against the ship, he dared open his eyes. And there she was. His striped kitten curled up in his arms, in his bed. He knew then what he had seen in her eyes was real, that the love within them true. He held her close, protectively, vowing to himself that he would never cause her to hurt like that again. Unfortunately his watery mistress had another fate for him. � by darkest angell |