His Spoilt Lady

by Vanessa Brooks

  John needed some air, and he wanted Linnet to ponder on her behaviour tonight, so he took his coat, and after warning Linnett not to move from where she stood or to move from her position, he left the cabin. As a precaution, he locked the door.

  As soon as his footsteps had faded away, Linnett frantically rubbed her sore bottom, groaning with the blessed relief of being able to massage her afflicted derriere, which felt as though it was a furnace. Linnett grabbed her hand mirror and positioned it so she could see her injured behind; apart from the scarlet colour it did not seem to be bruised. Linnett flung down the mirror and went to stand near the bed lest John suddenly return. She wondered whether he would make love to her that night. Strangely, instead of the disgust she expected to feel, she found herself shivering with anticipation. Whatever was wrong with her, she thought. John had just beaten her with her hairbrush; why wasn’t she angry still and disgusted? Linnett shook her head with confusion, and turning to the bed end, she lent her forehead against the wood and massaged her poor benighted bottom.

  Up on deck, the moon was full and shone brightly, bathing everything in a magical silver light. John walked to the edge of the ship and looked out at the sea. The water gleamed with an iridescent light, sparkling where the moonshine left a silver trail that led from the moon itself. A flash of light darted from the ship out into the darkness and appeared to glint back as if it were some kind of reflection. John, intrigued, waited for the phenomenon to happen again. As he stood at the ship’s side, he looked up at the large silvery orb hanging in the sky. It reminded John of Linnett’s creamy bottom so recently upended over his knee, and immediately his erection surged to life. John grinned, thinking as furious as he had been with his wife, he did enjoy spanking her delectable behind.

  A sailor on the other side of the ship begun to quietly whistle a familiar tune; it niggled John that he could not remember the words of the song. John looked up into the sky. The stars glowed brightly up in the heavens above as the sailor added words to the song he had been whistling earlier, “Frere Jacques, Frere Jacques, dormez vous, dormez vous, sont a laiment ti, sont a laiment ti, ding dang dong, ding dang dong.” Of course, thought John, that is the song, I recognise it now. He felt faintly uneasy but he wanted to get back to the cabin and remedy the ache in his loins.

  Linnett heard the rattle of the key in the lock and quickly placed her hands back on the bed, thrusting her bottom up high. John glanced at her as he came in but said not a word as he disrobed, washed and then sat, naked, in a chair, facing Linnett’s back. His manhood was fully engorged, and it was a relief to be out of his constraining breeks. John sat and stroked his pulsing shaft, studying the alluring sight of his wife’s rosy, just spanked arse and exposed sex, which he could clearly see was glistening and dewy. His cock surged at such a delectable tableaux, while Linnett held her breath and awaited her husband’s command in a docile and submissive pose.

  John decided that tonight the pleasure would be all his. He padded over to her and slipped his hand straight between her legs. She instinctively tried to close them, protecting her sex, but John slapped her bottom, and she obediently parted them for him with an endearing little mew. His fingers explored her soft folds, and he frigged her with his finger until she groaned aloud and he felt her wetness flood his hand. Bending her further over the bed bought her bottom up towards his erection, and with one swift thrust, he impaled her, watching with a groan as his shaft disappeared into the luscious core of her. Exquisite pleasure pulsed up through his cock, and he pounded against Linnett’s hot red arse. She shuddered at his entry, wildly thrilled at the sheer animal sexuality of what he was doing to her. Hot and hungry for him, she let herself go as never before, and as John pulsed with his release, Linnett cried out, her own climax devouring her.

  The following morning, Linnett awoke lying on her stomach. Her stinging bottom had led to a restless night. She was embarrassed by the previous evening’s events and peeked through her lashes to see whether her husband was awake. John lay beside her. Linnett thought him so handsome with his bare chest covered with dark whorls of hair. One hand was flung up over his head, and Linnett realised it was the one that had spanked her so mercilessly. She tingled and was shocked by her reaction. Linnett didn’t know if it was because she had never been spanked before she met John or whether it was the use of her hairbrush last night, but after the spanking she had been so aroused.

  When John stretched and opened his eyes, he found himself staring into sea green eyes that darkened and pooled with lust when they saw that he was awake. He pulled Linnett on top of him and kissed her, his hand sliding down the soft satiny length of her body, insinuating his fingers between Linnett’s thighs and sliding inside her damp mound. He had barely moved his fingers over her sensitive bud when she convulsed violently and climaxed. John grabbed her around her hips and rolled her over onto her back, plunging himself into her. He rode her hard, stoking her passion so that wave upon wave of lust surged through her loins like wild fire. At last with one final push, John spent himself into her and they lay in a tangle of sheets on the bed, both breathing heavily.

  “Well, good morning, wife,” John managed at last, breathing heavily. “I think from now onwards a spanking for you last thing at night would be beneficial for both of us!” Linnett was silent, clearly too exhausted to reply.

  A week had passed, and they were finally running along the coast of America. It was now seven weeks since they had left Portsmouth, and weather permitting they should arrive in Boston within the next two weeks. Standing on the poop deck, relieved at last to see land, John had his arm around Linnett, who leaned happily into him.

  “John, may I ask you something?”

  John looked down on her up-turned face thinking, my god, she’s pretty. “Anything,” he replied.

  Linnett looked surprised, saying “Really?”

  “Of course, Linnett, if you asked me more questions, you wouldn’t end up across my knee quite so frequently,” he replied.

  “Whatever do you mean?” asked Linnett, genuinely intrigued. John shook his head; she still didn’t understand what he had been trying to teach her.

  “If you ask me if you wish to do something in a pleasant way and obey me when I have to say no to you because what you ask is not safe or good for you – you wouldn’t end up with a sore bottom.”

  Linnett frowned and argued, “But I asked last week to go and find Patsy and you still spanked me and with a hairbrush!”

  John sighed. “Linnett, that was because you wouldn’t accept no as my answer; you still wanted your own way, and you were rude and sassy to boot! That is why I used the hairbrush. Oh, and Linnett, next time you behave like a spoilt little madam, I might not use your hairbrush. I might use my belt instead . . . so be forewarned, my sweet.”

  Linnett pulled away from him and asked incredulously, “ Just to be sure I understand you correctly, if I ask for your permission to do anything other than breathe, you will say no and when I point out how unfair that is, you will spank me? Have I got that right?”

  John grinned and said, “Well now, I might just surprise you and say yes once in a while, you never know!”

  John caught Linnett’s arm and turned her to face him. He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his before saying gently, “Darling, I want to say yes to your requests, but I have to keep you safe. I promised your father that I would, and anyway, what sort of a husband would I be if I let you fly off into danger without stopping you when we are home?”

  Linnett had an overwhelming feeling of homesickness. “Home” was Lavenstock Hall, and oh, how she missed it! Linnett’s mind drifted off, remembering her home, before she realised that she had missed half of what John was telling her.

  “...and if you want jewels or dresses you can just ask me!”

  “A horse, oh, I want a horse! One that I choose for myself,” Linnett said, her face growing animated.

  John laughed, “Then a horse you shall have, my love,” and
he picked her up, swung her off her feet and planted a smacking kiss onto her astonished lips.

  Linnett was finding Patsy’s behaviour increasingly strange. She kept disappearing for hours on end. Linnett had tried to speak to John about it, but he was irritatingly off hand. He couldn’t see what Linnett was worrying about. “She probably has a sweetheart. She has turned into a very pretty girl,” he told her dismissively.

  And so she had. Her soft brown hair, although not yet grown long enough for a girl, curled sweetly around her heart shaped face as it fell to her shoulders. She had lovely blue eyes and sooty lashes. Linnett had shown Patsy how to tie rags in her hair at night to produce curls in the morning. With a few days of rest and regular meals, her cheeks had filled out and held a pleasing, rosy bloom. Yes, Patsy could certainly turn a few heads now if she wanted to.

  But it wasn’t just that Linnett worried; Patsy was so furtive. On the deck one morning, Linnett had sent Patsy to fetch her shawl. Linnett waited, standing with John and Duncan, chatting. After a long while and by now feeling chilly, Linnet decided to go and see where Patsy had got to. As she went to the steps leading down to their cabins, she espied Patsy, who was coming up from the other side of the ship. Linnett waited for her down at the bottom of the stairs. Patsy jumped, startled, when she saw Linnett. She flushed a deep red and wouldn’t look Linnett in the eye. She claimed that she had been unable to find the shawl. Linnett asked her where she had really been, but Patsy insisted on replying, “Nowhere.” Linnett knew she was up to something, especially when she entered her cabin and saw the shawl lying in full view across the chest in her room.

  Every Sunday, Captain Pettigrew held a service for all aboard his ship. John stood with the officers up on the poop deck and on this occasion, the first Sunday since Pat had become a girl again, she joined Linnett. Prayers were said and an officer -- one was chosen each week -- read an extract from the Bible. This week, however, the captain had asked John whether he would like to read. Linnett watched happily as her handsome husband stood tall and proud next to the captain. The slight breeze lifted his dark hair, and the shiny brass buttons of his coat glinted and flashed in the bright sunshine. He began the reading. “The text today is taken from the New Testament, James, chapter three, verses four to six. ‘Behold also the ships, which though they be so great and are driven by fierce winds, yet are they turned about with a very small helm...’” There was a sudden shout from below. John stopped reading and looked up, a finger marking his page.

  A man gestured wildly towards the starboard, and men began to run to the ship’s side, gesturing and looking out to sea. The sailors scrambled up ropes and stood upon one another’s shoulders for a better view, there was much shouting and clamouring. Captain Pettigrew shouted for a telescope to be brought to him. He turned the telescope towards the direction that the sailors were pointing to excitedly.

  “What is it?” Linnett asked, but no one answered her.

  The officers started making their way to their Captain’s side. Suddenly, the yell went up from the captain, “Muster battle stations! Man the cannons!”

  All around them, chaos broke out, men dashed to and fro, Linnett and Patsy clung together terrified. Linnett was searching frantically, looking for sight of her husband; where had he got to? The next moment it seemed to Linnett, the floor under her feet gave way, followed by a huge explosion, and she was thrown sideways and lay in a stupefied daze. Linnett could not make sense out of what was happening around her. After what seemed like an age, but was in fact only a minute or so, strong arms lifted her up and John’s face framed her view.

  “My God, I thought I’d lost you!” he cried, sweeping her up into his arms. “When I saw that cannon ball hit the deck near you, I was beside myself. Come on!” he yelled over the noise and confusion. “We have to get below deck.”

  John turned, ducking and diving, while men, ropes, broken decking and thick smoke all hindered his progress. Where had the smoke come from? Linnett wondered, shocked by this frightening turn of events. She kept asking John over and over what was going on and what had happened to Patsy. Had he seen her? John had no time to answer her questions. He pressed on, trying to find somewhere away from the chaos and confusion that surrounded them. Eventually, they stumbled down the steps that led to their cabin. John shoved open the cabin door and they fell inside.

  They stood still, holding one another and listening to the dreadful sounds coming from above them, the awful screams and shouting, the sudden and shocking pounding of the ship’s guns. Then it dawned on them: they could hear guns from another ship.

  “We are under attack.” John stated heavily. Linnett’s eyes widened in shock, and she had to bite her lip to stop them trembling, she was so afraid. “Who would want to attack us John? Is it the French? The one you spoke of to my father? Why would they attack an English ship? We are not at war with the French at present, perhaps they haven’t heard that the war is at an end,” Linnett babbled with fear.

  John hugged her briefly and set her aside. He spoke rapidly over his shoulder as he strode to the chests, lifting the lids and rummaging inside, scattering the clothes as he hunted frantically within. “Probably they are French, I cannot tell as yet. Their privateers are still attacking merchant vessels, as are the English privateers. We must hide as much of our valuables on our persons as we can, Linnett. Find your jewellery and put as many of the good pieces as you can into your underclothes, wedge them in tightly. I have a money belt here for the coin. Quickly, Linnett!” John snapped, sorry to sound so harsh but wishing to rouse his wife from her innate terror.

  Linnett wrung her hands in a panic. “Linnett!” John’s voice finally penetrated her frozen brain, and she went over to her chest, pulling out her jewellery cask and lifted the lid. Linnett only selected the finest pieces, the emeralds and pearls and a diamond ring with matching bracelet and ear bobs.

  John turned to her and took out of her hands a chain and locket.

  “No my dear, we have to leave the rest; otherwise, when the pirates search they will know we have taken all the best pieces and search us.”

  Linnett put the rest back in the casket. “You think they will board us then?” she whispered trying to be calm.

  “Undoubtedly. I’m afraid our guns will be no match for theirs. Now put on another layer of clothing, but try to conceal the fact that you are wearing two sets of clothes.”

  So saying, John begun to pull on more clothes over his present outfit. Linnett did as she was bid, thankfully, thought John, without question for once. Finally, John stepped back and looked Linnett over critically.

  “Mmm, your neck looks a bit strange.” He reached out and undid her dress buttons at the neck; he then turned the collar of the dress up so that the first dress was hidden. John re-buttoned her up and looked her over. “No one would know, I think… you are still trim even with two sets of clothing on. Now for your warm cloak.”

  The ship tipped suddenly starboard and Linnett stumbled, but John caught her and held her fast. “They are boarding us; that is why the ship has dipped. They have grappling irons and have placed boarding planks from across their ship to ours,” John explained.

  Linnett pulled herself from his arms and ran over to lock their cabin door and then returned to him, her eyes wide with fear. “Oh God, John...what are we to do?”

  John sighed and then shrugged, resigned. “We wait. There is nothing more that we can do.”

  Linnett dropped into a chair and gripped its arms. “Will they kill us do you think?” she asked tremulously.

  John looked at his beautiful young wife. Her fate could be worse than death. He knew for a fact that young women caught by French pirates were often shared amongst the crew, but he had no wish to terrify her further. “I am sure that they will not harm us.” John spoke with a confidence he did not feel. If he had to, he knew he would kill her rather than see her suffer; he fingered the small pistol hidden in his coat pocket. Linnett relaxed slightly, believing and trusting her husba
nd.

  The noise above was harrowing. Linnett covered her ears then jumped, startled by a particularly loud bang. The two of them stood there silent and tense waiting for what seemed an eternity. They listened to the dreadful sound of battle and the death cries of men, the ear-splitting shriek of tearing wood as the guns found their mark. All they could do was wait for the appalling noise to cease. Neither of them spoke of the friends they had made who were now fighting for their very lives. Each prayed quietly for safe deliverance. The sounds above started to sound less frenetic and the pounding of the guns ceased. There were a few isolated screams and the sound of running feet overhead.

  The minutes passed and when finally there came a pounding on the cabin door, they both started with shock. They stood side by side facing the door, and John placed his arm protectively about his trembling wife, knowing how little protection he would actually be able to afford her. The door suddenly crashed inwards, and two men, bare-chested and smeared with blood, pushed their way inside the cabin. Linnett screamed and turned her face into her husband’s shoulder. It was only a second of comfort before she felt herself wrenched apart from John by rough hands that dug into the tender flesh of her upper arms as the pirates manhandled them both up onto the deck.

  The scene that met their eyes was one of almost total devastation. The broken and blood-stained bodies of seamen were everywhere, their mutilated remains lying where they had fallen, hideous wounds and unseeing eyes staring blindly. Even in her worst nightmare, Linnett could not imagine such horror. Her eyes were drawn to a small group of figures hanging in a line from the main mast, swaying gently in the sea breeze. A slow dawning realisation of what she was looking at suddenly hit Linnett, and she spun quickly doubling over as she was violently sick. When she was finished, the pirate holding her punched her hard in the small of her back, disgust written all over his face, and the sudden shock of the impact knocked Linnett to her knees. Through a haze of pain, she heard two shouts, one she distinguished as John’s cut-off in mid-yell; the other she recognised as Patsy’s.