The Pits of Passion

by Amber Flame

  “Hmmm, yes,” said Franklin. Pretending to inspect the damage, he pulled the shreds and revealed the plump ripeness of her breasts, each topped with a luscious cherry. “Pity about that,” he said consolingly as he slipped one hand into her gown. “I’ll have a new gown made for you.” He found a taut nipple and rolled it between his fingers until it turned rock hard and little jets of pleasure shot through her breasts. She moaned and tried to push away but her arms were weak with passion.

  “I doubt if this dress can be repaired,” Franklin said. With a single motion he grabbed the loose material and ripped it full length down the front. Elizabeth’s gown fell away and she stood shaking in her thin chemise, Franklin’s other hand still possessively on her breast.

  “I had forgotten how lovely you are,” he said huskily. His lips burned a path across her face, her neck and down toward her taut breasts. She felt on fire and wondered that she could love Benjamin so much and still respond to Franklin like this.

  Franklin suddenly bent and scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to his bunk. He laid her carefully, down that is, and raked her flesh with his hot, groping hands. The chemise came away in shreds, and Elizabeth lay bare to his smoldering gaze.

  “Franklin, no!” she moaned weakly. “Please don’t do this, Franklin, please don’t.”

  “Sorry, pet,” he said raggedly. He began to tear off his own clothes in a fervor. When he stood naked before her, she moaned again.

  “Oh, please, Franklin, don’t do this to me.”

  Instead of answering, Franklin suddenly produced that THING, that device that had driven her so insane with desire before. His eyes dark with passion, he put it on and stood over her like a heavenly giant. With Elizabeth moaning unintelligible things, Franklin lowered himself on top of her. His hands and lips covered her burning flesh with caresses, and he moved over her in a way that enflamed her with desire. He raised himself up ever so slightly and began to work slowly between her legs when a muffled “ahem” stopped him.

  “Satan’s balls, Farnbuck, are you still here?” Franklin roared.

  “Sorry sir. “ Farnbuck said quietly. “Where do you want this candle? You did ask me to get it, sir.”

  “Shove it up your ass, Farnbuck!”

  “Sir?”

  “What now?” Franklin bellowed.

  “May I blow the flame out first, sir?”

  “Farnbuck!” The tone of Franklin’s voice sent Farnbuck scurrying out the door and the sound of running footsteps pattered away.

  Franklin looked down seductively at Elizabeth, lying pensively on the bed. Although she stared back at him with dismay, her face was flushed and her body was poised, ready for his thrusting manhood. Franklin came down upon her and they melted into one thrashing, flailing being, making mad passionate love until they both collapsed

  in a sweaty pile of exhaustion.

  Sometime later, although Elizabeth wasn’t sure how much time had passed, she stirred enough to look around. Now that her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, she recognized Franklin’s cabin. She had so hoped it was Benjamin who had sent for her that she hadn’t noticed the black and red motif or the whip laying idle on the big seamen’s desk. Now she cursed herself for being so gullible and trusting. How could she have thrown herself into Franklin’s arms this way? She felt guilty and afraid, for her wickedness was such that she was sure she would never see Benjamin again.

  Franklin rolled over and lay staring at her, his eyes drowsy with satisfaction. He lifted a curled tress from where it lay on her breast and toyed with it between his fingers.

  “You have learned from your time with my brother,” he said finally. “You are no longer the clumsy innocent, are you?”

  “How dare you?” she said, but her tone did not match her words. She was guilty, yes, and remorseful, but too satiated to rise to Franklin’s taunts. How could such an inhuman wooden device be such a turn on? And that thing he used wasn’t bad, either.

  “Don’t show your claws to me, little kitten,” Franklin said. “You are mine now, and my brother will never get you back. You may save your indignities. All I want from you is a willing partner in debauchery.”

  “Never!” Elizabeth hissed. “I’ll never come willingly to you. I hate you!”

  “That is enough for now. You’ll find that I grow on you.” He slapped the firm pink thigh under his hand and got up from the bed. “Now we must set sail. We have a lot of traveling to do.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked hopefully. “Back to England?”

  “No, pet,” he laughed. “No more to England. We’re bound for the coast of Africa.”

  “Africa? Why are we going there?” She tried to pull the sheet around her to cover her nakedness but it was all soggy and cold. She thrust it away from her and allowed Franklin’s eyes to rake over her as he dressed.

  “Because, love, I am in the slave business and that is where one buys slaves.”

  “Slaves?” she asked.

  “I distinctly hear an echo in here,” he said.

  “But that’s cruel and inhuman, Franklin! How can you do such a thing?”

  “It’s also very lucrative,” he explained. “And I am in business to make money, not to be human.”

  “That’s obvious,” she said sourly.

  Franklin pulled on his boots and buttoned his shirt, then came to stand before the bunk.

  “Make yourself at home in my absence. Since we’re sailing in the dead of night, I must stay topside to steer us away from the coast to clear waters. I trust you’ll be comfortable.”

  “Humph!” Elizabeth said. Franklin bowed low to her and left.

  The voyage to Africa passed smoothly and Elizabeth settled into a routine. She took her breakfast alone after Franklin left early, but he returned to have lunch with her. For the remainder of the day she read or sat at the porthole looking out at the lovely green ocean and counting dead fish that floated lazily by. Franklin returned in the evening and they would share dinner, and then would come game time. It was always the same. Franklin would get a new idea, like hollowing out a cucumber instead of his wooden toy, and Elizabeth would always wail and moan until Franklin aroused her beyond reason and she would succumb to his desire. She was becoming very adept at succumbing.

  CHAPTER 8

  When they dropped anchor off the coast of Africa, Franklin was kept very busy. Elizabeth watched out the porthole as he went with some men to shore in a dinghy and set up a rude camp. As far out as the ship was lying, she had difficulty making out what was going on in the camp, and she decided to rectify the matter.

  That afternoon, Farnbuck came in with her luncheon tray. She was dressed as well as she might be in Franklin’s cast off shirt and breeches and began her plan at once.

  “Mr. Farnbuck,” she asked innocently. “Is Captain Elliott returning to ship today?”

  “No, madam, he’s got to meet with his slavers and arrange for cages on the beach.”

  Elizabeth’s stomach turned over, but she plunged on. “But he said I would accompany him back to land later today so he might have me with him. Didn’t he give you such orders?”

  “No. He didn’t give me any order like that.”

  “I distinctly remember him saying something to you about it at breakfast this morning.”

  Farnbuck set out her lunch, refusing to comment.

  “Does he get very upset and violent if his orders are not carried out?” she asked sweetly.

  Farnbuck glared at her. “He didn’t give me any orders,” he said.

  “Oh, all right, Mr. Farnbuck.” She sat at the table and spread her napkin in her lap. “Does Captain Elliott believe in keel hauling?” she asked as she nibbled her lunch.

  “Keel hauling?” Farnbuck asked.

  “Yes. You know, tying a man by ropes on either side of the ship and dragging him along under the hull of the ship so the barnacles and things tear the flesh off his body and rip....”

  “That’s enough!” Farnbuck said. �
��Captain didn’t give me no orders and I ain’t going to row you to shore.”

  “All right,” Elizabeth said sweetly. “Maybe he prefers to flog disciplinary problems instead. He’s so adept with the whip, after all.”

  Farnbuck slammed the teapot down on the table and the rest of the plates jumped.

  “Are you sure?” he asked angrily. “Are you sure he said that?”

  Elizabeth sniffed in contrition. “Quite sure, believe me. I’ve learned to listen well to Captain Elliott and pay close attention to his orders. I don’t want to end up on his shit list.”

  “All right!” Farnbuck said. “I’ll order a dingy and have you rowed ashore, but if you’re lying to me....”

  “Really, Mr. Farnbuck, a lady of my birth and breeding is hardly one to lie. Truth is a saintly virtue, and probably the only one I have left intact. Now, about that dingy....”

  “I’ll order one lowered and come back for you in a half hour. Be ready.”

  With a murderous glare and a violent slam of the door, Farnbuck left. Elizabeth hummed to herself as she went about eating her lunch.

  Very shortly she was seated in the small, unsteady dingy and headed for shore. The fresh sea breezes felt so good on her face after the crowded, stale air of the cabin for so long. She breathed the air deeply and almost laughed out loud at being outside again. Even if Franklin were angry with her, it would be worth it.

  When the dingy pulled onto the beach, one man handed her ashore and then the men beat a hasty retreat back toward the ship.

  Franklin had noted the boat’s approach and strode purposefully across the beach.

  “What in blue blazes are you doing here?” he demanded. “Who let you out? How did you get my men to row you ashore?” He grabbed her arm brutally and his fingers bruised her tender flesh.

  “I’m tired of being stuck in that stale little cabin!” Elizabeth shouted back. “I want to get some fresh air too! I’m not one of your slaves and I won’t stay chained to your bed, so there!”

  Franklin gazed at her questioningly, then burst out laughing.

  “So,” he said. “My little pet will not stay caged.” He led her up the beach to his camp and motioned her to a comfortable chair under a palm frond awning. He seated himself next to her and lit a pipe. “I’ll find out who was stupid enough to let you out and he’ll be severely punished. And I’ll also find out what you paid him--or how, perhaps I should say?”

  He cocked an eyebrow toward her, waiting.

  “Are you worried about me giving away my favors to someone else?” she baited.

  “You do and I’ll lock you up so well no one will be able to get you out. Now how did you do it?”

  “Mr. Farnbuck was kind enough to arrange it for me.”

  “Farnbuck?” Franklin said curiously. “Don’t tell me you got that closet queen in bed with you?”

  “Not hardly,” Elizabeth sniffed. “Actually I told him you had ordered my transportation to the camp and you would keel haul him if he didn’t do it. You should be flattered that he is so frightened of you.”

  “Hmm, yes, I suppose I should. I’ll speak to him about it, though.” He watched her silently for a moment. “You shouldn’t be here, you know. It’s very dangerous.”

  “Why?” she asked. She looked around for the first time. She saw men very busy working on cages of some sort, cutting and tying lengths of wood and making sure they were sturdy. Then her eyes fell on a man unlike any she had seen. He was over six feet tall and black as the ace of spades. He wore nothing but a g-string and a little pouch and

  his body glistened with sweat in the hot afternoon sun. Elizabeth was immediately interested in him, but also frightened, because the man’s glittering black eyes were riveted on her.

  “Who is that?” she managed. She thought it best to return her gaze to Franklin, but her eyes seemed glued to the black man.

  Franklin noticed her staring. “You had better not look at him like that for long,” he warned. “That’s a back-stabbing, slave-selling murderous darkie savage and he’d probably like nothing better than to pierce your pink skin with his spear.”

  “I don’t see a spear.”

  “It’s rising up from his g-string,” Franklin said sourly. And it was. From the trim line across his abdomen, the black’s small garment had suddenly turned to a spiking tower of taut leather, and it beckoned to Elizabeth.

  “Don’t these people--if that’s what they are--have any modesty?” she asked.

  “None whatsoever. He’d probably come right over and throw you down right here in broad daylight if all my men weren’t around. These savages think of nothing but eating and fornicating, and they never get tired of it.”

  “Really?” Elizabeth asked innocently.

  Franklin stood up and roughly pulled her up with him. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to be seen out here very much. Come into my tent.” Not waiting for an answer, he pulled her along behind him.

  His tent was large and spacious, with a cot set up to sleep on and a table and chair to one side. There were animal skins and strangely decorated rugs thrown about and Elizabeth thought it very wild and savage looking. For some reason the atmosphere on this strange beach seemed charged to her, and she found herself excited in a way she would not admit.

  “Will I be safe in here?” she asked curiously.

  “For the most part,” Franklin said. “My men won’t bother you on pain of their lives, but I don’t trust the savages. The best thing would be to stay out of sight; that way you won’t be tempting them. Even in my clothes you’re much too sensuous.”

  Elizabeth looked down at herself. She had tied Franklin’s shirt about her midriff because it was so long, and the loose front bagged so that the swelling cleavage of her breasts showed. Franklin’s pants were much too big, but the sweat from the heat had plastered them to her body so her legs were clearly outlined.

  “But I have nothing else to wear,” she said. “You tore my gown.”

  “Yes, yes, I know,” Franklin said irritably. “Maybe I can have the natives make up something for you. I’ll see what I can do.” He paced about her in the tent. “I have to go back outside and supervise the men, but I want you to stay in here. That man you saw will be bringing in a load of slaves for the first cages soon, and I don’t want you about.” He came close to her and took her chin roughly in his hand. “Do you understand? If those black bastards get a hold of you, they’ll split you in two. They’re built different from white men, and white women are not suited for it. They’ll kill you if they get to you.”

  Elizabeth nodded, suddenly frightened. The notion of being screwed to death didn’t bother her, but she didn’t care much for pain. She’d had enough of that already.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll stay here.”

  “Good. I’ll be back shortly after sundown.”

  When Franklin left, she prowled around the tent, looking closely at the strange fabrics and designs of the native blankets. The patterns were so completely different from any she’d ever known that she wasn’t sure if she liked them or not. She picked up a zebra skin and tried to imagine the animal as it looked when it was alive, but had difficulty doing it. The only striped animal she had ever seen was a tabby cat and the thought of a huge striped cat was all she could conjure up.

  Finally, she settled down on the cot and relaxed in the coolness of the tent. She thought the excitement of getting off the ship and being in such strange new surroundings had tired her, and she slipped easily into a dream filled sleep.

  When she awoke, the tent was dark and a strange sound had startled her awake. It frightened her, although she had no idea what it was. She jumped off the cot and ran to the door of the tent, slipping outside before she thought about Franklin’s warning.

  A strange sight spread out before her. She saw a teeming line of torches snaking down out of the mountains and along with it came the eerie sound of clanking chains. As she watched, the procession drew closer and filtered into camp,
and Elizabeth was shocked to see a long, unruly line of black people all chained together and being herded along by other blacks with clubs and torches.

  The word slave had connoted certain meanings to her before of indentured servants, people working for their keep instead of for wages, but she had never in all her wildest dreams thought it could be like this. She was horrified and sickened and the thought of traveling on a slave ship with Franklin turned her stomach. Luckily, it turned toward her colon so she didn’t throw up.

  She watched in awe as the clanking line of slaves stopped at a guard and the people stood staring about. She realized there were not only men, but women and even children in chains. They stood like dazed cattle, not knowing what to do or not caring.

  She saw one sweat-shiny face turn toward her, then slowly another and another. Suddenly the whole group was staring at her, all eyes wide with awe and--was it reverence? Even the black guards, the traitors to their race, were staring at her, their mouths open and tongues lolling. Elizabeth looked about, wondering what they

  were all staring at. Then she saw the tall black man with the loincloth striding toward her. His dark muscles shone in the torchlight.

  “Elizabeth!” Franklin shouted. He ran toward her, cutting off the advance of the black man. “Damn you, didn’t I tell you to stay inside? Do you want to be attacked by these savages? Just the sight of you incites them.”

  He turned her roughly and pushed her into the tent, away from the hundreds of eyes.

  “But Franklin,” she said. “How can you chain all those people? You’re treating them like--like wild animals!”

  “That’s exactly what they are,” Franklin said irritably. “And they would just as soon have you for dinner as any other piece of meat and I don’t mean served in bed!”

  “You mean they’re cannibals?” she asked in dismay.

  “If it gets down to it, yes. If they’ve not got anything else they want they fall upon each other like shrews. Now you must stay hidden. They’ve already seen your golden hair and it’s caused quite a stir.”