Barth had won, and now Lissa stood tied tightly to the tree beside Gregor’s tower as Barth’s temporary prisoner.
He stood naked in front of her, wielding a narrow leather paddle. He swung it back and forth with his powerful arm, each swing striking her defenseless breasts with incessant, stinging blows. They were as red as fire, the tender flesh marked and bruised, hurting so much that even bizarre-fun-loving Lissa couldn’t stifle her cries. Each time the savage, heavy paddle struck a breast, it flung it upward and wildly to the side. Their violent dance of distress was accompanied by the rhythmic rise and quiver of his erection.
One of the maids, dragged from Blackthorne House and chained by her collar to the tree, knelt between him and Lissa. Her arms were harnessed to her back, but her warm pink tongue was busy fondling the purple tip of his manhood.
Finally Lissa reached the limit of her endurance. Her sobbing voice begged Barth to stop, pleaded for pity. His eyes glazed over at the tone of her voice and his vehement cock spewed out his broth of sperm, splattering it against the servant girl’s face.
Lissa’s breasts were purple and swollen for five days, and she could not bear to touch them, or wear a bra. She went without wearing a blouse for a week until her twin beauties recovered. Her husband, Richard, just shook his head with a grin and remarked, “When are you going to learn? Barth cheats at cards....”
Now Lissa’s breasts were in jeopardy again. The thought of them being molested by Scott made her smile in spite of her anxiety. Lissa noticed her mare’s back becoming slippery, and realized her pussy was lubricating itself. What wicked game will I be forced to play this time, she wondered. That damned Barth and his cheating. Well, I can cheat, too. I’ll think of a bet I can’t lose, and this time I’ll send Barth to our neighbor’s training stables.
Three miles southeast of Blackthorne House was Wymer Hall, the estate of Lord Penley. He had grown old and spent his days in a wheelchair, so his five grown daughters ran the place now. They had converted the training stables and race course to a much more lucrative and pleasant business. They specialized in capturing young foreign men eighteen years of age, and training them into carnal slaves for wealthy and sexually underprivileged women.
The mare slowed to a walk as she carried Lissa under the eaves of Blackthorne Forest. The long black shadows rippled over her naked body, caressing her flesh as if the trees themselves lusted for her feminine delights. The mare moved away from the western edge of the forest, seeking some sign of a path in the dimming gloom. Creatures rustled in the leaves nearby, and strange, night-roaming birds awakened and fluttered in the swaying branches high above.
The thin rind of a crescent moon had disappeared into the sun’s glare yesterday at sunrise. There would be no ghostly shimmer of silvered moonlight for Lissa. Soon the forest would fill with an inky murk. Where then? And what then? She shivered in spite of the warm breeze flowing against her bare skin.
The light had fled from the sky when she reached the southern edge of Loch Lure, where the waters lapped the stony ledge of shore at the foot of the cliff. The edge of the trees curved out in a shallow bow, giving Lissa a breathtaking view of the waves, and the shore with its twin cliff a quarter of a mile across the water to the north. The stars were pricking out their pagan patterns of the constellations, but there was a faint glow above the sea to the west—just enough to show Lissa what was waiting for her at the bottom of the rocky stairway down to the water. She gasped, Oh, my God!
“Where to now, Ulysses, old boy?” Scott patted the stallion’s neck. There were no reins, so Scott was still depending on the training the horse was given for the last week to carry him to his lecherous goal. Ulysses wagged his head and picked out a slow, careful path west of the clearing, skirting the southern edge of Loch Lure.
The cliff-sheltered bay hugged the darkness close, hiding its secret until the moment chosen for rendezvous. As Scott approached the outward curving cliff, and the trail leading down to the shore, he heard rough, cruel voices—men singing bawdy sea-songs. Ulysses never hesitated when he reached the sloping stairway. He carefully set each hoof as he began his descent with Scott.
The voices were closer now, and Scott began to make out the words punctuated by rough male laughter and the occasional shriek of a terrified girl. It was an ancient sea-chant, something only remembered in history books or the penny-dreadful pulp magazines; adventure stories read in secret by pimply adolescents whose emerging puberty drove them to sate their fantasies. Scott remembered those nights concealed under his blanket, a downy-faced boy fondling his awakening manhood while reading of beautiful young girls abducted at sea, and their tragic fate.
A dark, sinister shape rocked gently on the waves in the center of the loch. A ghost, a phantom—Scott rubbed his eyes—it was still there when he looked again. A ship had been summoned from its grave in the sea, a ruthless and aggressive vessel that had struck terror into the hearts of thousands. Scott’s mouth formed the word, but no sound came out. The word was an icy claw that gripped his heart.
Pirates!
“Welcome to our little party.” A black silhouette stepped out of the shadow of the cliff and extended his hand. Scott could just make out the broad, whiskered face under the black tri-corner hat. “I’m Captain Gaspar of the French pirate ship Raoul. We be expecting ye, Scott.” The captain seemed to take no notice of Scott being totally naked.
Scott took his hand and shook it slowly. “Where did you people come from, and how did you know my name?”
“Never mind a’ that, my friend. The party is already started on my ship. Won’t ye join us as my guest?” He gestured to the rowboat on the shore. Two sailors sat inside, manning the oars. Starlight glinted on the gold rings in their ears, and made visible the bandannas tied around their heads.
The captain pulled Scott to the boat and helped him inside. They sat facing each other as the rowers propelled the boat out to the ship.
“What’s a pirate ship doing in Scotland in the year 1914?”
“What say ye?” Captain Gaspar replied. “Why, this is the year 1671, lad! Your mind must be fevered.” He laughed and clapped Scott on his shoulder. “Let go your thoughts, lad. This morning we captured a vessel carrying a cargo of beautiful young lasses to the new world to find husbands. Now they are our booty, and we mean to ravish them before selling the lot to Turkish slavers.”
“I can’t believe...”
“Silence that prattling tongue, lad. There’s nothing to explain. Ah! Here we are beside my ship. Climb up the ladder and feast yer eyes on the most beautiful females we ever captured.”
Scott and the pirates swarmed up the rope ladder and clambered onto the oaken deck. A row of thirty-seven girls, still in the last two years of their teens, stood along the length of the ship. Each weeping girl had her wrists lashed to the girl’s wrist next to her on each side. Their row was stretched out taut and the girls on the ends had their end wrist bound to a mast. Lissa was in the middle of the row, looking scared and bewildered. All the girls but Lissa were still fully dressed, but the sailors taunted them with the promise that that would soon be remedied.
Captain Gaspar handed Scott a sharp knife. “Ye have the honor of choosing yer own girl to fuck, lad. Make yer choice and we all will begin cutting off their clothes.” The sailors cheered and surged forward, impatient to claim their own victims.
“Thank you, captain,” Scott said. “I choose the blonde in the middle.”
“Aye, and so did we all. I’m sorry, Scott, but she’s mine. I’ll have a great time fucking her in my cabin. I’ll keep her tied on my bed until we reach the slavers in four day’s sailing. I’ll be sad to give her up, but that blonde-haired beauty is worth a sack full of gold to those horny villains.” He winked at Scott and pointed his dagger at the row of beauties. “Choose one. Quick lad, or there’ll be none left for ye.”
Scott looked into Lissa’s eyes and shrugged. He stealthily tapped his wristwatch...Later! He grinned at the captain and selected a
red-haired girl next to Lissa. “You.”
Her lower lip trembled uncontrollably. “No. Please, kind sir, I am the daughter of a noble, with royal blood in my veins. I was traveling to join my fiancée, the Marquee d’ Marmion. If you sully my body, he will launch his fleet and capture you. You all will be torn apart by wild horses in the courtyard of his castle!”
“Well, my beautiful and defenseless little prick teaser, since he will die more than two hundred years before I will be born, I have nothing to fear from him. Whatever magic or anomaly of science that brought me to this time and place clearly meant for me to enjoy molesting the carnal delights of your unprotected feminine intimacies.” Scott grasped a handful of her skirt and lifted it, revealing the slender curves of her legs.
“Oh, do not expose me, sir. I shall die of shame!”
“Look around you, girl. We will all be naked. We will all be the same. And I assure you that you shall not die, although you might wish to before this night is over.”
“No! Please! I assure you, sir, your fate will be worse than mine.”
“Do you think we are fools; that we would fail to take pleasure in your bodies after these pirates risked their lives to capture you girls? After they have made such an obvious display of their courage, what can you say to frighten us?”
Scott plunged his knife into the delicate silken fabric and hacked it apart with vicious delight. The deck quickly became littered with shreds and tatters as yard after yard of cloth fell fluttering from the girls’ bodies like wounded doves. When they were all naked, the sailors and the captain peeled off their clothes and cast them aside. In front of every girl’s vulnerable body an eager erection bobbed its impatient dance of lust. The air reeked with the pungent odor of testosterone.
The captain shouted out the most welcome command his crew ever obeyed;
“Take yer wench where you will, and do with her what pleases ye!” The knives cautiously severed the ropes binding the girls’ wrists together. The laughing sailors swept up their petite bodies in their powerful arms and carried them to their carnal fates. “Ye can use my first mate’s cabin, Scott. He’s going to suspend his captive from the yard arm and abuse her awhile before he fucks her.” He gestured toward the cabin door at the stern of the ship. “Next to my cabin, it is. Perhaps we shall trade beds when we weary of our own wench.”
“Scott!” Lissa cried, struggling hopelessly to escape the captain’s searching fingers. “Scott, why is this happening? Why are we trapped in the past? I don’t want to be sold into slavery!”
“Hush, ye beauty,” the captain growled. “Ye blather on with your foolishness just like Scott.”
Scott carried the trembling captive into the small, dark cabin. The large bed stood in one corner. It was easy to guess what treasures this pirate ship most often plundered. There were short chains bolted to each corner post, with iron manacles at their ends. Scott cast the poor girl down on her back and swiftly snapped the manacles around her wrists and ankles. She struggled a moment, then gave up in a burst of tears.
Scott sat down on the bed next to her, and gently caressed her cheek. “I don’t know how I got here,” he said, “and I don’t know how I will get back to my own time. But I am guessing the key to solving this puzzle and returning home lies in joining in the pirate’s revelry. That means fucking you, pretty little girl. I know this seems cruel and barbaric to you, but that’s the way life is in your time, when beautiful women like you risk capture by pirates, and are caught. You, the pirates, and this ship are all in my past, and I am far in your future. But I am convinced that some power, or some fate sent me back to fuck you. I wish I knew why.”
“I do not understand you, sir,” she said between her sobs. “You speak of strange things I cannot believe.”
Scott cradled his throbbing cock and displayed it before her eyes. “Believe this, then, my charming captive, and feel it looting pleasure from your pussy.” He swung his knees between the wide-eyed girl’s legs and lay his torso onto hers. Scott wrapped his arms under her fragile chest. Clasping his hands against the back of her head, he pressed the side of her face against his neck. “The more you struggle, the more this will hurt. Breathe deeply and let your body be free of your fears.”
Scott swung his hips slowly and delicately against hers, guiding his cock in a gentle arc across her lower belly and into the thatch of her pussy hair. “Your body was created to receive a man’s cock. There is nothing unnatural or morbid about what I am going to do with you.” He kissed her cloud of red hair, breathing his warm breath against it until her sobs subsided into shuddering sighs.
“I know you are terrified, and the sounds of the other girls screaming are disturbing. But you can’t help them. You can’t help yourself. Your body is my prisoner, and I am using it for my own pleasure. There is no guilt or shame for you to accept. This will be your fate for the rest of your life. Forget your marquee. Forget about getting married. Try to forget about your home and family. You will never see them again. Accept this, and perhaps you can learn to take pleasure in sexual surrender for yourself, too.”
With a sudden, vicious lunge, Scott’s cock rammed into her unprepared pussy. Her shriek bounced off the cabin walls and recoiled through the open window into the dark, and along the merciless darkness of the ship.
Her sisters in captivity joined in the chorus, adding their screams and shrieks of terror and shame. Scott could hear the steady, relentless cadence of a whip, taming some nameless beauty’s resistance. He matched the stroke of his cock to the measured rhythm of the girl’s punishment.
Scott’s captive flailed her head back and forth, rejecting the reality of his rigid erection violating her most intimate chamber. Her voice was a stream of wordless sounds; pain, terror, and pleading. Scott responded to her unwitting encouragement by accelerating the cycle of his pistoning cock, his moans and gasps signaling the approach of his orgasm.
With a final preamble of snarls and grunts, his torso and limbs went rigid and convulsed with shuddering convulsions. Scott’s roaring bellow proclaimed the onset of nature’s earthy sacrament of sex. A torrent of glutinous cum spouted from his cock-slit, fertilizing her enslaved pussy with a hundred thousand squirming torpedoes of sperm. Scott rocked and thrust, whacked his hips against her groin again and again while his shuddering cock-muscle pumped a stallion’s-worth of semen into the shrieking girl’s defenseless body.
Scott’s mind swirled back down to rest, and he slowly became conscious he was arched over the ravished girl. His arms were stiff and straight, supporting his weight above her. His torso bowed into a downward-curving crescent, keeping his still-twitching cock buried in her velvet clasp of Venus. His heaving chest pumped the ragged breath in and out of his burning lungs.
Scott slowly shook his drooping head, still taking in the ecstasy of fucking this petite, beautiful captive. His cock was still triggering an eruption of exploding stars in the sex-center of his bliss-battered brain. “Why couldn’t you have been born in my time?” he whispered. “I would joyfully make you my very own sex-slave in Blackthorne House and fuck you forever.”
The girl was sobbing, biting her lower lip to suppress her anguish.
“What a terrible fate girls of your time suffered,” Scott whispered, gently caressing her tear-drenched cheek. “Sold to Arabian slavers, doomed to live your shortened lives in some cruel sultan’s harem, abused by him and scorned by his wives. Or worse, to serve the lusts of Arab merchants and warriors while you’re chained down in a cubicle in some filthy oasis brothel.”
The girl swallowed her sobs long enough to speak. “Please, sir, how can you be so cruel, and yet pretend kindness while you are still hurting me?”
“I am not a pirate, Miss... what’s your name?”
“Reneé, sir.”
“Well, Reneé, that girl being raped by the captain is my cousin’s wife. She and I are going to escape. I will take you with me. I’ll bring you back home in my time period, and you will be safe from pirates and Ara
bian slave-traders.”
“Please sir, that would be wonderful. Can we leave right now?”
“No, not yet. My plan is to wait until the pirates have fucked themselves to exhaustion, and drank themselves into unconsciousness. Then you, Lissa, and I will row to shore in the boat.”
“Won’t the pirates chase us and catch us? They are terribly cruel to their prisoners who try to escape.”
“Do you want to stay here and let them sell you to men who believe women are animals to be penned up and whipped?”
“I see. We have nothing to lose.”
The rough, rum-sodden voice startled them. “What are you two whispering about?” Captain Gaspar stood in the doorway, his corpulent, naked body swaying with the rocking of the ship. His flaccid cock gleamed from the slick of pussy-juice still dripping from its tip.
Scott grinned disarmingly. “I was just delighting her with a description of what happens to pretty girls in the clutches of Arab slavers. It’s more fun to fuck girls when they are terrified.”
“Aye, that it is. And now would ye give me the pleasure of abusing that lass’s feminine charms? I’ll invite ye to sample that blonde beauty in my bed. She’s a hellion, Scott. Beware of her sharp teeth.” He rumbled with annoyance as he showed me the red crescents of Lissa’s bite-marks on his chest. “If I’d believed these were for spite instead of passion, I’d have slit her throat for the pain she caused me.”
“I’ll be careful,” Scott said. He raised up off Reneé and walked past the captain. As he closed the cabin door, he heard Reneé cry out as the captain heaved his sodden hulk of male flesh down on top of her.
Lissa’s naked body gleamed with perspiration in the flickering glow of the lantern. She tugged at her chains as Scott sat down on the bed beside her. “He was dreadful,” She whispered. “He’s a beast! He drank half a bottle of rum before he fucked me. His teeth are rotten, and his breath comes from the belly of a sewer. I was terrified he would vomit in my face.”
Bound For Pleasure at Blackthorne Page 38