Pirated Love

by K'Anne Meinel

  “Take her to my cabin,” she ordered one of the men, indicating Claire who was now wrapped and shivering in a blanket. He nodded as he solicitously helped the woman up.

  “Is that Black Betty?” Claire asked, as they made their way to the larger ship.

  The man nodded as he pushed his way past other pirates and men working to transfer booty and supplies as the smaller ship was slowly stripped of all usable rigging, supplies, and cargo.

  He showed her to a luxuriously furnished apartment with a large set of windows and an actual bed instead of the normal bunks that were found on a ship. This bed, Claire could see, was bolted to the floor as any furniture on a ship normally was to prevent it becoming a nuisance in bad weather. Men had been known to be crushed from moving cargo or gear caused by the battering that waves gave a ship. “If I were you, mademoiselle,” he began, in a French accent. “I would do ANYTHING the capitan asks of you.” He locked her inside and Claire shivered in a chair, refusing to lie on the bed, not knowing her fate. The little she had gleaned from what the captain had said was that she was valuable and they would be using her as a hostage. She wondered if her father would pay? She looked around the cabin at the shelves of books with a thin rail set up on the ledges to keep the books from falling off them. There were several cabinets and she wondered if they contained clothing or other personal items, but she did not explore. There was a large table bolted to the floor in the middle of the room with an odd little lip of wood around the edge and she realized this was so the dishes would not slide off onto the floor when they ate meals. A bench stood bolted to the floor on each side of the table and two chairs, one on each end, both elegantly appointed and plush. There were odd little hooks above head level in the walls and in the ceiling rafters, and she wondered at these as she glanced around.

  She finally stopped shivering enough that she stood up to look out the large window along the back of the apartment. She could look out over the smaller ship as the pirate ship had shifted forward a little in the current. She could clearly see the men who were moving cargo and booty to the pirate ship. The sailors were working to save their own lives for they knew the pirates would not hesitate to kill anyone reluctant to work. She could see where Edmund had been stripped down naked in front of the pirate captain. His white body was even uglier than his face. It was scrawny and the black hairs covered most of it, almost as a pelt to make up for the sparse facial hair. The little worm between his legs caught her attention with all his bragging. This was going to enthrall her? As little as she knew about men, after seeing the horrible thing that was the pirate’s manhood she instinctively knew that this little insipid thing would have been disappointing despite his boasts. She watched as the captain struck the man with her own fists repeatedly in the jaw, using both hands on each side of his face, then one to his stomach. As he bent over, she kneed him swiftly in the face causing his nose to spurt blood. With a flick of her head, she indicated to throw him overboard. Wiping her hands as though she had dirtied them, she looked around and then suddenly up, catching Claire looking down on the scene, before smiling insolently and turning deliberately away.

  The transfer of their booty was achieved in a relatively short time. The pirates were thorough and took nothing that did not have value. There was no point in hauling damaged goods or something with weight that would give them no profit. They stripped sails, took the extras, even fittings and hardware. The captain and her pirate crew left the long-boats for the crew of the British ship before going across to their own ship and unhooking the grappling hooks. The sailors who had cooperated were left aboard to decide the fate of those floating in the ocean as the pirate ship sailed away. Left with no sails, the ship was useless and they got out the long boats to put in the water. The pirate captain had left them three day’s rations and they were going to try to row to the nearest populated islands.

  * * * * *

  It was quite dark when Claire heard the door unlock and open. “Put it there.” She heard the curiously feminine voice of the captain and turned over from where she lay on the couch beside the window to see a pirate bring in a tray of food. Its aroma preceded it and Claire’s stomach rumbled. It smelled delicious, whatever it was. The pirate left almost immediately, bowing slightly to the captain who looked around and spotted Claire on the couch. Going to some of the lamps, she produced a sulfur match and lighted them one by one to bring light to the room. She walked over to Claire.

  “What is your name?” she asked in her upper crust British accent, which amazed Claire.

  “Claire Von Hagen, but my family and friends call me Claire,” she said quietly, wondering what would happen now.

  “Well, Lady Von Hagen, your fiancé was most forthcoming with information,” the captain told her, but did not continue telling with what information. “Come. Eat. I am sure you want to know what I have in mind for you,” she offered, as her hand indicated the food on the table and her other hand was held out to help her rise from the settee. Claire appreciated the courtesy, but found it odd that a woman dressed as a man would offer it.

  They sat down to a delicious stew of meat and vegetables, wholesome fare for a ship, with biscuits that were flaky and bug-free and apparently fairly fresh. Claire had not eaten this well since she had boarded her own ship and she ate heartily, the food wonderful and filling. The captain was amused as she watched her captive eat with gusto, but then she ate just as much. Claire noted the captain was fastidious, using a napkin on her lap, her pinky finger outstretched as she sipped at tea or wine, unconsciously feminine in her eating habits. Claire herself still had the blanket wrapped around her torn dress and felt outclassed at this table despite the captain being dressed in men’s clothing.

  The captain allowed her to fill her belly before talking to her. “Now, we will not be getting anywhere near your father’s island to demand a ransom. This could take months, depending on your father,” she explained. “You have a choice though.”

  Claire listened appreciatively at the civil tone of the captain. She was being treated with respect and courtesy and had nothing to prepare her for what the captain further told her.

  “You can service my crew as the only female available to them, or you can service me for the duration of your stay.” She waited for this to sink in to her captive’s mind.

  Claire’s eyes opened wide making her look like a doe as the meaning of the words penetrated her mind. The warm and delicious food had lulled her into a state where she had thought she would be safe and protected until her ransom was paid. The thought of men raping her over and over again certainly did not appeal. She had thought the captain, being a woman, she would be safe from any physical harm. She had no idea what two women did together; she could not begin to understand that part of the captain’s offer. “Service you?” she asked, hesitantly, as though to clarify the proposition.

  The captain smiled. It made her striking face beautiful. Her red hair was tied back now, but it still flowed down her back and her darkly tanned features looked very attractive in the lamp light. “Aye, I am sure you do not know what that entails, but I assure you I enjoy both men and women’s bodies, and you will enjoy my attentions more than you will my crew’s,” she guaranteed her.

  “I can take care of your apartment for you...?” she began, hoping against sinking hope that the woman did not mean what she was implying. She remembered the warning she had received from the pirate earlier, to do whatever the captain demanded.

  The captain laughed. “Nay, I assure you, I do not mean that. I mean you will have sexual relations with me,” she said properly, in her upper crust tones. There was a hint of another accent though, not completely British.

  There it was, spelled out for Claire to understand. She had a choice of being raped repeatedly by the crew-they would not kill her, she knew, because of the ransom-or succumbing to the captain. She had heard that sailor crews were notoriously dirty and unclean and had diseases. She had no idea of what she could easily catch, but having rel
ations with another female? It was a sin, was it not? She thought hard, back to the teachings of her church, and she was sure it was a sin to sleep with someone of the same gender. Sleeping with the crew, even one of them, would dirty her, ruin her in the eyes of the church, her fiancé, and her father. She shuddered at the thought of one of them, much less the many, touching her. The alternative was death and she had no chance of dying, that she could tell; she was too valuable. She reluctantly nodded, numbly, resignedly, realizing her fate was not her own, and feeling helpless again.

  “I want you to tell me exactly, so there is no misunderstanding between us,” the captain stated, looking at her closely as she examined the pretty blonde’s countenance.

  “I will service you for the duration of my stay,” Claire said quietly, almost in a whisper, horrified at what she had just agreed to.

  The captain did not smile at her capitulation, but her eyes did gleam in an odd way. She nodded once as a knock sounded on her door and she called, “Come in.”

  “Done with your dinner, sir?” a pirate stood where he had just opened the door.

  She nodded shortly. “Tell the cook it was absolutely delicious, as always.”

  He smiled, showing half his teeth missing. “I will tell him, but his head will swell. He knows we stay because of his cooking!” he teased, as he gathered their used dishes.

  “Just because of his cooking?” the captain asked, with an eyebrow raised.

  He laughed, knowing she was teasing. Already the men were thrilled with the lot they had to sell off from the capture of the British ship and one before it. They all anticipated having gold in their pockets and soon. He left and she rose to lock the door from the inside with a very odd little bolt. Sitting down again, she used a boot jack to begin to pull off the boots that went up to her knees from her slim calves. It, like everything else, was bolted to the floor. She sighed as she put her boots next to the bed and stretched and in an odd little gesture, wriggled her toes.

  Claire had watched the teasing exchange between the captain and one of her pirates with surprise. The man had been respectful, but able to tease the woman without reprisal, familiar and yet deferential. This captain was like no woman she had ever met. Even at boarding school where she had met women from all over England, she had met no woman this masculine. In a society where women were always deferential to men, she was puzzled.

  The captain next took off the crossed swords from her back, slinging off the belt, holding first one and then the other from around her torso and slinging them over the bedstead within easy reach. Next she removed the sword belt, which also contained a knife, from around her waist. Turning, she looked thoughtfully at her captive and said, “Come here.”

  Claire got up from her chair and walked to stand in front of the taller woman. It was only now that she was so near that she realized the woman was much taller. She tried to look in her eyes to read what her intent was and was startled to realize the intensity of the green in them, flecked with brown near the pupil. The woman smiled slightly as she took in the looks of the smaller blonde woman who was wearing her blanket around herself like a toga-armor to protect herself.

  The captain captured Claire’s waist suddenly with her arm and pulled her close against her own body. Taking advantage of Claire’s surprise, she grabbed the other side of her face with her free hand and leaned in for a kiss. Claire was shocked to feel the warm and supple lips of her captor on her own. She had only felt a few stolen kisses from her fiancé in her entire life and, as he had been so totally repugnant, had never enjoyed any of them. This was different. The captain was gentle; she kissed firmly, coaxingly, with the unschooled blonde. She pulled back momentarily to gauge Claire’s reaction before smiling gently and kissing her again, this time a little more forcefully. Claire began to enjoy the feeling. Her lips were not at all repugnant. They were firm, smooth, and slightly moist, but she still felt strange to be kissing a woman. She was not sure that there was not something wrong in this. Slowly, the captain coaxed her mouth open and gently teased at her lips with her tongue. Claire did not realize it as the captain got her to open her jaw to slip her tongue inside and gently begin to probe, playing delicately with her own tongue, teasing it to come out and play in her mouth as well. Once Claire realized what the captain wanted, she surprised herself by thrusting her own tongue inside the captain’s mouth. She was astonished how delicious it tasted to her, the remnants of the wine they had drunk at dinner, and something more. The captain responded by pulling her body tighter to her own and deepening the kiss. Claire could hear the captain’s breathing as it too, deepened.

  Slowly, the captain pulled away, holding Claire close as she looked deeply into the blonde’s blue, innocent eyes. She smiled slightly as she examined Claire’s face at close quarters, breathing in her essence. Her nose twitched slightly. “Would you like to take a bath?” she asked, gently.

  Surprised to be asked this, Claire nodded slightly, bemusedly.

  Gently the captain released her, making sure she was steady on her feet before letting her go completely. She turned to go to a cabinet in the wall and opened its doors to reveal a tub that swung down. Turning the faucets on, water began to fill the tub and she pushed a cork into a hole in the bottom. She turned to an astonished Claire and smiled. “Clever, is it not? I had a shrewd man design what I described. The kitchen and the rainwater tanks are above this area and these pipes siphon off water, not too much mind you. After all, we need water to drink. But once a week it is nice to take a freshwater bath, eh?”

  Claire looked as the water gushed into the small tub and realized it was large enough for a person to sit in quite comfortably. It really was clever and she looked wonderingly at the pipes that went up and into the wall.

  “When we are done with our baths, I pull the cork and the water siphons off out to sea and we swing the tub back up into the wall cabinet,” the captain explained, proud of the invention.

  “We?” Claire asked.

  “Well, it is a sin to waste water here where it is so hard to obtain. We collect the rainwater as much as possible in large cisterns mounted above us,” she indicated the decks above. “And this is mainly used for drinking and cooking. As very few of my men bathe once a week, if at all-and then they usually use sea water-I keep it down for myself to once a week. When you are finished with your bath I will take mine, as I am sure you would not be willing to share.” She smiled wickedly and her eyes twinkled at the blonde. She was pleased to see the startled look in Claire’s eyes.

  Claire had never thought of taking a bath with someone else. Her own had always been private and usually with her shift still on. Her shift was now ruined by that pirate who had been about to rape her and the ministrations of the others eager to get at her body. The captain’s suggestion shocked her and when she saw the amusement she turned away, blushing.

  “Take off your clothes and get in. I have some soap here,” the captain indicated a jar she had pulled from a cabinet.

  “M-m-my clothes?” she stuttered.

  The captain looked at her again and nodded. “Aye, all of them.”

  “I do not have anything to bathe in,” she protested.

  The captain grinned. “You will not be bathing in any.”

  Claire’s eyes opened wide in consternation at the suggestion. She could not remember the last time she had been naked, fully naked. She glanced from the filling tub to the captain and looked away, blushing.

  The captain turned off the water and turned each of the fixtures extra tight to make sure they would not be dripping. She tested the water with a finger and nodded. Looking up at her captive, she was annoyed that Claire had made no move to remove even a shred of clothing, much less the blanket. “Remove your clothing,” she commanded. She waited a moment before adding, “Or have you changed your mind about our deal? I assure you, my men will not care whether you bathe or not?”

  Claire slowly shook her head. She hesitated a moment before attempting to open the blanket she ha
d wrapped around her, hiding the torn blouse of her dress. When the captain moved slightly away, she quickly unbuttoned her blouse, despite the tear, and slipped out of it and her skirt. The captain was watching her out of the corner of her eye, but appeared to be busying herself with looking in another cabinet. Claire unhurriedly unbuttoned her torn shift, noting that she might be able to sew it if she could find sewing materials. She removed this and her other underclothes quickly and grabbed up the blanket to hide her nearly naked body.

  “Are you going to bathe in that blanket?” the captain asked with a hint of sardonic amusement in her voice as she turned back to look at Claire.

  “N-n-no,” she returned, as she sat on the edge of the bed to roll off her stockings carefully, one at a time, not realizing how intensely erotic it looked, as the captain narrowed her eyes appreciatively. She pulled the blanket up to remove the garters and the captain got a view of her lovely legs for the first time. With the garters gone, she had nothing left to delay her getting in the tub. She could see that the captain was not going to turn away she had a strange glint in her brilliantly green eyes. ‘I am not going to let her scare me anymore,’ thought Claire, as she walked bravely to the tub and, turning her back, dropped the blanket and got in. The water was warm, almost hot, and she gasped!

  “I said the water came from the kitchens as well as the rain barrels,” the captain chuckled. “The water is heated in a cistern behind the stove so we always have hot water for coffee and tea, and when I need a bath.”

  Claire was amazed, used to servants bringing in buckets of what had started as hot water from the kitchen to her room and pouring it in a barrel lukewarm, she thought this idea innovative. She liked the feel of the very warm water on her body and began to relax a little.