Keith Jones – Pirate
Fooks – Gunnery
Terry Brakston - mate
Micky Folliger – new mate
Big George - crew
Monique Debeer – governess (30+)
Madrigal – brown hair eldest sister (19)
Melissa – light brown hair second sister (17)
Angela – blonde third sister (15)
April – light black maid (17)
May – flat and black haired maid (17)
June – brown haired (17)
Augusta – pale hair( 39)
Zanubia – pale straw hair (25)
Nell – cook
Bill Non-mad Bill to distinguish him – handiman and husband to Nell
The ship was well-armed, he could see that through the telescope. Well-armed and alone. So; what prompted a ship to carry a lot of guns but not sail with a navy escort? Was it hoping to be less visible as a single ship but still able to fight off a chance encounter?
The last naval escorted convoy had run into an English squadron and had, as a result, been engaged as the enemy. Single merchant ships were, so far, unmolested by the regular navy, but of course they then found themselves prey to the pirates. It was a risky, but very lucrative business running the Spanish, French, and Portugese empires in South and Central America.
He stood beside the helmsman, offering occasional advice to adjust course slightly. The aim was to keep all sail and make the maximum use of the wind to catch the quarry. Once again, the well-dressed captain of this ship amused himself by thinking how this kind of hunting was similar to stag-hunting, but could last days rather than hours. Sometimes the quarry escaped at night by dousing all their lights, sometimes the quarry was fooled by the hunter dousing their lights and sending a lit pinnace in a different direction. Sometimes a storm saved the day, and sometimes it destroyed all chance of escape. He almost enjoyed the chase more than the capture at the end. His crew didn’t, they enjoyed the rampage through the ship, the discovery of valuables.
Some enjoyed the torture and violence too. He kept an eye on those; the ones who would make the crew walk the plank simply for the fun of it. He never did that; as long as they were willing, forthcoming and compliant, he would give them a chance to join him or a chance in an open boat. Killing for the sake of it wasn’t part of his nature. It had made him something of a legend. As had his success. He was one of the richest pirates – which meant, as he knew, that he was in danger of being betrayed for a reward. He stayed generous to his crew, not greedy; that way he hoped to maintain a loyal team.
He was also hoping that the vague hostilities between the various powers might break out into full war, then one side or the other might look to employ him as a privateer captain. He didn’t need more money, he needed an escape clause now; otherwise hung, drawn and quartered, or tied to a stake at low tide or similar endings, were the likely epitaph to his life.
“Cap’n. We’re gaining; when shall we open fire?”
Captain Jones looked again, there was puff of smoke, the ball on a low trajectory might bounce off the water and reach them; but accuracy would be poor and damage light at this range. “Load the two sisters with double powder, we’ll give them a shock. They might strike their colours” He didn’t think they would, but it was worth a try.
The sisters were meaty bastards; they fired forward rather than broadside because their kick back was massive. But sometimes the enemy was so shocked to be within range already that they would lose heart and allow themselves to be captured without a fight. Merchants, especially, hoped for kinder treatment that way; and often got it from him.
When he’d taken this ship, acquired? Stole? Who knows what the correct term was; he’d been an assistant to Mad Bill for a couple of years and the crew began to realise that Bill was drunk and disabled more than he wasn’t. When the cannon ball took his head off there were few who shed a tear. When he’d taken over – by virtue of simply saying “I’m in charge now, anybody arguing?” (a couple did, brothers; they launched themselves at him and he demonstrated a fine ability at unbridled fighting. One lost his leg and Keith Jones threw him over the side, the sharks smelled the blood and quickly arrived, by that time the other was floating headless beside his brother) – he had moved them to a more organised, trained crew. After the initial bellyaching, when they took more prizes with fewer injuries, they came to accept him as the natural leader.
He had created the role of Gunnery Sergeant for Fooks (no first name; never, ever, had one it seemed). Fooks was good with the guns. He fired the sisters and they watched the splashes near their target. The explosion of the two guns was deafening. The ship did not strike sail. The chase would continue.
It took another day to catch the ship near nightfall. The doused their lights to make a less good target and shadowed the ship as it grew dark. Then the small, fast pinnaces were unshipped and loaded with men. A night attack was often unexpected for some reason. The assumption was that the pirates would await dawn to renew the attack. Actually, by dawn the fight had gone out of the merchant crew.
The sun rose and the Devil’s Seahorse slid closer to the ship whose crew were killed, injured or surrendered.
“Gentlemen” announced Jones “You have a genuine choice. I -”
“CAP’N. COME SEE!” announced the Mate. The rule was that, once surrendered, the crew were confined below until the pirate captain was aboard. It avoided the unpleasantness of general massacre and mayhem that sometimes resulted from the bloodlust of the crew. Then the Mate and a party began to search the ship. Officers of the captured prize were ‘invited’ to divulge where the valuable goods were stowed. The First Officer lay on the deck bleeding, an arm broken. He had mentioned gold before fainting with pain.
“Look ‘ere sir” The mate showed his captain an unexpected prize. In the captain’s cabin a small group were cowering in a corner, an old man stood in front of them holding a sword hopelessly. He knew he would die if he fought these ruffians, but he knew that honour decreed he had to defend the women. The group was made up of six younger women and a striking older women of thirty. It was plain from their dress that three girls were higher class and three maids. The older woman was in plain black, she was a governess.
The mate expressed his utter contempt for the old man by ignoring him entirely.
“Sir” said Jones “You stand no chance. Indeed, if you fight, there is a danger that the women might get hurt. Put up your sword and you shall not die. I give my word”
“I will not let you misuse my daughters sir”
“Ohh, well then your fatalistic stance is understandable. But, honestly, you will not help them by dying.
Ladies, I appeal to you, tell your father to put up his sword” Captain Keith noticed the eye movements of some of the girls, not the ones he would have expected. He smiled “How would it be if I promised that we would only rape the serving girls?” The girls all looked at each other, wide eyed. The old man realised his mistake.
The mate had been sidling sideways. Now he launched himself and the man’s sword clattered uselessly to the ground, followed by the man himself.
Jones went to the girls and took their hands “As I thought, these are not the hands of a servant, they are smooth and clean. You dressed the servants as the ladies and visa versa. Not a bright move really. Still... “ He helped the father up “At least you tried”
At that moment, the gold was discovered. The crew went wild, there was money beyond their wildest dreams. This was the kind of prize that was rarely found. “Why so much gold and so unprotected?” Jones asked the old man
“Sir Adrian Dunbar at your service. We had thought to slip away without the governor realising, and return to England. Yes, I’m English. Our family has been making the Spanish a fortune by showing them how to farm more efficiently; but they would not allow us to leave with my fortune. I made the mistake of being too successful and making enemies. Now I have lost everything”
“Just so” An idea was occurring to him. Yes, why not.
“As I was saying to your crew. GENTLEMEN! Yes, you have a choice. You can join us, we always need new crew – I will not pretend. The life of a pirate can be quite short; or you can leave. We will put all who wish to leave into a pinnace with some food and drink. Land is not so far away, though you “ he indicated the old man “may find the welcome back by the Spanish to be less than effusive.
I’ll even give you some gold to purchase a passage home, if you survive. You might be able to raise a ransom to rescue your daughters?” He returned to speaking to the whole assembly
“As you see, the rewards can be great; though they are rarely this rich, and you will not share in this prize of course. This ship will be worth keeping, so I need more crew. Consider.
Now, to my crew. I have a proposition” The captain’s propositions were rarely debateable “I will give up my half of the prize; the gold that is. All the money will be divided amongst you all. How does that sound?” It sounded excellent, they realised there had to be a catch “In exchange, I keep the women. You would only ruin them in any case. With the money you have, when we reach Barbuda you can each buy women who will do all you can imagine and more. Any objections?”
Well, there were some objections, but none voiced. A few of the crew had hoped to be able to take a pretty young virgin and rip into her untouched cunt while she struggled and whimpered. Still, realistically, there were only a few men could have one; there being only seven. And it was true about the money.
“There are about 100,000 pieces of gold. You sure you want to give up half that?”
“Fuck! 100,000? You counted them?”
“Estimated ... You’ll lose half your crew, you know that? They’ll clear off with that amount, and leave you the rest”
“I suppose I’ll have to take that chance. And some of the captured crew will join. I gave them an offer -”
“Give them another, with no alternatives”
“- no, I can’t. I’m known for keeping my word.
Where’s the master?”
The master and the captain of the captured ship were brought to him. “Well, how many will join you, do you know?”
“You really intend letting us go free?” Asked the master
“Yes. Here.” He gave the captain a compass. Antigua is South by South East. Further, but safer for English I’d say. Wait...”
He went to the table and wrote a letter, sealed it, and handed it over. “Give this to the governor of the island if you reach it”
The pinnace was a little overloaded, but with careful sailing it would reach its destination. The crew watched with catcalls and ruderies as it sailed away. Jones watched in silence, then split the new crew and the old, put half on each ship and told them to keep each other in sight. Then they set sail for the pirate island. He went below on the new ship, to the captain’s cabin, where the girls were still clustered in one corner.
“Ladies, like the crew, and your father who has just sailed away, you have a choice or two. The crew were allowed to join or leave. Your father can raise a ransom or remarry and raise a new family.” One of the daughters had already realised that, the other two had not thought of that as an option. The servants knew ransom was not amongst their choices; they had come to terms with their likely fate.
“You have a choice too. As you may have heard, I traded you for my share of the gold. That assumes I have control over you. In a sense I do. I can keep you or give you away.
Hands up, if you please, if you are not a virgin” no hands moved. He looked at the governess, who slowly half-raised her hand. “That’s what I thought, the rest of you are untouched? Even the servants? Good.
Well, you can all do whatever I say, when I say, with no question or demure. Or...
Or I can give you to the crew, who will make you do the same things over and over as you will have to do for me. Or I could sell you in Barbuda – the result would be the same for you.”
Some looked a little confused. They knew they were about to lose their virginity, but what did he mean by ‘things’. “Let me be clearer. If I want you to suck my cock, if I want to fuck you up that other hole -” still confusion “- your fundament? Your shitter! Ah, dawn at last!
Oh yes, perfectly possible and really quite pleasurable – for me. I will not force you to the point of damage. The crew will not be so delicate. You will find yourself being invaded front and back, whilst choking on a massive cock and rubbing two with your hands. One I can think of “ he meant Big George “would almost certainly split you open.
Once that happens, you are liable to die a slow, painful death I’m afraid. If the crew don’t tire of you and put some cuts on your body, throw you over and bet on how long you survive before the sharks get you. As I say, they aren’t civilised”
“And you are? You are a monster” said one of the girls dressed as a maid but in reality a lady of breeding. Keith lunged forward and grabbed her arm, drew her unwillingly out of the group and then slapped her so hard she fell over.
“Do not mistake my politenesss for docility, my dears.
You can choose. Those who wish to stay, move over to the table. Those who wish to become crew fodder, stay as you are” Nobody moved at first. They were frozen with fear? Surely they weren’t all volunteering to become unpaid whores for the crew? Then the governess woke up from her daze.
“Girls, come, do you wish to be assaulted by all and sundry – and smelly ones at that?” She moved herself to the table, and the others followed almost immediately. They stood clustered at the table now. Like sheep he thought to himself; and, like sheep, they will do as they are told once one goes the right way.
“You? Name?” He was looking at the governess
“Mrs Debeer, Monique Debeer”
“Well, Monique. How often did you suck your husband’s cock?”
“Never! He never! I mean! No! He was a good man. We were married two years before he was taken from me by the fever”
“I’m sorry for your loss. So you never sucked him off? I guess you didn’t give him your little brown pucker then either?”
“No, no, and did he ever lick your lovely cunt before fucking you?” She looked shocked at the language, and at being publically questioned on her sexual habits with her husband. She was tempted to refuse to answer but it was too late, she’d already answered personal questions; and it was clear a refusal would be met with violence.
“No, I always lay on my back and he atop me. The way the church has ordained it should be”
“Well, you’re free of the church now.
I had hoped you would be able to provide instruction to these innocents. Ah well, you still can, I can tell you what to do and you can do it ... You two!” a couple of the girls jumped at being directly addressed. “Undress her. No! I want them to undress you, not you to do it”
Most of the girls were horrified, but, truth be known, there was a shiver, a frisson, of excitement at the prospect of whatever was to follow. The girls thought they could stand to allow their governess (for the three daughters) and their superior (for the servant girls) being forced to commit unspeakable acts. One, at least, was hoping she would be allowed to watch; it had not occurred to the others that they might have to watch. They had not thought about it.
Monique Debeer stood rigidly, attempting to display sang froid as her clothes were peeled from her body. She soon stood in her white cotton underclothes, her lower article plainly stained yellow from the involuntary evacuation of her bladder from fear. She was aware of this, but chose to ignore it and hope the others did.
“Well?” said Keith
The two girls looked at him, surely he did not mean? He did, he meant completely undressed! Oh shock! Diffidently they removed her chemise to reveal her womanly breasts. Monique covered herself with her hands. Then they picked at the damp ties that held her lower clothing.
“Stop being so diffident you silly girls. If you don’t get them off her soon, I’ll have you unty the knots with your teeth.” They hurried now; and there was Monique Debeer naked. She tried to cover herself, but he told her to stand still.
“You are an attractive woman, though I don’t suppose you see that as a compliment from me. Now,” he freed his cock and the six young women saw their first male penis, several wondered how he could pee like that, not realising that the erect nature was not its natural state “Now, come here, kneel and take it into your mouth.”
She hesitated, moved slowly forward. As she knelt, Jones pushed a cushion under knees “We want you to be comfortable don’t we?
Now, you can use your lips to rub up and down the shaft; you can allow your teeth to gently stroke the shaft; and – HEH! YOU!” A girl was looking away “You watch, so you know how to do it. When I come Monique, don’t swallow!” She hadn’t even realised that the end result was going to be him expelling his semen into her mouth; let alone swallow! “This wee bitch wants to know what it tastes like. So you will stand and kiss her, open mouthed, and transfer as much as you can into this delicate little flower.
Where was I? Oh yes, and you can use your tongue to play on the head, the tip. Yes, yes, that’s good. Don’t stop!
As to how much to take in. Well, unless you are well-experienced you won’t get it all in. Some skilful whores can open their throats and allow even the longest dong in; but you’d choke if you tried. Choke or throw-up.
Move in and out, like your mouth is your cunt. Better ... you need lots of practice.
Now, another pleasantness is to move out sometimes and focus your mouth on the tip, and allow you hand to rub up and down the shaft. Yes! Do it! Yes, like that; well done.” He liked to encourage people when he could.
“You, yes, silly girl. What’s your name?”
He liked that, polite, he wouldn’t beat her. “Well, Angelica, you’d better come here, yourrr. Oh yes, your neeeearly needed to coollect your reward” And then he came.
The girls watched in mixed horror and fascination as he involuntarily thrust foward into Monique Debeer’s mouth. They felt drawn to watch the events unfolding, even as their well-bred, religious upbringing (both upper and lower classes) told them they should be appalled. She tried to pull back, but he held her head as his muscle spasms pumped a load of semen into her mouth. When he stopped; he smiled and looked at her “Okay, you’ve not swallowed? Good.” He stretched his arm to the girl who was hanging back, grabbed her hair and pulled her in “Kneel and kiss your governess. Open your mouth you silly cow. Now, if you spill any of it, if you wretch it up, or if you make anything like a grimace, I’ll beat you, hard. Make like you love the taste and feel of my spunk sliding onto your tongue. In time you will get used to it I’m sure” The girl felt the jelly like substance being gratefully pushed into her mouth from Monique’s. She made a noise, which could have been “hhmmm” and could be interpreted as vaguely pleased. Then she struggled and finally swallowed. The horror she might have felt at such an erotic kiss with a woman (or anyone not married to her) was subsumed by the fact of being forced to consume the spermatic products from her mouth.
“Well done you two, there is wine on the dresser there. You may want to wash the taste away.
I have to check our position. Monique, feel free to dress again; I won’t be fucking any of you quite yet. When you are all dressed, come up on deck for some fresh air” And with that, he left.
True to his word, the female captives were left unassailed. At the governess’s behest, they steeled themselves and made their way to the deck where they were instantly aware of tens of male eyes peering at them, mentally undressing them, and, it was very clear, mentally doing things to them that the women would not enjoy greatly.
Big George walked past, reached into his trousers and produced the reason (one of the reasons, he was a big man overall) for his nickname. The girls blanched both at the crude exposure of his penis and at the massive size. “Now George, don’t scare the girls. They’d never survive that thing would they? I don’t think my horse would survive that!”
George roared with laughter at what he took to be a compliment to his size, and went on to take the helm as his watch.
“He means well. Well, he doesn’t mean any worse than any of the others. I hope now you begin to comprehend why my option to keep you all to myself – disgusting monster though I be – is to your advantage”
The seven women had to admit, it probably was. Even if they had to suck his cock like the governess has, and submit to their bottoms being invaded in rude and crude manners, it was probably better than if they were continually raped by these stinking dregs.
“From now on, you should not think of mistress and servant; all are servants, to obey in an instant and to help with the domestic arrangements if necessary - “ he was aware that a couple weren’t listening; they were watching a man perch on the edge of the ship. “ah yes, we may need to supply buckets for you to shit and piss in I suppose. Can’t have you hanging your pretty arses over the edge and getting splinters can we?”
The girls who had been servants found themselves sniggering slightly. Perhaps it wouldn’t be quite so bad. The three upper-class girls looked on and wondered how bad it could get; the very thought of hanging their naked bottoms over the edge to piss or shit (though they didn’t actually think ‘those’ words) was unimaginable. Or would have been a few hours ago. Only a few hours ago, they would have seated themselves on a china pot and one of these servants would have reached round to wipe them. They were under no illusions that the three servants had, if not risen to their own status, at least equalised the status to one level.
They watched the ship’s operation for a while, contemplated how their lives had changed, and wondered what the pirate captain would require them to do. Some had little or no imagination and their thoughts extended as far as doing ‘that thing’ he had made their governess do and being made to have sex with him whenever he wanted. Others had far more imagination and were able to contemplate all manner of quite awful activities. One had a reverie – or perhaps a daymare if such things can be said – about being made to eat another’s faeces. Where the idea came from is hard to imagine, perhaps it said something of her inner psychology.
They reached the semi-mythical island of Barbuda a few days later, during the whole journey the girls had expected at any moment to be violently and viciously assaulted, and been kept in a state of nervous tension when it did not happen.
Barbuda – an island with a harbour second to none. It had been a volcano once, now the caldera was flooded with a narrow entrance protected by cannon and mortar batteries, and a boom across. No unwelcome ship would make it through. The harbour was the only safe landing, the outer fringe of the island was rocky and wild, shelving steeply so there was no good anchorage. Here was where the pirates came to rest, recuperate, spend their ill-gotten gains (necessitating further depredations on the honest shipping), and re-provision. This latter was why Keith Jones was as rich as he was. Instead of spending all his plunder on high-class prostitutes, low-class whores, and gut-rot rum, he had invested. He had loaned money to impoverished captains to replenish their ships, he had invested in the whorehouse (so his own crew would end up passing their winnings back to him via a woman’s well-used cunt), and finally he and a couple of other far-sighted pirates had invested in the bank. That bank opened branches in more reputable places to preserve the money of ‘honourable’ people. They also had an association with a bank with branches in London, Paris, and Venice. Their letters of credit always passed muster. And their ships miraculously carried their own gold to London unhindered. When the brief reign of Barbuda came to an end, the bank sailed on under a new name which will be well known to many in the 21st Century.
The port was a shit hole of cheap whores selling their bodies on the streets; cheap bars selling rum and whores, places that made the ships seem palaces; and victualling companies with well-armed guards. Around this was the town, ranging from poor quality pubs, shops, hostels and houses to the outer limits where the well-off had their shore bases. This was where Captain Jones had his house. It was a walk up the hill, but the air wasn’t thick with the smell of shit and the sound of cursing, and the view was surprisingly good, even the town looked picturesquely tumbledown from here.
To the house he came with his prizes, they were not bound or chained. They had all come to realise that running away was a sentence to a very, very, unpleasant life rather than living with him which would simply be unpleasant, or at most very unpleasant. There was a mile between one very and two.
The one thing to be relied on in Barbuda was that the houses were safe. Not just some kind of honour among thieves. If a man robbed or raped another’s possession, where could he go? The last time it had happened – the thief and his wife (who was probably not really an accomplice, but that’s the way it goes), were dragged across the coral reef near the mouth of the harbour (another, natural, defence) and left naked on the razor sharp coral. Every step was agony, but to stay still was to be stung by jellyfish. They took two days to die. The message was well-learned by all.
It would be unexpected that they all fitted into total obedience immediately. They were more than capable of rebelling over his demands. The first rebellion came about over an unexpected and rather innocent demand.
“No! I shall not demean myself, indeed I shall not! I am, or I was, expected to marry a lord, a Baron or even an Earl! No! No! No!”
Madrigal had not been asked to bend over backwards and suck off the captain whilst fingering her tight little arse; nor anything like it. She had been told to help clean up the house. More specifically to dry up the myriad dishes that now were needed at meal times. Previously the couple of old servants had coped admirably with his meagre demands when ashore, now there were rather a lot of people to accomodate, clothes to wash, food to prepare, dishes to wash. Thus Keith Jones, pirate, showed a concern for the domestic arrangements of his staff and ‘suggested’ the captives helped. There was, and was to be, no distinguishing between well-born and low-born, all were treated the same. Madrigal objected even though she was being offered one of the easier jobs, scrubbing the pots and pans was a horrible, hands ruining, function (it would have to be circulated amongst them).
“Madrigal, Madrigal. Please have a care and think before you object too much. I appreciate this is a change for you, but you have to learn to obey me. You all do. And since you are refusing, I cannot let it go unpunished. Will you please reconsider?” She was obdurate. “Well then, take her please, hold her tight!”
If anything, the two sisters held Madrigal tighter and more firmly than the others, If anything they delighted more than the others in stripping her naked. If anything they gained more pleasure than the others in seeing her secured to the table, arms and legs tied to the legs of the table; though it is true they all – including the governess – found the exposure of her naked cunny to his view, and that of the old cook and her husband, provided another frisson, a shiver, of delight. The old woman looked at her husband and then at his well tented trousers and said “You old goat, think that’s there for you do you? You’ll be lucky. The only free cunt you’ll ever get is mine” He had lost the bottom of his left leg to a gangrenous wound and that had ended his piracy (and rape and pillage) days. Now he had to pay for his pleasures at the brothel or make use of the old womans ancient, loose cunt.
“A man can dream, my dear. A man can dream”
“Sorry, Max. I gave my word I would not give these women away, tempting as it might be to see your withered old buttocks fucking that sweet bitch for the first time.” He went out and came back with some surgeons tools, what devilish torture did he intend? Out of the rolled up pack he extracted four pairs of tweezers.
“You women; not you cook, the rest of you, can take it in turns to use these. I want this bird plucked, one hair at a time.
Not her head you silly, her bush. Go on”
Four of them took the tweezers and each pulled a hair out. It wasn’t painful. After all, they had all plucked their eyebrows before. There was just the hint of a pin prick each time. As time went on though, the pin pricks seemed to get sharper. The skin got red and sensitive and reacted more each time a hair was tweaked from her intimate region.
“I want her bald when I get back.” And with that he left to negotiate for some more powder. The cook dragged her old satyr of a husband out of the kitchen and to their bedroom, where she proceeded to offer him a gold piece to satisfy her lust. Paid to fuck! Things didn’t get much better than that; though he had to work hard for his money. When he was allowed to enter her she had come a couple of times and was nicely lubricated rather than the dry channel she found she usually was. If he imagined he was fucking the pretty virgin in the kitchem well, why need the cook worry? She was still getting a good seeing to.
Madrigal thought at first she was easily able to cope with this punishment, the shame of being exposed to the view and subsequent erection of that disgusting old man was far worse. She wished it was over so she could cover up her body. As time went on she began to wish it was over because of the stinging pain that grew there. Now she forgot what she was exposing and began to wish it was over because of the hurt. There can be a lot of pubic hairs in a girl’s groin, and the girls and governess had no illusions that if they did a bad job they might be next; so the plucking was detailed and very thorough. As they plucked her bush away, her intimate genitals became more visible, which was source of prurient interest for the two sisters and the governess, none of whom had ever properly examined such female equipment. The same cannot be said for the maids who had lived in rooms sharing with others since they were young and had seen and had to show all that a girl might have from an early age (both to sisters and brothers usually).
Madrigal was red and sore when Jones returned. They had left her tied to the table when they had finished, unsure if they were meant to leave her or release her. Perhaps he would insist on deflowering her naked cunny? But no, he came back, examined her with approval, finding not one hair remaining, and promptly released her. “I think we can agree that drying and putting the washing up away is likely to be more pleasant than a repeat of that can we not?” Madrigal nodded. “Put the crockery away as you are, then you can get dressed” She looked at him, and simply complied.
The governess smiled to herself, only a few days ago the thought of Madrigal even seeing herself naked would have been unbelievable, now she was standing in the kitchen putting things into cupboards with her naked body exposed for all to see. She couldn’t help feeling Madrigal had deserved such a punishment. She had always been more spoilt, more difficult, and more in need of a stern rebuke than her younger sisters. At seventeen years old she was well developed with rounded hips and bottom. Her breasts were not fully grown, but still hung well on her chest, bouncing a little as she strode around the kitchen hurrying to finish the task so she could dress herself. She was also finding she needed to make water, and she realised that she would not be allowed to do so until she was released from this chore.
After that, mostly they rushed to obey his orders and comply with his requests, they weren’t sure when they would be required to perform in the bedroom, but, meanwhile, they learnt to be willing and keen to please him. He would reward them for good work, usually as a group; a trip out to the sea to paddle and play, a tray of cakes (the cook being enthusiastic but basic in her abilities). Monique Debeer watched all this with some interest. He was training them as he would a dog, rewarding good behaviour, and mostly simply frowning when their response was not correct. That frown was enough to make them try harder. And, though intelligent, she noted how they all rapidly responded to this training in becoming obedient and enthusiastic to please him. Perhaps this was his intention, to make them fully compliant before bedding them. So far only she, Monique, had been his bed fellow.
One of the maids was taken to task for rudeness to her fellows. Since it was they who should be offended, Keith asked what her punishment should be. “How about a spanking?” said one of the three sisters, she actually dreamt of being spanked herself, but watching April being spanked would be nearly as good. None of the others could think of alternative, and appropriate, punishments (Madrigal had an idea that keel-hauling the little cow would not be acceptable), so a thorough spanking was agreed by all – except April. Keith watched, amused, as the girls clearly enjoyed capturing the struggling April, holding her down over a chair and lifting her skirts. All then took part on slapping her on her rump until it glowed prettily. The view of her brown and pink cheeks below and her wet and brown cheeks above unmanned him, that is to say his self-control was unmanned and he ordered her to his bedroom.
He was no simple monster, nor a gentleman. He was a mixture of characteristics as most people are. He had deliberately taken these women into his complete control for the sole purpose of them providing him with pleasure, whenever and whatever he desired. So whilst he did not keep them chained and naked or pound their little vaginas to oblivion; they all had no doubt that their purpose in life now was to please him.
In that, thought Monique, it was not unlike normal married life where one trusted that a loving suitor would continue to be a gentle and loving husband. She knew plenty where this was not the case. When they had arrived in Barbuda, the captives had been moved to his house. They were introduced to the cook and her husband, both old and grizzled. Then they had been largely left alone, except her. Monique had been taken to his bed that same night and urgently, one might say violently, assaulted. He had fucked her dry and raw and sore.
Whilst sailing he had concentrated on getting his ship and his prize-ship back to port in convoy. He had moved back and forth between the ships bringing the new crew up to scratch. He had made no move to take his virgins. Now, in the house, ashore, he began to introduce Monique to the ways of which she had confessed to being ignorant on the ship.
His first fuck was clearly to remove his pressure, then he left her cunt alone for a day or two to recover. He had her practice sucking his cock over and over, quite deliberately never reaching the climax so she could bring it back to solid rod again and try again to match lips and tongue and hands to a single pleasurable experience.
When she was allowed to break off to vacate her bowels, he insisted on her washing herself thoroughly and then he started on the long process of gently opening her shitter to allow him entrance. She had known about such activity; her sister had confessed after she was married of how her husband had let a friend have that hole whilst he had her normal hole. Her sister was an example of a marriage that was a prison. Here, at least, this man had promised his would be the only invading cock. It had been tight and uncomfortable that first time but there had been times since when it entered easier and she was – like her younger colleagues she realised – starting to be pleased when he was happy, filling one or other hole with his juices. She too was being trained.
He encouraged her to tell the others what they did; his idea was that he wanted virgins to break open who would know what was required of them. She got used to the taste of his spunk in her mouth, to leaking from her lower places whilst she ate – he liked it when she dribbled from her cunt or arse, often it excited him so much he took her for another round.
It wasn’t all one way either. He had her practice pleasuring herself, he had her practice getting excited when her rubbed her. This latter was interesting, it was a partial meeting of their minds. He tried to do what she enjoyed, but she also was expected to try and enjoy what he did. The first time he put his head between her legs she was unsure what to expect and was very pleasantly surprised. The second time her monthly bleeding had started and he still insisted. His face came up smeared with blood after she orgasmed. She was disgusted with herself for enjoying this so much, and surprised at a man who enjoyed the taste of her blood leaking out whilst he licked her to climax.
This proceeded for a couple of weeks, not every night, but often, she would be frigged, fucked, sucked and pummelled. She actually enjoyed being the object of so much lusty desire, though she knew she should not. And each day she would explain in detail (Jones insisted that she provide gynaecological detail so the girls understood properly) what had transpired.
Then the events listed at the end of the previous chapter transpired. Monique was a little sad to no longer be the sole partner, but also grateful for a rest.
April waited with some trepidation, she had listened to what Mrs Debeer had had to do with fear, disgust (especially the man licking her ‘there’ during her period), and concern that she should be forced open by him; now she was to be the first of the virgins. She resolved to guard her tongue in future so as not to stand out from the crowd. If she hadn’t been spanked she wouldn’t now be sitting in his bedroom.