Chapter 8

All of my thoughts about a graceful retirement and a wise retreat from the dangers that surrounded me on the Spanish Main went down the like a ship with a deadly “below the line” hole from a British warship. Then Donna Louisa’s loyal and lovely handmaiden Annette took me into her full confidence and she told me about the treasure of the Antilles minor with no less than three full cargos from huge merchant ships of the gold-obsessed Spanish Court, all loaded to the scuppers with booty from the fallen Indian Empire. It was an Empire that was left with countless empty houses and temples and rotting bodies dumped in neat piles for the beasts of the jungle to devour.

At first, I merely spanked the clever but devious maid’s spectacularly lean and muscular bottom with my heavy hand, yet she persisted in her tales of untold wealth and fortune and I sensed that whilst the story might still be only a figment of her vivid imagination, there was no doubt that Mistress Annette believed it with every pore of her proud and luscious body.

I must shamefully confess that I used her glorious flesh for my consummate delight repeatedly that night of the fortune’s telling and the thought of a voyage with this one plunked down in my Captain’s Quarters below deck night after night was all I needed to convert me to her way of thinking and accepting the fact that the impossible hoard of gold actually existed.

Shortly after that new development, I received word from my spy in the headquarters building that some of the ship’s captains were considering murdering me and my officers and taking our two ships and our supposed hidden stores of gold and stolen booty because we had not received permission from the brotherhood to hunt in these waters.

That made a lot of sense to me because the brotherhood was a territorial animal and crossing the line was an unforgiveable sin in their greedy eyes. That was when I made arrangements to gather our forces and take as much provisions and loose cash we could liberate in a short span of time and make immediate sail for the Antilles without informing the crews about our destination or the reason for our sudden departure. I figured it was not good common sense to inform the crew about our compromised position in the brotherhood because they were a suspicious bunch and there was scant desire to be in opposition to the central council that directed our future endeavors in all clandestine affairs.

I decided against marrying Dona Louisa primarily because I knew it would expose me to the rigors of a worrisome society that would probably hound me because of my past reputation and never let me forget my Pirate roots.

In a spurt of misplaced compassion, I arranged for her passage on a safe vessel back to the other side of the Ocean allowing her to lord it over her multitudes of well-fed and obedient common folk drones. She was truly upset that the nymphomaniac handmaiden Annette elected to stay at my side because I suspected the grand lady had a touch of hidden attachment for the handsome young woman that compromised her position as a lady of royal blood and extensive land holdings both in the motherland and in the overseas areas of her family’s investments.

On the night before her departure, I spent the better part of an hour buried to the hilt inside her anal passageway with Annette assisting by licking her mistress on the other side with her skilled and talented tongue of depraved delight.

The mature but infinitely still attractive lady of leisure pushed her plump ass up for further outrages and she patted the frenzied head of her personal maid with her regal hand telling her,

“Yes, right there, my love. You have managed to find my elusive secret place yet again. Please reconsider and come with me and I promise to shower you with gifts you can only imagine.”

Of course, I never slowed down in my anal pleasures because I knew the passionate lady needed steady stretching of her flanks to reach that plateau of promised paradise most females contemplate but never quite reach in their entire lifetimes. We were making that journey together in the fluffy white bed and the sultry Annette was our guide and facilitator at every turn.

Eventually, Donna Louisa reached the point of no return and she clutched my bare arm and kissed my forearm with her eager mouth leaving the indentation of her teeth on my skin that stayed for an entire day. She had done the same thing to my neck and my broad, heavily muscled shoulders when I mounted her in the traditional missionary way allowing her sex-crazed lips to suck my flesh in ardent desire.

Whenever she gave me one of those proprietary labels of possession, I would turn her ass up and spank her until her plump bottom was as red as a British soldier’s tunic.

Annette was quite amusing when I dished out the spankings to her mistress because she had suffered under her less than playful hands for many moons. Her only consolation was that the depraved royal lady was enchanted with the kissing, licking and sucking of her servant girl’s posterior when they were alone together. The young girl knew it was a mortal sin and an abomination of nature to take such pleasure but she never hesitated to push the haughty lady’s head between her cheeks and allow her to show devotion at her altar of divine sodomy.