Chapter 1

Davy Minter had been warned by fellow seafarers that Thorpe was a bastard, and that sailing with the notoriously inhumane captain could only end in disaster, but any hope he’d had of finding a credibly skippered barque or square-rigger in need of hands had long gone. He’d spent the last of his meagre funds on a middle-aged whore to whom he was no stranger, in a back room of one of the seedier streets of the port, and she had indulged his weakness for stronger women with sadistic aplomb. The course of her whip had left him stiff legged, leaving him in some discomfort in walking normally, a task he had to endure as his taboo sexual appetite was something he necessarily kept to himself in the masculine circles he moved within.

The whore had been present as the vessel embarked; he having let out his rash decision to her and she there, albeit incognito to any of the others upon the quayside, her cruel smile leaving him with a sense of foreboding as though she knew something he didn’t. He found himself peering back to shore with the rich scent of that woman’s cunt and anus still fresh to his memory, the thought of her riding his face in victory as she milked him dry of both semen and cash, bringing his cock to a half erection in the bitter breeze; that memory offering small comfort amongst the company he now kept. The cut of the cold wind had soon been replaced by the savage strength of the southern sun as the ‘Darling Jess’ moved down the West African coast, but its natural savagery was nothing in comparison to the base practices of the crew, as he would soon discover.

Minter had not asked of the trade that Thorpe and the Jess would ply, his desperation for work negating the notion, but as she tacked close to the verdant shores while he took respite from the sun in the shade of her billowing sails, he had a taste of what was to come. Travis the mate, a burly unkempt animal whose short stature was compensated for by his coarsely garrulous presence, lifted the spyglass to his eye and his wizened mouth below it produced a gappy smile.

‘Sport ahoy Cap’n!’ Minter was bustled against the side as eager hands more familiar with Thorpe’s methods herded him to the woodwork in their desire to get a glimpse, the fetid smell of long unwashed bodies and foul breath leaving him desperate for air. He gasped as they pushed past and ascended the lower rigging, hanging like apes as they gawped to catch sight of what Travis had spied. The smiling mate handed he glass to Thorpe as the apes began to claim sight of it with their naked eyes while he lifted it horizontal.

“Three bitches, two bucks ... one bitch a fine example.” He looked to the rabble about the rigging.

“Remember lads, look nice and friendly, wave the beauties in!” Minter covered his brow and could just make out five dark shapes in what looked like two dug-out canoes lashed together. Thorpe lifted the glass as they made themselves available for closer inspection, and shrugged his shoulders with an air of indifference.

“The two bucks for the deep ... not worth the passage ... youngest bitch at the back for my cabin stock, the two older for crew sport.” Minter’s heart pumped as Thorpe’s casual directions, which had the mate and hands leering and waving wildly with ominously smiling faces, sank in. Travis stared at Minter with a stony face, detecting the horror he tried to hide.

“I take it ya don’t ‘ave any objections to our sport Mintah?” He forced half a grin, now he knew just how ruthless a crew he was landed with, but had the sense not to show any disagreement with what was to happen. He forced a smile as he moved his face from the shade into sunlight, hoping the canoe would turn back.

“No objections whatsoever Mr Travis ... but this is all new to me.” The statement deflected Travis’ mind from any thoughts that the new man’s look was one of concern.

“You’ll soon be having an appetite for it, just like the other scum.” He grinned as he picked a roped grappling hook from the deck, and swung it in readiness behind the gunwale, out of sight of the native canoeists.

Shani looked out from the canoe with the usual trepidation as one of the older women rubbed coconut oil on the nubile young woman’s breasts, making the rounded orbs glisten in the sunlight, her nipples poking firm with the combination of stimulus and fear she felt. The older woman slapped her face and gave her a curt smile before they came close enough for the crew to see, chiding her for showing reluctance which the senior woman dismissed. Shani was always reluctant to go on the trading canoe, but had no choice; the tribal elders knew they had a greater chance of selling the fruit and coconut products to the white devils if a shapely woman was on display.

Shani had been whipped publicly for her prior reluctance, but this did nothing to quell the new fear she felt each time she neared a ship with her less attractive companions. She was sat perched amongst the wares as though she just might be for sale herself; though there was no chance that her people would allow this, they knew of the excitement in white men’s eyes on seeing a woman’s bare breasts. The trick was to have them think that she might just be for sale, and her presence had them clamoring for a look and buying the fruit just to feast their eyes upon her; the older women knew men were all the same, and seamen long from the sight of a female would indulge in her visual presence for as long as possible, buying their goods in the process, and masturbating over the visual memory when alone later.

This crew seemed no different to any other as they came alongside, waving and gesturing in the bawdy fashion the tribe’s people had become accustomed to, but Shani felt a strange awe descend on noting the hypnotic stare of a couple of the crew who had their arms down behind the gunwale, one panting and jerking back and forth. Others gave Styles casual glances of contempt as he did his usual trick of dropping his filthy leggings and masturbating at the approach, knowing what was to come. As one of the males stood to steady the canoes against the ship, Travis swung the grappling hook down, piercing the tribesman’s flesh, and with the aid of a crewman, hauling him up the side of the ship as he screamed in agony.

Shani froze as several other grappling sailed down to secure the canoes, along with crewmen dragging a rope net. The other male tribesman dived into the ocean in effort to escape, only to be lanced with several whaling spars, his blood misting the blue depths as he sank like a stone. The screams of the two women filled the breeze as they were swiftly trussed and manhandled up to the deck where their colourful but flimsy garments were ripped from them, exposing their supple brown flesh to the rabid seamen. Shani was petrified, helpless to resist as she squirmed in the sweaty hands of the crew and dropped at the feet of Thorpe after being dragged aboard to know her fate.

She watched in horror as Travis wheeled the impaled male about the deck then raised a machete and swung it at his victim, the man losing two fingers as he tried to fend the blow off, then sinking to the deck with the blade deep in his neck. Travis deftly put his boot onto the writhing male’s torso, pulled the machete free, then brought it down with a smile, severing the head and sending it spiralling across the deck, leaving the jerking body to pump blood from the stump of the neck while the crew laughed.

Shani watched with mouth agape as the two older women were splayed over crates to bare their cunts and anuses, and serviced eagerly by the frantic seaman, the grinning men offering up their erect cocks to be sniffed at while others indulged, giving the fetid promise of what was to come as they waited their turn. Shani’s eyes caught those of the woman who’d taken some pleasure in preparing her as visual bait, receiving a half smile from her at the irony of her fate, before one of those boning cocks was forced into her mouth. Shani watched her broad lips consume the cock with as much haughty pride as the proud woman could muster; she knew she was not long for this world and would seek arousal in her final minutes despite the animal attentions afforded her. Monks, a portly deckhand who was in her, panted out his excitement before relieving his load into her.

“She wets beautifully! ... she wants it badly ... Yess!!” He was quickly bustled aside with his cock dripping, as the next forced his cock into the tight warmth of her anus.

“We’ll see ‘ow she takes this then!” The woman grunted in discomfort on the cock which filled her mouth as she was cheated of what little pleasure there was to be had in her disgrace, the bulging cock in her mouth releasing it’s content and having her choke on the creamy white spunk which dribbled from her lips as the crew laughed at her despair. Minter looked on, trying hard to show some sign of enjoyment at the act, while the other woman was fucked hard by four men, then swiftly beheaded. The fourth man who’d removed her head, then gestured to Styles, who’d wanked at the onset and was now erect again.

“Fuck her whilst she be warm Styles, your turn now she be gone!” The hands applauded as he spread the legs of the headless woman and slipped his length into the oozing cunt, his colleagues having provided ample lubrication. As he pumped deliriously at the motionless corpse, Thorpe held Shani’s head high so that she did not miss any of the base performance. Her eyes flicked from the elder woman’s predicament as she was fucked and buggered, her dead elder companion serviced by the depraved Styles, and noted the uniform delirium enjoyed by all ... all but one.

She sensed the reluctance of the male stood by the gunwale, reluctance not noted at that point by all others enjoying the distraction. She saw before he did, the turn of Travis’ head in his direction. She knew not why, but as her eyes met Minters, she flashed them in the direction of the mate, as if to warn him. Minter’s heart pulsed at the contact, and somehow felt the urgency in her signal, making him start toward the approaching mate with the best look of interest he could muster. Travis urged him toward the band of males and the older woman prone over a crate, legs wide as a cock thrust deep and hard at her cunt, yet another cock receiving a second orgasm at the service of her mouth.

“Come now Minter, she’ll enjoy a nice young cock like yours - I know you’ll want your share.” As Minter fumbled with his belt, the woman moaned out a long overdue orgasm, brought on by the overpowering multiple contact with her clitoris, making her clench at the now jetting cock occupying her mouth. It’s owner yelped and withdrew his member to rapturous laughter from the others.

“The slut! She nigh on took my cock off!” Enraged at his embarrassment, he drew a knife from his straggling pants, lifted her head and cut her throat from ear to ear. Travis merely laughed at the seaman’s rage as the woman gasped in the ecstasy of relief through the draining blood, the depth of her orgasm taking her into darkness and cheating the men of further torment. Minter’s relief matched it as he fastened his buckle; the stripes on his arse would remain unseen.

Thorpe laughed as the two women were quickly mutilated; their breasts sliced off as trophies, to be cured and used as tobacco pouches, the captain wary of the disdain of some of the men at having further deliveries of their seed curtailed by the impromptu execution of the second woman, he dragged the trembling Shani to his cabin, to sample the luxuries of his goods before she was confined to the hold.

Shani was swiftly stripped of her thin dress by Thorpe on the door being locked behind them, his cock boning erect as he studied the curvaceous silky brown flesh which shimmered as she trembled on her knees. His pants down, that cock was offered up to her face, and she sniffed obediently before turning her head.

“No!” Thorpe grinned at her disclosure that she knew English; the meddling missionaries, a pet hate of his, at least did him this service. Their faith made them intrepid explorers, blindly traversing parts oft untrodden by other white men, many never to be seen again as they ended up as trophies themselves, but their teaching the inhabitants his native tongue was a bonus. He slapped her face hard then grabbed her hair.

“Suck!” Shani looked up at him as her glossy lips slipped over his odorous bell-end, Thorpe’s knees jerking and he giving a pleasured sigh as the warmth of her mouth contracted on his sensitive glans. Shani closed her eyes, already dreaming of walking the beach from where she had departed, as he thrust his erect member back and forth. She tasted the salty pre-cum at the back of her throat, then found herself being pushed onto her back as he swiftly withdrew and mounted her, thrusting his cock into the lush haven of her cunt. Shani whimpered as the bulbous head parted her labia and slid back and forth, her wetness through physical action rather than any desire, welcomed for it’s lubrication as the grunting Thorpe fucked her hard and roared as he spent liberally. He got up and stood over her, panting as he admired seeing the whiteness of his cum trickle from her brown cunt in stark contrast. He then took a short whip to her, enjoying seeing her curl into a ball as he thrashed her soft flesh till the urge to fuck her again returned.

Shani endured Thorpe’s spiteful intentions for a good half hour, before he leashed her and tugged her out of the cabin, down to the aft hold. The cowering woman was placed on a long chain which allowed her a little movement, but no other comfort. He ascended the steps to the covered entrance to be greeted by the eager and gawking eyes of most of the hands. He stood tall and showed them the whip.

“This is what ye’ll get if she’s tampered with, she’s produce now and’ll fetch a good price, she ain’t for sport”. He knew each of the hands intimately, and also knew that most would chance their luck with her. He didn’t know Minter but from what he’d seen of him so far suggested he was timid and trustworthy, and this would be a good opportunity to have him know his place as he became one of the crew.

“You’ll tend her and any others we pick up with food and water Minter, you’ve got to start somewhere!” The other hands laughed as he was awarded the task, which was seen of one of belittlement, not a job for seaman worthy of frequenting the rigging. Minter did his best to feel and show the shame, but was more than glad to comply. Thorpe poked him with the whip.

“And ye be sure to close the door a’hind ye when going below, I don’t want any of these scurvy devils following down”. Thorpe uttered a schedule of when she should be tended, and later, after retrieving sustenance for her from the galley, he made his first trip across the deck to the hold, receiving derisory comments and sneers from those in the vicinity as he went. He closed the door of the hold behind him and descended into the half-light, noting a set of keys hanging on a hook half way down. He looked across the decking to see her shapely figure in profile, squatting with her back erect, her fine breasts pointing, her posture perfect. He expected her to be frightened, so walked slowly toward her as he would a shy animal.

Shani had indeed been in fear on hearing the footsteps, but her humour became proudly arrogant on seeing it was the reluctant male; despite being naked and chained by the neck, she gave Minter a look of contempt on his approach. He knelt before her to place the board carrying the food and water upon the deck, and was taken by complete surprise when she spoke English.

“I know you not like the others.” Minter was astounded, his eyes meeting her proud stare, as he looked back, startled at her command of his native tongue, and by the obvious defiance in her tone.

“No ... I was ... I wasn’t happy with what happened.” His eyes drifted across her fine breasts and poking nipples, down to her exposed sex, unable to help himself looking. She sneered and stood up, leaving him kneeling as he watched her rise, she sensing the quirk of his sexuality. He froze as she edged toward him, offering her cunt to his nose.

“You want this? You like look at it ... maybe you lick clean for me, next time you come.” Minter sniffed at her delightful brown labia, his cock swelling as he realised she recognised his weakness at her feminine authority, aroused at her natural command. She smiled as he sniffed at her cunt like a dog, she naked and chained, but already seeing and enjoying the control she had over him. Her defiance grew as he remained at her feet, indulging in her sexual fragrance.

“If I had whip, I make you pay for my troubles.” Minter looked up, as he took in the scent of her growing arousal, seeing her sneer of enjoyment as she spoke. She looked toward the steps, more conscious than he of the time he’d been there, lifting her arm and pointing to them.

“You go now, I have you serve me next time.” Minter half regained his senses, his cock stiff in a submissive awe of her, and stumbled toward the stairs as she laughed quietly at him. He emerged into the light, and composed himself, wanting desperately to return, his eyes permanently on the time as he attended his other duties.

On his next visit, he found Shani standing proud, hand on hips and legs slightly apart. She pointing to the deck as he reached the foot of the steps. The noble woman knew she would soon be condemned to a life of servitude to a white man, and was determined to have command of this one while she could. Just like a condemned person awaiting the inevitable rope, each moment before it was to be grasped like an elixir of life itself, each pleasure to be had, magnified tenfold. She had stroked her cunt continually on calculating when he was next due, her lips glossy with arousal, her libido high with it’s sexual fragrance.

“Crawl to me ... like the pet you’d be if in my home, but waste no time.” Minter’s cock boned to a full erection at the delectable vision of feminine dominance, the authority in her voice making him want to worship her, as strongly as she desired to own him. He sank to his knees, sliding the food forward so that it was within the reach of her chain for later, then shuffled forward obediently on his knees, drawn in by the pompous sneer she wore as she enjoyed seeing him obey. As he reached her, he peered admiringly at her broad brown thighs which shone in what little illumination was offered, her imposing stance enhanced by the delicious whiff of her aroused cunt, the dark silky lips and butterfly exposed for his service; he was dominated by a greater power so naturally, and she was thrilled by it.

“Lick! ... lick where your manhood will never be allowed ... you show me respect.” He wasted no time and pressed his nose tight to her bulging vulva, his cock weeping its own lubrication as he tasted hers, she sighing as his tongue stroked at the slick wetness of her folds, his pleasure as intense as hers in serving her in submission while he gratefully explored the warmth of her cunt and tasted her juices. She slipped her fingers through his hair, clenching at it and pulling him back to an inner beam on the hull. He gasped impatiently as she sat and lifted her legs, fingering her clitoris and pointing to her silky pucker.

“You show me you know your place ... Quickly!” She smiled in triumph as the white male showed no hesitation, and was down to the heat of her anus immediately. Minter had been tutored well in the art of anal worship of his Mistress, and the erotic pleasure he felt as he eagerly ringed the supple and smooth brown flesh of the black woman was intense. She moaned softly in announcing her own gratitude as Minter yearned to come on sniffing and tasting the tart tang of her tight anus, she massaging his tongue with its muscular grip as he probed deep into its luxuriant warmth. She tried her best to contain her cries as she indulged in a lush orgasm, and was aided by the buffeting of the seas, rougher than normal of late; a sweep of a wave bringing her delicious arse tight against his face as he lapped, the water with her food spilling some of its content. She pushed him away with a contented smile.

“Go! ... go quick... ‘ Minter stood and looked at her despairingly, to be greeted with a contemptuous look and finger pointing to the steps. He said nothing and made for them, hearing her again as he began to ascend.

“Next time, you give your seed at my feet ... I want see what is mine.” Minter’s mind was full of her promise, but the rolling of the Jess brought his mind to the more immediate situation. Travis yelled out to Thorpe as he lowered the spyglass after looking toward an ominous cloud formation.

“Troublesome squall coming Cap’n, best make for deeper water!” Thorpe screwed his eyes at the grey mass and concurred, though he knew the volcanic island of Bioko could not be far off; this place had changed hands several times and its inhabitants were a mystery, the native inhabitants unlikely to welcome anything resembling a slaver. Just the same he barked confirmation of the mate’s judgement.

The small ship rose and fell in peaks and troughs through the dark envelopment of the squall, the sheeting rain closing visibility down to a couple of hundred yards, and seeing the crew slip and slide across the deck which was often awash when the Jess caught a broadside from the waves. Despite the alarm shown by most of the hands, Minter felt strangely at ease with their predicament; he now showed he was their equal, and working amongst them in securing the sails etc., he had the added bonus in that the stinking wretches were washed clean for once, and the random salt baths he received himself were refreshingly welcome. However, the brief immersions they received were as nothing in comparison with what was to follow.

Thorpe wiped his eyes and peered into the ever darkening sky which somehow seemed to close in on them, then a bolt of lightning illuminated the sky, and the vision which befell the hands had them statuesque with fear. The brief glow from the bolt silhouetted dark volcanic crags toward which they blundered. Thorpe shrieked a command to go hard a starboard, but before any effect could be made, the Jess lurched forward and a severe rending juddered throughout the ship as she hit a submerged crag. The Jess stuck fast, motionless as the breakers threatened to tear her apart, sending panic amongst the hands who made for the longboat before any order from Thorpe. The captain and Travis joined them rapidly on the Jess lurching over at a 45 degree angle under the spiteful caress of a wave, the hull groaning as though in pain. Minter watched as the hands fought amongst themselves in a scuffle to board the boat as it was lowered to the seething maelstrom, jagged black peaks appearing and disappearing in the foam as though to taunt at their chances. Minter could only think of Shani, and braved going below as the rest of the crew departed without a thought for anyone else.

Minter staggered down the stairs, grabbing the keys which swung back and forth but still upon the hook, and found Shani clinging to a set of manacles, but maintaining a calmness as the water gushed through a breach in the hull, threatening to engulf her. She grabbed him by the torso as he fed the chain through her collar after unlocking the padlock about the stay which held it. As the chain slid like a serpent down to the knee deep water, he tugged her toward the stairs and they emerged at the door to see the longboat buck high on the waves and drop out of sight with each roller. Shani let her grip on the door frame go, and lifted her arms to the heavens, laughing as the lightning flashed through the sky. Minter was astounded by her reckless bravery as the rain coursed down her face and across her firm breasts, accentuating the beauty of her defiant femininity. She looked at him and smiled.

“I free again, and the spirits show their anger toward evil men.” She grinned with satisfaction as the distant longboat was flipped by a huge wave, remaining upright but tossing several men into the ocean; the boat descending to disappear from their sight beyond the veil of the streaming rain. They felt the whole ship surge and fell back into the stair passage, the wash of an immense roller closing the door behind them. The ship rolled, creaking against the crags as they were battered in the stair passage, Minter losing consciousness, defying the horrors of drowning that he fully expected.

He woke to find her standing over him, her smile radiant with satisfaction, to match the sunlight which prevailed after the storm. The ship now lay beached in sand, its hull open to expose the chains and manacles and express the guilt of its passage which was now at an end. The shallow sea it lay in was awash with flotsam from its dead heart; many of the gruesome tobacco pouches crafted from feminine parts now upon the shore to give up the hideous secret of its trade. The banal pouches intended for back street sale in the dank cities of the white men, now freed to confirm the monstrous purpose of those chains and manacles open to view.

Shani lifted his head to view two black women on horseback patrolling the beach, and waving as Shani shouted something in her native tongue. Minter had never seen African women on horseback, they looked so noble, naked flesh exposed high upon their mounts. He noted that the fierce crags were no more than a natural breakwater at this point, sloping down to greet the beach; a mound where the rocks kissed the shore, easily traversed. The verdant island spread back behind it, seemingly endlessly, the green hills and valleys topped by black peaks which collected clouds. Shani stood.

“We must go to them ... I do my best to protect you, but they not like boat you come from.” She dived from the wreck into the sea, no more than a fathom deep where it lay, and with some trepidation, Minter followed. As they trudged up the beach, the anger on the face of one of the horsewomen was apparent; she edged her horse through the surf and let fly with a long whip at Minter, while the other leaned down and offered a hand to Shani, naked and still wearing the loose iron collar about her neck with the loop in the rear through which the chain had held her - it was obvious to the women that she had been cargo. As Minter crouched below the lash, Shani shielded him from further attack.

“This one ... he help me, he not desire slave.” Minter was further astounded at the mounted black woman’s response as she sneered down at him, hearing her English better spoken than his.

“Then his fate shall be decided by our Mistress. He is one of the crew of a slaver is he not? ... and a particularly vile slaver at that.” She flicked her whip at one of the gruesome artefacts which drifted in the surf, a forlorn black nipple emphasising the depravity which led to her reasoning. The two women slid elegantly from their mounts, both eyeing Minter with contempt and brandishing their whips. The other horsewoman spoke for the first time, she too having a perfect command of English.

“You’ll take that collar off her, and wear it yourself ... then you’ll strip naked, like the slave you now are.” He slipped the pin from the hasp at the rear of her collar and opened the hinge. Shani looked him in the eye with an air of confidence tinged with pleasure as she fitted the collar and secured the pin, the two horsewomen smiling with contempt as he obediently stripped.

One of the two took a thin rope from her horse and secured it to the collar as they studied his body, turning him to reveal his rear. Minter’s cock pulsed to a half erection as they pointed to his now faintly bruised buttocks, and the still distinct evidence of striping across them, laughing at the obvious confirmation of his inferiority. Shani revealed her knowledge of his submission as she stroked his cheeks.

“He not just help me, he want to serve me ... I know woman will have done this.” She grinned on seeing that the situation had him aroused, despite the seriousness of his predicament, and yanked the rope with a wicked smile.

“You show these women respect, kiss their feet.” The two curvaceous women stood proud with their whips and chuckled with utter contempt for the white male as he readily went down and kissed their feet. Minter’s cock erected hard as he thought on what was to come; the two women’s contempt could not hide their delight at seeing him dominated so easily, he glanced up sheepishly to see their nipples poking hard on having him just where he belonged, just where he wanted to belong. The woman whose feet he’d last kissed, turned and eased her arse cheeks apart, bending slightly.

“Lick! Show me your worship!” Minter sniffed hard at the tart whiff of the powerful woman’s anus, sticky with riding her mount, and now tinged with the lush essences of arousal from her cunt. He slipped his tongue into the gloriously dark pucker, and heard the others laugh as she released her glossy brown cheeks to envelope his face, flicking her whip playfully, his cock pulsing rigid at being subjected to a real taste of humiliation. The dominant woman sighed as his tongue darted and probed at her anus in the pleasure of his obedience, sealing his fate as a plaything of one of the women if he were allowed to live.

“Our Mistress will enjoy his attentions and reward you for delivering him to her justice, he’s yours to pass on to her, and she’ll decide his fate ... now tell us what you know of these others.” The leash was passed to Shani and the two horsewomen urged them forward across the mound which divided the beach, Minter watching the graceful steps of their shapely bodies as he was led by the girl whose mercy he was now dependent on, his mind consumed by the surreal situation which would lead to heaven or hell; the superb movement of the arse he’d tasted, teasing his thoughts and fears as they progressed majestically. The trailing whips of the formidable women confirmed he was owned, and Shani showed her delight in each step as she led him on the leash whilst relating all that she’d seen; his fears reduced and his excitement building as she confirmed to the two that he’d played no part in the fearful act she’d seen.