Faire Wind

[ariosto]

"Good lord man hurry. I'd rather fornicate with a Cheapside harlot then a bitch as gamey as that."

Nicholas Boothe sat back in his chair, his booted legs splayed out before him sipping the REALLY good wine he'd kept away from Pithe over that grotesque interminable dinner.
His hair was unkempt and his white silk shirt was opened nearly to the waist showing a dark curling matt of hair. His face was flushed from drinking and arousal for inspite of his words to Sperles he found the convict woman extremely desirable.
She was young and he liked them young, her face now cleaned of filth looked innocent and fresh...he liked that to. Lord Boothe was a well known dispoiler of maidenheads, not that this one was necessarily a virgin of course...(he made a mental note to find out for himself as soon as his clerk had finished the impromptu bath.)

The girl lay spread eagled on the floor still unconscious, her dingy rags tossed in the corner, while Sperles labored over her with a washcloth, dipping it ceaselessly into the now
murky tub of warm water.
He wiped the blood from her ankles and stood up unsteadily.
"I've done the best I can M'Lord."

Nicholas looked at him petulantly.
"You creak like an old rusty door man. You'll never survive this blasted voyage."

"An aching in my joints is all sir...brought on by the damp airs."
He looked down at the girl.
"I regret not being able to have the shackles struck. Pithe would not permit it."

Nicholas threw back the last of the wine and gestured to the door.
"No matter.
Get out Sperles...I'll send for you when I've finished with her."

The door closed and Boothe surveyed his 'prize' more closely. Lean and small framed, a narrow waist, almost boyish hips but pert firm breasts with small rose hued nipples that he was in a positive fever to suck!
He'd been hard almost since the moment Sperles had stripped her of her filthy clothes. Now as he looked into her clear childlike face his arousal began to stiffen and ache uncontrolably.
He knelt beside her and ran his finger from her forehead, slowly down over her body and finished by stroking the fine down of hair on her mons.

Ah yes...is she or isn't she...
Nicholas grinned impishly and slipped a finger into the heat between her smooth thighs.
That's when the girl stirred, raised her head and
said with a spirit that he found quite surprising,
"'Ere now! Stop!
Just what d'you think your doing'!"

 

[SexyChele]

The door flew open with a bang, and Lisbeth jumped, startled at the sudden clamor. She stared at the apparition as he entered the cabin. Large, no - tall and powerfully built, he quickly stepped across the threshold and slammed the door behind. Lisbeth jumped once again as the door hit the jamb.

As he walked across the room, she shivered with fear. With his hair wild and his countenance more of a scowl, Lisbeth knew he was a man who would have control. As his eyes raked over her, she shrank back, willing herself to disappear. As he approached, she wanted to beg for mercy, but discovered she had no voice with which to do it.

Shocked and amazed, Lisbeth watched as he pulled a key from inside his shirt and undid te shackles at her ankles. Instinctively, she rubbed the tender and torn flesh as she watched him lock the door and secure the key. So, she was free and still a prisoner. When he turned around, she expected the worse, and was surprised when he moved to the table and pulled out parchment and set pen to ink.

Not sure what to do, Lisbeth remained seated on the floor. Her mind raced. Was she expected to do something? Was she here for a purpose? Well, she was no man's slave! She would not serve him, she told herself. Being a prisoner was already enough, she would go no further. She waited to be able to tell him as much, yet he only continued in his writing. She stared at him, and occasionally she saw him turn his head slightly, glancing at her.

Nervous and unsure, Lisbeth began to look about the cabin, pick at her clothing, and study the cracks in the floor. Why didn't he speak? He knew she was here. He'd even sent for her! And now she was being treated as something less than a dog. Her passion began to boil within her, and she was ready to speak up, when the sound of parchment caught her ears. Glancing up, she saw him roll the parchment up and put it away.

Lisbeth watched as he picked up a plate of rolls and a goblet, and walked towards her. Cringing back, her courage suddenly fled, she wished once more to be ignored. Instead, he placed the plate and goblet near her and turned towards the bed. She watched covertly as he removed his boots. When he slid his shirt over his head, she stared openly at his well-muscled chest. He certainly was not a Captain who only lazed about his cabin while others did the work. His skin was bronzed, his chest chisled, his arms powerful. She watched as he reached for a pillow, then ducked slightly as he tossed it towards her. It landed near her side.

Lisbeth openly watched as he strode to extinguish one lamp, then again was surprised as he approached her with a blanket. She watched as he slipped into his bed, noting he still wore his breeches with the key to the door tucked inside, and suddenly the cabin was plunged into darkness.

Lisbeth sat there, staring into the darkness, confused. Why would a man call a woman to his cabin, only to have her sleep on the floor and barely acknowledge her presence? She glanced at where the bed was, wanting to speak up, to ask, to know he had seen her. But the past few months in prison had taught her to keep her mouth shut regarding such things.

Feeling safe in the dark, Lisbeth gently reached out her hand until she found the plate and grabbed one of the rolls. Still hungry, she ate of it greedily, moaning softly at the fullness it provided her stomach. Again reaching out, she found the goblet and brought it tentatively to her lips. She tasted the finest wine she had ever known, and found herself drinking with gusto and wishing for more. As quietly as she could, she replaced the goblet but misjudged, and it fell over with a clatter that only seemed louder in the dark, quiet room. She heard the Captain shift in his bed, and she wondered if she had awakened him or if he even slept. Trying to right the goblet, it slipped from her fingers, and clanged once more before she managed to right it properly.

Quietly removing her worn and broken shoes, she grabbed the pillow, noting that it was made of down - a certain luxary she had never known. Feeling for the blanket, she wrapped herself in it, and attempted to find the most comfortable position possible. She squirmed and tossed, feeling the hard wooden floor beneath her. She was about to curse under her breath - especially as the Captain slept in that fine bed he was unwilling to share - when she thought of Riley. He was alone now somewhere deep in the hold, with only straw to keep him warm and his arm for a pillow. Lisbeth sighed deeply and wondered how she would ever sleep.

But eventually sleep overtook her, and she found her dreams filled with dark images of a powerfully built man.

 

[Snork Maiden]

Motionless she lay on the floor as the man servant, Sperles, she thought the name was, removed her clothing. At least her bodice and petticoats were removed. Her baggy cotton bloomers however were a different matter since her chained feet prevented their removal the man had simply pulled them down around her ankles doubly restraining her leg movements.

The sponge was applied briskly, the man servant seeming not that interested in the task he had been commanded to perform, "probably something he had been tasked to do often", Mary thought to herself.

Her face smarted from the brutish slap she had receieved earlier and she pressed her tongue lightly on the chipped tooth she had sustained as a result of it. Its sharpness and extend of damage magnified by the densely packed nerve endings on her tongue tip.

The sponge had been applied briefly to her crotch but it caused no excitement for her, the sanitary actions being brief and cursory not intended to stimulate her and she was thankful at least that this man appeared to show no interest in molesting her in her apparent unconscious state.

Mary continued the pretence hoping that her lifeless body would attract nothing more than a scathing volley of curses and she would be returned to the hold.

After a few minutes the man Sperles concluded that he had done his best and apologised to the the other man who up to that point had remained silent; although Mary had felt and heard his presence. The silent stranger spoke and her heart froze, the well spoken voice of an upper class gentleman. Flashing memories of Montague-Smythe, along with his debauched tastes and demands that she had often endured on those nights when the Mistress of the house had been absent, shot though her head. Her cruel treatment and the betrayal at the hands of this man, had hardened her hatred for this so called 'superior' class and realised her deepest fears about being brought above dack had been well founded.

The Servant rose and departed from the room complaining about the damp and sea air affecting his joints and she heard the door click shut. She heard the foot fall of the well heeled man as he survey her. Forcing herself to remain still and silent she fought her instincts to recoil at his touch. The man's finger touched her forehead. Slowly he dragged it down over the bridge of her nose allowing it to fall onto her filtrum, pressing her upper lip down lightly and pulling the lower one out slightly as it continued over her chin. She could feel the finger tracing down her sternum between her breasts and on to her naval. Still lower he continued, the finger dragged over her abdomen through her thick furry mound into the furrow formed by her folds.

She could endure it no more as the finger probed her between her legs, seeking to find her entrance. She erupted, sitting up sharply and pulling her knees together, she scuttled backwards on her hands and heels quickly as her bound and restricted legs would allow crashing her back into the foot of the wooden bedframe.

"Stop that, what do you think you're doing?" she complained her eyes wide open as she stared in terror and anger at Booth.

"Keep away from Me, don't touch Me!", She glared at the man and spat at him with disgust. "You'll not have Me Mister. Not alive at least"

She sat clutching her bleeding knees, her ankles pressed into her backside as she huddled tightly with a defiant look on her face.

 

[afternooner]

Riley

Once he had put behind him the feelings of revulsion for aristocracy and the disgust for his fellow man, Riley settled in ready for sleep, uncomplicated by dreams.

He had been in enough prisons in his fifty years to block out the vile smells and delerious cries of his fellow inmates. he no longer felt the hardness or the coldness of a damp floor. His only concern was to get through the morrw and maybe share a smile or a gentle word with someone more down and out that he was.

He conteplated how he had come to this feeling and recollecting that it was just before the last time he had been locked up. Having abstained from alcohol for some time he had come to the realization that it was the devil booze that was his ruinaton and swore to give it up.He had been doing well, holding a job down at the docks and paying his dues, but then one day while he was returning from work he was accosted by a bobbie who remembered that he had broken his nose a time or two and sounding the alarm brought a number of others to haul him off to jail again. They didn't seem to notice that he didn't put up a fight and treated him just like they had before beating him to a pulp in the process.

Well that was water under the bridge now and Riley didn't let it get him down looking at this new Land, Australia as a chance to continue on with his life.

 

[BigDawg69]

Pithe awoke from a restless sleep as darkness still hung heavy about the ship. He sat up in his bed, looking down at the pretty creature sleeping on his floor. He tossed the notion of caring for another one from his mind, but could not shake the feeling tugging slightly at his heart. He could feel the presence of Aryc’s ship weighing on him.

He stood and moved slowly across the room. Picking up a pewter pitcher of water, Pithe took a long drink. He placed the pitcher back on the table and turned to look at the woman on the floor. She stirred uncomfortably on the floor. He moved to her a slowly slid his long arms underneath her and lifted her from the ground.

She shook awake scared and jolted in his arms. Her eyes opened wide as she kicked her legs wildly. Lifting her arms she tried to beat on Pithe’s chest, but he gripped her tighter to his body.

“Put me down!” She gasped, “Put me down NOW!”

Pithe ignored the woman, but carried her to his bed and laid her on the soft bed. Sliding his arms back from beneath her, he moved slow allowing himself the pleasure of feeling her voluptuous curves and soft skin. Pithe stood to his full height and looked down at her. A smirk grazed his lips as he took in her beautiful curves.

Through his eyes his mind churned at the possibilities. He thought through his past, Morrigan entered his mind again. The weight of the Siren Song pressed down upon him. Since Morrigan he had not known any names. He had treated them well, but without regard. He had cleaned them, broken them (if necessary) and sold them. He held them with no more regard than a herder did his sheep. As Pithe stood there peering down at this woman, his heart seemed to plead for more. Her eyes spoke to him. They communicated more than the fear that filled them with tears.

“What is your name?” Pithe’s voice boomed through the dark of the cabin.

Edited for OOC Note: I will be out of town for the weekend and shall return on Sunday night. It may be as late as Tuesday before I am able to post again. I apologize for the interruption and appreciate your patience!

 

[ariosto]

Boothe touched his finger to his tongue and smiled.
"In your courses are you?...Must be damned inconveniant on a convict ship."

He walked around her, looking down on her huddled body.
"It puts a lot of men off you know. Eve's curse that is."

Suddenly he was kneeling beside her. His hands grasped her jaw and turned her head up to look him in the eyes.
"I don't give a damn myself girl. Whether your bleedin' or not don't signify to me. I know a hundred ways to take you and before this fucking voyage is over, I'll use them all."
He tilted her head back and kissed her hard on
the mouth. Her lips were cold and shut tight.
She shut her eyes as well.
Boothe reached between her legs and tried to slide his fingers over her breast. She pulled her knees back even harder.
Then he struck her so hard her ears rang, and tears welled up in her eyes but this was something she was at least used to.

"Bitch."
Nicholas was back at the table looking at her.
"Do I bribe you now?"
He threw a plate of fruit and cheese at her feet.
"Do I get you drunk girl?"
He emptied his wine glass over her back.
It was cold but she didn't flinch.

"And what the fuck do I do about these!?"
He reached down and grabbed at the chains that shackled her feet.
"Can't very well get between your pretty legs this way can we?"

He strode to the stern window and looked out at the phospherescent wake of the ship.
"They say we're being followed. Perhaps your rescue is at hand, eh?"

Mary Beth was carved in stone.
She heard him moving about, heard him sliding things over the deck. She never looked up.
footsteps walking by her...the cabin door opening.
"Sperles get in here."

The clerk entered in time to see Nicholas taking the girl under the arms and bodily lifting her off the floor. Mary Beth was surprised at his strength. He lifted her easily and turned her towards Sperles.
"Take her hands and lash them with that rope man."

In a few moments she'd been bound by her wrists to a rope that passed through a ring bolt on the bulkhead just above the stern window. A heavy oaken straight backed chair had been placed between her and the glass in such away that the back was pressed against her body from upper thigh to midriff and her arms and chest pulled over it to the ringbolt.
She could see her face in the window, see her breasts swaying with the rocking motion of the ship.
She could see them behind her...talking.

"The bitch bit me!"
Nicholas held up his hand while Sperle's bandaged it.
"She's a vixen m'lord. You should have chosen a tamer one."

"But look at those hips, those smooth thighs, that splendid cunnie. It'll be worth it I tell you...well worth it."

Her legs had been spread as far as the chains would allow then tied to the heavy chair legs.
She was no longer screaming, gagged tight with Boothe's kercheif.

"Go on now Sperle's...maybe I'll let you try some for desert."
The Clerk showed no emotion as he bowed and left.

She watched the reflection in the many paned window as Boothe walked up behind her, loosened his breeches and revealed a thick curving cock, whose swollen head he began to rub up and down the length of her sex.
"All right girl...I'm ready.
Are you?"

 

[Snork Maiden]

She listened stoney faced as Boothe explained her condition would not in anyway dissuade him from his intentions.

Suddenly he was in her face, kneeling abruptly before her and jerking her head to face him clutching her chin roughly. He attempted to kiss her, the idea to bite his tongue as it entered her mouth crossed her mind, but she had not the courage to carry of such a drastic course of action. Instead she kept her lips firmly sealed as his mouth pressed against hers.

She could smell the stale wine on his breathe from his earlier meal and it repulsed her. Not receiving any pleasure from the forced kiss he brought his hand hard down across her face, causing her mouth open involuntarily as it struck. Her face already sore from her previous assault, this slap was more malicious, catching her not with the fingers but the hard heel of the palm. Her eyes flooded as the pain registered. The beating she had anticipated had clearly begun and she doubted whether she would see the new day dawn.

Boothe rose aggitatedly strode to the table. The oil lanterns which lit the cabin flickered, casting long shadows across the floor where their light was obstructed by the numerous items of cabin furniture. Picking a plate of food he turned casting it harshly at her feet. The contents spilled around her as the sound of the plate's impact resounded at her feet.

She peered at the food, her stomach ached for nourishment but she would starve before accepting food from this man. Boothe mocked her following the volley of food with a glass of wine, thrown spitefully over her back.

Exasperated he yanked her shackles, she winched as the cuffs cut her ankles. Her leg slipped forward as he pulled them and she mindfully pressed her thighs together in case he should take advantage of her posture. He cursed them. For once she was grateful for the chains, though a nuisance to herself she delighted silently that they were even more an annoyance for him.

Whilst Mary couldn't see what he was doing she could hear him arranging the furniture. She rubbed her jaw keeping her eyes fixed to her knees; which she had pulled back up and was now clutching them again. Boothe called out for his man servant as she felt him lifting her from behind, his hands coming up under her armpits and locked together infront of her face.

Seizing the opportunity for revenge she quickly leaned forward and sunk her teeth into one of his hands between the thumb and index finger. Tasting the blood in her mouth she released him. Booth neither flinched or uttered a sound he simply continued to carry her towards the back of the cabin, to the window.

Sperles, the servant, had meantime entered the room. Boothe indicated a length of rope and ordered him to bind Mary's wrists. The man expertly wrapped the rope around her wrists and then tightened them with a cross lashing before attaching her to the iron ring fixed in the beam above the window.

Secured she wiggled and struggled, a hankerchief was tied around her head effectively gagging her and she began to chew on it attepting to bite her way through the cotton material. She could not see them clearly only their partial reflection in the stern window. The chair back cut into her stomach as her arms stretch forward and upward over it towards the ring to which she was fastened.

She felt Sperles trying to tie her feet to the leg of the chair and she tried to kick but it was futile. Her action hindered by the weight of the shackles and her under garments which still hung around her ankles she found herself totally immobilized.

Having finished his task he was dismissed with the promise of the leftovers, the door clicked and she was alone again with her tormentor.

She squirmed, moving her hips violently and tugging at her bonds as Boothe applied the tip of his bulbous cock against her slit. Her mind fought her body's responses attempting to avoid succumbing to the sensation. Booth pressed the harder into her gash locating it at the entrace to her vagina.

'I'm ready.... are you ?' He announced.

She jolted her hips sideways attempting to dislodge the unwelcome intruder from her hole, but Boothe held it firmly in place. Her head collapsed and she tried to scream but her gag prevented any noticeable sound from escaping.

Violently Boothe thrust his cock into her, forcing her open she felt the pain like she had been ripped open but his cock slipped deeper aided by the discharge from her womb.

Impaled she resigned herself to the man as he thrust his cock in and out of her each time penetrating deeper and deeper his powerful hands grasping her hips and pulling her onto himself as he took his pleasure from her. Her eyes filled with tears and her body hung limply on the bonds, her arms ached from the stretching.

Still Boothe lavaciously reamed her cunt, grunting with his exertions like a boar and grinding his hips into her. His balls slapped against her hairy mound and her body slowly responded to the intruder as her vulva swelled and her vagina moistened involuntarily.

Boothe slowed his thrusting pushing with slower fuller strokes sensing her arousal, fully in control and enjoying the warmth and wetness of his prey, his cock was red with her blood and it excited him in some strange fashion.

Mary sobbed, at least it would soon be over, she prayed he would unload soon and she could be released.

 

[ariosto]

Nicholas Boothe was an impetuous man in almost everything but not in this. He'd found out long ago that to tease, to torment, to drive forward and then back off, heightened his own pleasure enormously.
He was in no rush with this little tart. He would play her like a fucking violin, he began in fact to hum a small tune he'd been working on. One that he would play a bit later, on the Italian instrument his Father had given him before they left.
Maybe he'd play while he watched Old Sperle have a go at the girl...
He laughed and shook his head, the wine was making him dizzy.

*Come on now Nicholas grab a hold of Little Mary and fuck her like you mean it!*
He drove himself into the bound girl with frenzied violence for a few minutes. Deep painful thrusts that slammed against her cervix and lifted her shackled feet off the deck.
*That's it...that's it...Nicholas the stallion...Nicholas the bull...*

He wet a finger in his mouth and pushed it deep into her ass.
He felt her tense up...shudder...gasp inside the suffocating gag as he probed and twisted his way into her narrowest and most intimate of passages.
He liked feeling his thick cock moving in her cunt with his imbedded finger nearly touching it. He built up a rhythm, cock in finger out...finger in cock out...

Perhaps it was his imagination but the girls' twistings seemed not as violent as before. They seemed....
"So sweet whore, do you like my finger up your bum...Would you like my pego there as well?"
He was leaning forward over her naked back and his breath was like stale wine in her ear.

"Maybe we'll tease the pearl a bit to...whatsay you to that?"
His words were slurred but the fingers of his free hand were sure to their mark, reaching around and seizing the nub of her clitoris.
Pinching it and pulling it while her vagina received his relentless penetrations and his finger probed ever deeper in her warm bowels...

Three times he nearly released himself into her and three times held back. But the last worried him. He did everything...harder, faster...everything! Determined to go up and over...to watch his white seed mix with the frothy crimson that washed his cock and her vulva...but he couldn't!
He fell across her pressing her down cruely onto the chair back, his cock still rigid...pulsing deep inside her body.

 

[Snork Maiden]

Her tormentor appeared to be revelling in her predicament she could feel his cock throbbing with lust inside her as it slipped in and out with long deliberate thrusts. Her breasts swung in unison as he rocked against her. The air was filled with the smell of his sweaty body and the wine he had been drinking.

Mary was aware that her abuser was more than half cut, occasionally having to check himself as he lost his balance. Perhaps he would falter and stumble off of her. The fullness of his cock impaling her however, brought her suspicions into doubt, he certainly had a very thick shaft and she fought the sensations of arousal, which were sweeping through her body. She could not succumb to his stimulation; if she did she would be lost.

Without warning she felt the finger thrust into her anus. Instantly her muscles contracted trying to prevent the intrusion. Her pussy gripping the shaft of Boothe's cock tightly only seemed to excite him more.

"So sweet whore, do you like my finger up your bum...Would you like my pego there as well?"

The thought of being sodomized made her shiver, she had been taken in such away on many occasions by Montague-Smythe, it seemed to her that there was a training of this upper class in the ways of debauchery.

The finger wriggled inside her arse, keeping her clamped on the cock as it slipped forcefully back into her. She could feel her excretions trickling down her thighs they tickled. The finger was removed as Boothe slammed into her then reinserted again causing her to grip him hard. She marvelled at his skills, though it lessened not her contempt for him. She could feel a tension building in her stomach and her spine tingled as the finger continued to slip in and out of her counter pointing the thrusting member that ravaged her young vagina.

Unconsciously her body responded to Boothe, beginning to meet his thrusts. Her tongue pressed against he gag and she swallowed almost continuously gulping with each thrust.

Boothe slowed his pace, resting but still sliding in and out of her, clearly recognising she was at the point of submission. She felt his fingers groping through her furry mound

"Maybe we'll tease the pearl a bit to...whatsay you to that?"

He found it with ease. Her folds parted by his thickness, exposed the hooded bump of nerve endings that she had often teased herself. Now this man held her delicate swollen bud between his finger and thumb. His touch excited her and her vagina contracted gripping him. His motions increased in pace once more, the finger slipping easily now into her receptive anus, his cock gliding effortlessly in and out of her moist pussy whilst he tweaked and pulled her clitoris it was too much for her to resist. Feeling her orgasm building, her legs trembled against the wooden restraints of the chair that bound her. Waves of pleasure rippled up her body and she began to perspire.

She moaned into her gag as her climax broke, gripping Boothe's cock tightly as she shook violently, her already sore knees smashing into the back of the chair.

Boothe slowed his pace once more, enjoying the effects of his skillful manipulation, savouring the flood of her essence as it ran down his shaft over his balls, matting the hairs that covered his scrotum.

As her climax subsided he continued to slowly penetrate her with long strokes, pulling out of her his cock twitching in the cool air of the cabin before sliding the full length back into the warm wet sheath of her cunt. He groaned with pleasure his fingers continuing to manipulate her button whilst his other hand fingered her anus. He was close now, close to the point of no return,

Mary could feel her second orgasm build she was on fire. Her arse pushed against the man attempting to meet his thrusts as best she could. Her head tossed violently and sweat dripped from her nose, her arms ached from the stretching but the pain served only to heighten her own arousal.

The second orgasm was more intense her body froze, rigid as the muscles spasmed, her vagina erupted gripping and relaxing in powerful waves, Boothe thrust hard and fast into her serving to reach his own peak. He panted and groaned, the exertion finally taking it toll. The rippling of her cunt brought him finally to climax, thrusting deep into her he unloaded his thick semen in powerful pulses. Mary could feel him throb inside her his sperm pouring into her like molten metal. Boothe uttered a loud groan of satisfaction and collapsed panting onto her back remaining motionless as his cock continued to spasm and his balls emptied into her.

 

[ariosto]

Lord Nicholas last attempt to satisfy himself paid off when he felt her spasm uncontrolably, squeezing his cock with viselike strength as it thrust it's deepest into her sweating, twisting body. Her legs tensed and quivered and he felt a warm rush of her spend flow over his fingers as they frigged her swollen pearl and bathe his erection with silken heat.
It was enough to hurl him finally over the edge and he responded with a wrenching release of his own. Hot thick cum geysered into her cunt as she continued to shudder lost within her own orgasm.
It seemed to last forever...pulsing over and over again, he emptied himself into her with a violence that left him drained and empty.

****************

The ship was rolling dangerously and Boothe felt sick.
His eyes opened to a swirling nimbus of dim yellow light and the sound of a woman moaning.
He blinked and tried to collect himself. The world would not stay still. The light he saw slowly coalesced into the overhead lantern swaying in rapid arcs from side to side. The sound he heard was from the girl....from Mary Beth, who still was tied to the bulkhead, still bent cruelly over the chair.
Boothe threw his long legs over the bed and staggered to his feet.
The ship was pitching violently and fear momentarily consumed him. Were they in danger...would they founder...sink! Good God he couldn't swim!

"Can you swim girl?" his voice was weak.

"Please sir, untie me...I'm in most cruel pain."

He looked at her and saw in addition to the caked blood on her thighs yet more crimson on the back of the chair and on her wrists where the leather and hard wood had bit into her with each roll of the ship.
Nicholas took a knife from the table where he'd used it to cut the thick slab of stilton cheese and lurched over to her, slicing through the restraints and barely missing the arteries in her wrists.

She collapsed in a heap on the deck and Boothe fell back onto his
bunk on the verge of being very sick.

"God's blood girl, look at us. Which one of us is worse off..."
The ship creaked threateningly and rolled Mary Beth against his legs.
"I think we're both on a journey t'hell."

 

[Snork Maiden]

Throughout her ordeal, Mary Beth had been unaware of the change in the ship's motion. Now however, with Boothe sprawled, incapacitated through the combination of drink and exertion she noticed the ship rolled more vigorously in the water.

The weight of the man combined with her own, caused the bindings to cut more viciously into her wrists. Her arms and back ached from the exertion and extension they had been subjected to and she felt faint and nauseous. She tried to dislodge him but he was too heavy to shift and her own movements were confined not only by her bonds but by the pain that resulted when she tried to move.

Finally he stirred forcing himself off of her pressing into her back as he gained his stance causing her more excruciating pain in her wrists, the bonds cutting more deeply into her delicate skin. She let out a low cry, muffled by her gag.

She watched his reflection in the stern window as he staggered and fell backwards onto his bunk. The lanterns swung violently indicating the extent of the yawing of the boat as it rose and fell in the heavy sea. She felt cold and shivered the exertion now over, her perspiration evaporating and chilling her skin. Her body responded, covering her with goose flesh, her fine hairs rising on her arms and back in an attempt to insulate her.

Boothe's semen oozed from her vulva and trickled down her leg, pink as it mixed with her menstrus, she felt tired and dirty, her whole body brutalised. Her legs ached, her knees were smashed and bleeding, her stomach sore from the back of the chair where she had been bent over, her back and arms ached from supporting her weight and her anus from Boothe's violent intrusions. Her face was red and swollen from his earlier beating and her chipped tooth had begun to ache.

She groaned in agony blinking the tears from her eyes, causing them to roll over her already salt stained cheeks.

Boothe's voice cut the silence of the cabin, 'Can you swim Girl?'

The question mocked at her, even if she could, the heavy chain around her ankles would surely prevent her from any such action.

The question frightened Mary. Again her doubts about seeing the dawn flashed back into her mind.

'He's going to through me overboard.' She thought to herself convinced that now he had finished with her, she would be discarded to prevent her from humiliating him with tales of his debauchery'

Unable to speak she shook her head to indicate she couldn't and waited for the next taunt.

She watched his reflection as he recovered the knife from the table. Her window mirror reflected its sharp blade as he approached her. She began to struggle, he was going to cut her throat and frantically she tugged and pulled at her bonds as he drew closer to her. Standing beside her, she watched the blade raise, her eyes filled with fear. She closed them and waited for the deadly cut, 'Let it be quick', she thought

She felt the bonds on her wrists pull slightly as he cut them. She collapsing over the chair as the rope finally slipped free of the iron ring. Booth continued to release her leg bonds and then he pulled her up allowing her to rest on the deck of the cabin.

His task complete he fell back on the bunk. Mary lay still momentarily before reaching up to pull the gag from her mouth. She inhaled; exhausted she remained lying on the wooden floor.

"God's blood girl, look at us. Which one of us is worse off..." me muttered from the bed.

'Did she really need to answer that ?', she thought to herself, sobbing quietly.

 

[SexyChele]

Lisbeth

She was awakened from her fitful sleep by the feeling of her body being raised from the floor. Lisbeth struggled against the arms that held her, even as she realized she fought against the Captain. She cried out into the dimness of the cabin, suspecting that no man would dare disturb the man who controlled the ship.

As he laid her on his bed, she found her body trembling and knew her eyes relfected her fear of would would happen next. As he ran his hands over her body, she tried to deny the pleasurable sensations flowing through her body, but it was of no use.

As he drew himself up, Lisbeth was amazed at the sheer height of him. She shrank back slightly with fear, fully aware of what this man could do.

What is your name?

She almost jumped at the timber of his voice - the first she had heard it. Yet, the very sound of it compelled her to answer him.

"I - I am Lisbeth Adams, S - Sir!"

Why did she stutter as a scared schoolgirl in front of this man? Summoning up her courage, Lisbeth drew her legs up under her and sat up slightly, using her hands to steady herself on the bed. She was keenly aware that her hair tumbled about her shoulders and her breasts heaved with every breath she took.

"But even though I be your prisoner, I'll not be scared of you!"

Had she said that out loud? She hadn't meant to. Yet, even in the dimness of the Cabin, she could see the slightly smile creep across his face, and she wondered what it meant.

 

[ariosto]

Boothe's moments of self pity though frequent, never lasted long and they didn't now.

"Girl...go eat something if you want it."
He gestured at the table where cheese and bread lay heaped along the raised edges, tossed there helterskelter by the ships motion.
"And bring me some wine...it's over there in that chest."

Mary Beth made no move to do anything, until she felt his boot heels against her back.

"Get it for me Dammit girl! Or I'll fuckin' lash you up again here!"
He gave her a push and she staggered to her feet unsteadily. The chest was open and she took the first bottle that came into her hand and thrust it at him.
Nicholas looked at the wine and frowned.
"That's a port girl, I'll not have a port now! Good God...I'll get it myself!"

He lurched up from his bunk at the same time the ship gave another sickening roll and he was hurled against Mary Beth, both of them catching up short by the table, Boothes body bearing her down onto the top.
He felt her naked and alive beneath him and inspite of himself began to stiffen against her.

"You're a damned pretty girl..."
His breath was hot and full of alcohol,
"...ain't you?"
He kissed her face and throat. Her hands were locked to the table edges. She was ready to endure another assault.
His lips closed on her nipples and she felt them drawn inside. His hands began to squeeze her breasts most cruelly. She felt his teeth...

"WEAR SHIP!"
Came a sudden cry from above and abruptly the Faire Winds heeled hard to port. Nicholas lost his footing and crashed into larboard bulkhead hard.

 

[Brandon11721]

Kyle

Kyle, his steady hand upon the sextant, gazed up into the starry night. The chill Western breeze blew through his seaman's apparel, challenging his concentration.

A young man born of the sea, third son of his father who captained a ship until his passing, Kile had found a different passion in life. He longed to explore, to discover new lands and chart their geographies. Since childhood he was taken by cartography and had been drawn to charts and navigation. His skill in this regard had always kept him well employed, first in the British navy, then later and more profitably with merchant ships.

After many journies, he had tired of charting the now familiar waters of the Americas and Africa. Kyle longed to be a true explorer. He had taken but one real expedition so far in his 33 years, under the wing of an established explorer, trekking deeply into Nigeria in a quest to map Africa's breadth. The expedition had failed, they turned back without reaching their goal. But the journey had sturred within Kyle a thirst for exploration that could never be quenched.

Upon returning, he drew plans for a new journey, a conquest yet unchallenged by the British: to explore the interior of Australia. Vast, wild, unknown: the perfect proving ground for his dream. But such undertakings require deep funding and connections, of which he had neither.

He had proposed his journey to many interested philanthropists, but had been turned down by all until he met Lord Stonington. He had eyed him carefully, said he would take it under consideration, and asked him to return a a few days later. In their second meeting, he had pledged to fund the expedition; "On one condition," he had said coldly, "just a favor really."

Kyle was desperate to live his dream, and to beat others to the interior of Australia. So he had agreed to the pact: murder Lord Boothe, and funding would follow. Arrangements were made to find him a post as a mate and navigator upon the Faire Wind.

Staring into the sky, recording their position for the captain's log, he had not noticed their impending peril. When the ship jolted he was flung across the deck like a rag doll.

 

[dannyb2777]

Danny crouched by his sister, or what was left of her in the hold of the ship. Knowing that it was not him who had done wrong, and not him who had been sent to Austa-land or something like that, would not help him if he were caught here in the hold. It was just too painful for him to let his sister go to this far away place without anyone in the world. Even with the knowledge that it was his sister and her love of the opium pipe that had gotten her sent away in the first place. Danny had hidden himself among the fresh water barrels in the hold. Lying low when someone struggeld for their meager bit of water.

This had gone well for the early part of the voyage, then his sister had started to feel the shakes involved in her forced seperation from the opium pipe. The shakes had gotten worse and worse, until finally coming to her brother one night she could no longer get up to leave him. She lay there shaking cold and feeling all alone despite her brother next to her. Danny watched as his sister died.

 

[PmTick]

Cristo Daniels

I had been below the deck this entire time, the mixture of salt water and heat from the sun irritated the wound on my hand. Not wanting to dwell on my injury any further I decided to go above and converse with the others.

 

[Snork Maiden]

The boat rolled violently causing the lanterns to swing on their hooks and the flames flickered and flared. Lying on the decking Mary could hear the pitiful moans and groans of the rapist now sprawled on his back suffering from seasickness. Good, she thought to herself,I hope you suffer the rest of the voyage.

Her thoughts were cut short mind, as Boothe sat up and ordered her to fetch a bottle of wine from the chest. Her instincts were to respond with a get it yourself, the reality, she lay still and ignored him, if he wanted it that badly he would have to get it himself anyway.

She didn't hear him rise but she felt the harsh toe of his boot crashing into her already sore and aching back. She screamed with pain, struggling onto her sore and cut knees, the ankle chains rubbing her skinless heels relentlessly as she rolled over.
Why are you so mean? she sobbed crawling towards the chest. Pulling herself to her feet, blinded by tears, she reached into the chest and pulled a bottle out and staggered back to the man. Catching hold of the table to steady herself as the ship continued to roll, the thought to smash it across his head entered her mind, but she was too weak and sore to start a fight she knew she had little better chance of winning. Instead she held the bottle out toward him her arm shaking with fear and nervous exhaustion.

Taking the bottle from her he read the label. For a moment she thought he was going to throw it at her, but instead laid it down beside him on the bed and complained about it being a bottle of Port.

His anger stoked once more he made his way to fetch his own bottle, lunging forward as the ship rolled suddenly more violently and throwing him of balance. Catching her by the arm she collapsed under his weight pulling him down on top of her her head hitting the wooden tabletop with a violent thud sending the cheese and bread to scatter onto the floor. Her hands trapped under her own weight she was pinned. Boothe became aroused again groping and molesting her. His face pressed against her own and wet slobbering kisses followed. His breath was short and stank of stale wine. Mary was too sore and tired to fight, practically a corpse already she closed her eyes and prayed for the Lord God to take her there and then.

Suddenly a yell from above caused him to stand bolt right and he staggered crashing into the bulkhead hard.

Seeing him dazed and incapacitated she saw her chance to escape, remembering Boothe had failed to lock the door she pulled herself from the table and staggered over to the door, pulling on the latch it opened to a corridor with a stairway heading up at one end. With the commotion going on above her head, she felt sure her could make it to safety. The chain dragged heavily as she climbed the steps, pushing on the deck hatch. The cold wind rushed at her, the sea was stormy and there was spray and salt in the air. Emerging onto the deck she staggered to keep her balance, the wind blew strongly her hair already wet from the spray that lashed across her face. Suddenly the ship rolled to port violently causing her to loose her balance and roll across the deck crashing into the side of the boat.

She sat and huddled in the darkness watching the sailors rushing about, preparing.

 

[afternooner]

Riley

Awakened by the dim light coming through the hatchway that stood ajar above him, Riley looked around, most of the prisioners were still sleeping restlessly but some had sat up with their heads hung down in front of them, retching in pain as the ship pitched violently from side to side.

He had no real knowledge of ships and sailng but he quickly figured out that something was awry. Perhaps they were in a storm or had run aground or maybe struck by another ship. At any rate he knew that this was the time to make an escape from this terrible hole.

Get up he hollered get up and follow me

He felt if they rushed the deck in numbers they could surpise whoever was on deck and still alive, they might be able to escape. If they were washed over the side at least they had not gone down without trying. There was little response. Those sleeping had awakened but turned away from him as if to say who cares we're dead any way why even bother.

He shouted again,

Follow me, what use is it to die like rats in this hell hole.

A few struggled after him as he made his way toward the hatch and freedom.

He scooped up a child and putting him on his back, scoped up one more putting her under under his arm. He started up the ladder as the ship lurched.

He felt as if his arm was being pulled from his body as he held tight and climbed toward the light... Toward freedom.

 

[SexyChele]

Public Service Announcement....

OOC: Sorry to disturb, guys and gals, but our Captain, Big Dawg, has been experiencing internet connection problems since his return home this past weekend. He hopes to be back online by tomorrow (Thursday, 5/23). I hope to see him then.


And now - back to our scheduled program......

 

[BigDawg69]

Pithe stood straight bowing out his large chest and chuckled down at the frail woman curled in his bed. The rolling of the ship was almost undetectable as he stood strong peering down at her.

“Not afraid of me, Miss Adams?” He quipped with a low chuckle.

He turned from her and moved back to the large oak table. Striking a match on its rough surface, Pithe lit the lamp swinging from the rafter. He poured a new goblet of wine and took a long drink, looking directly at her. The lamp swung wildly behind his head causing a great shadow to cross the entire breadth of the cabin.

“Perhaps you should be, Miss Adams. Everyone else is.”

Lisbeth curled her legs tighter underneath of her as she raised herself a bit higher. “What do you intend with me, sir?” She asked as bravely as she could muster, still trembling.

“I intend to sell you. Perhaps you should fear your future owner.” Pithe seemed to growl the words.

Lisbeth’s eyes opened wide at the sound of Pithe’s words. He looked at her, and made eye contact. In that moment something touched him. He narrowed his eyes, as he looked at her, fragile and beautiful on his bed.

“Perhaps I shall keep you as my own.” The words uttered forth before he could stop them.

Pithe angered with himself slammed the goblet back down as the ship pitched and drove the wine bottle to the floor with a loud crash flinging red wine. Pithe spun around to her, and stalked close to the bed. He leaned in on the bed his body coming close to hers. She backed into the corner, but Pithe’s large body allowed him to drive his face close to hers.

Lisbeth trembled as Pithe pressed his face mere millimeters from hers. He inhaled deeply and snapped his eyes up to hers. Glaring into her soul, Pithe allowed a small smile to cross his face.

“Funny, I smell the sweet scent of fear in you.” He whispered to her.

“WEAR SHIP”

The call came from above, and Pithe stood straight quickly. He pulled on his shirt and wrapped his long black cloak around him once more. Striding toward the door, Pithe turned to look at Lisbeth just before stepping out.

“I trust to find you hear when I return. No harm can come to you, as long as you stay in here. Leave this room and I will not guarantee your safety.” Pithe boomed at her as he stepped out locking the door from the outside.

Pithe took long powerful strides to the quarterdeck, the wind lashing at his cloak. He barked orders to several sailors as men mounted the rigging and changed the sails. Pithe stepped to the ladder to the quarterdeck when he detected slight movement in the corner of his eye. He looked down to see a small woman huddling naked against the side rail of the ship.

“Find another and go below. Kill the first prisoner you see, rebind all the wrists. Secure the ankles to the hull rings! Do it now!” Pithe boomed at a rather large sailor that was passing by. Releasing a tight grip from the man’s arm Pithe sent him to his duty.

Turning to the shivering woman, Pithe walked up to her. The wind whipped through his hair and cloak but did not move him. He looked over the lash marks on her, the swollen eye, and the rips in her skin by her ankles. Boothe. Pithe’s face withered into a nasty scowl at the thought of the “noble.”

The ship pitched back causing the woman to grab hold of the railing to keep from falling into Pithe. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. There almost seemed to be no life left there. Pithe broke from his stare down at the frail creature to the activity by the wheel. Sudden was his turn from her as he strode up to the quarterdeck.

 

[afternooner]

riley

almost out of the hatch, Riley saw the bulk of a big man in his way. he grabed the frightened lad from his shoulders and tossed him like a doll around the man coming down, along with the other lass he had under his arm he plunged into him roaring defiantly. thgrowing him like a sack of potatoes over his back and behind him.

It will be a cold day in hell before you put me back in irons as he knew that was the mans purpose, a key ring straped to his side.

The man flew down in the hold and as many as there were following Riley scampered eagerly into the open air. he closed the hatch and locked it. Smiling triumphantly. urging the children to hide under the lifeboats or any place dark and quiet he hid himself as well, as there was no point in making a target of himself until the storm or whatever caused this ship to heave the way it did was past..

There was an erie silence except for the roaring of the wind.

 

[PmTick]

Cristo Daniels

The sound of a hatch coming down turned my attention over to the otherside of the deck. I glanced over at the man, with his child, and turned my attention back to the sea. I couldn't wait to get off this barge, I hate boats.

 

[Snork Maiden]

She watched as the man who had discovered her naked and pitiful body turned and strode powerfully away back towards the quarterdeck. She shivered as the cruel wind lashed at her, her cuts and sore stang as the sea water entered the wounds. Tears of regret and pain running down her face.

She thought of her brotheres and younger sisters back in Somerset. Her poor father whom she had disgraced and whom she knew would never want to see her again. Her life was ended, the brutality she had recieved on the first night of the voyage that would doubtless take months to complete, if it ever did loomed before her with grim forboding.

She felt sick, it took all her remaining strength to pull herself up on to her feet clinging to the ships rail. The cold dark sea sounded in her ears as the ship cut through the waves, she could hear the sound of the sheets falling above her as the sailors carried out thier tasks they were too busy to even notice her as she pulled herself slowly over the side of the ship.

A strong gust caught her as the ship dipped, any thought or chance to change her mind was carried away with the strong breeze as her hands lost their grip on the slippery wooden railing.

The coldness of the water shocked her and she in hailed choking on the briney water as the weight of the ankle chains towed her downward. Everything was quieter, her lungs filled with water, and the suffocating panic she had encountered was replaced with a numbing cold spreading through her body. The waters became darker as she sank deeper, a feeling of peace spread over her as she drifted from consciousness, her spirit finally released from her tortured body, which landed softly on the sandy bottom of the North Atlantic ocean, somewhere off the coast of Western France

 

[SexyChele]

Lisbeth

As the captain loomed over her, Lisbeth suddenly realized the folly of her words but knew there was nothing to be done about it. She tried to pull herself up, tried to appear brave and uncaring, when inside she felt herself trembling. At his words of being sold, her body was consumed with fear. Such things were not unheard of. He mind flew about in a dead panic - should she try to act calm or should she beg for mercy?

She barely heard his next words, and she looked up him with a question in her eyes before she realized that he had commented on keeping her for himself. She looked over the length of him - attracted to him, yet she could see his strength and feel his commanding presence.

As he slammed the goblet down, Lisbeth flinched, and huddled back against the wall. As the wine spilled, Lisbeth watched its arching pattern. Suddenly she looked up and the captain was leaning over her. Surprised, her body recoiled in fear, but there was no way out.

Funny, I smell the sweet scent of fear in you.

His face was close to hers, and she could see him clearly. She was almost afraid to look at him, yet she did. Suddenly, the ship pitched wildly, and Lisbeth had to grab onto the side to keep from tumbling over. She looked up at the captain, whose stanch barely indicated that he felt anything.

His impatience was evident as he swung round and put on his shirt. Lisbeth looked overhead - the noise, the commotion. What could it be?

Her attention was brought back to the captain as he crossed to the door. His final words as he crossed the threshold caught in her brain. As the door slammed shut, Lisbeth found she was holding her breath.

Slowly she exhaled and began to breath normally. Looking about the cabin, she wondered if she got up, walked through the door if she could find a place to hide on this ship. She would be missed, true, but maybe Riley could hide her somehow.

Suddenly the captain's face rose before her eyes, and Lisbeth shivered. If she should be found hiding on board surely her punishment would be harsh. She grabbed a pillow from the bed and hugged it close to her. Putting her back against the bulkhead, Lisbeth tried to sort out what she should do.

Wait. She should wait, and avoid any further punishment. Unless the sounds from up above proved an attack was underway. Lisbeth curled herself into a ball, and kept her eyes on the door. Eventually, her eyelids became heavy and sleep overcame her.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Catherine Smythe

OOC: Chele, here's my background post. I'll bring her along into the current situation later today.

IC: The violent pitch and yaw of the ship awakened her from the dreams of her life before this nightmare began. She had been sitting quietly in her snug parlor a small fire burning in the grate, a book and a glass of wine on the table beside her chair. Catherine had enjoyed these small pleasures and the independence of living alone. The fates had finally provided a sponsor wealthy enough to set her up in her own house and with accounts for her needs. Living well within the generous allowance given to her each month, she had been saving for the day that she would retire to the country and live in a cottage that was hers alone.

She would have remained the mistress of one of Londons’ less powerful Lords had all gone according to plan. She had always kept to herself, being ever mindful of the need to be available at a moments notice, should her protector desire her company. However, recent events had kept him from her and she had become lonely and bored with her own company.

“Lack of discipline,” she told herself now. “All this, because you lacked discipline Catherine. Never forget this lesson.”

After several weeks of isolation and particularly dismal weather, the beaconing sun had lured her into the nearby park. Strolling along the sunny paths she had lost herself in the afternoon. When she reached the small pond at the center of the park she turned to make her way back home.

Suddenly a woman staggered from the bushes along the path and fell against Catherine, knocking them both to the ground.

“Help me please, they mean to take me…”a shaky sigh escaped the woman as her eyes closed. Stunned disbelief turned to terror as Catherine realized that the sticky wetness on her hands where they support the woman is blood and that the woman has not swooned, but is dead.

The rest, was fodder for the gossips. The dead woman had been a thief, and not a very good one. Her death was the result of a failed attempt at escape from the city guards. Thinking her to be an accomplice, the guards had arrested Catherine on the spot. Without a husband or good family to speak for her, she was unable to convince the prosecutors of her innocence. As one had put it, “Someone must pay, and it may as well be you as her.” The judge who sentenced her claimed to feel pity, and so she has landed aboard the Faire Wind.