Faire Wind

[SexyChele]

An OOC Narrative

OOC:

Normally, I dislike having to interrupt a thread, however in light of recent events, I think it necessary to do a recap of events at this point so all players are brought up to date.


The Faire Wind has reached the western coast of France, after having made fairly good time leaving Bristol Harbor. Captain Pithe had noted his ship appeared to be followed by another ship, the Siren Song, and had worried about it before ordering one of the girls, Lisbeth Adams, brought up from the hold of prisoners to his cabin.

A noble, Lord Boothe, wishing a dalliance had been granted a prisoner, a one Mary Wilkes. His abuse of her had left her badly injured and frightened, and she had managed to escape his cabin to try to hide on the quarterdeck.

The crew are going about their business, but as night comes on, there is less to do. Captain Pithe takes his leave to go to his cabin. Suddenly, in the middle of the night an alarm has sounded. Captain Pithe, rushing to see what is happening, notices one of the prisoners (Mary Wilkes), but is caught up in the rush to figure out what is amiss. After being discovered, and in the ensuing chaos, Mary manages to slip over the side of the ship, taking her own life.

A handful of prisoners have attempted to get free of the hold, lead by a large Irishman, who goes by the name of Riley. He is subdued on deck and is brought before the Captain to determine his punishment.

Also aboard the Faire Wind is Miss Catherine Smyth. She has managed to stay in her cabin during the initial fray.

Lord Boothe slumbers in his cabin, not yet noticing the missing girl from his room.

Lisbeth Adams awaits asleep in the Captain's cabin, unsure of her fate.

There is another, a noblewoman of strong character, who is also on board, who is soon to make her presence known.




This should bring the story current. If anyone has any questions, please, feel free to contact me via PM.

Let the games continue!

 

[BigDawg69]

The new winds near the edge of the weather front had caught the crew of the Faire Wind off guard in the blackness of the oceanic night. Reconfiguring the rigging and a slight alteration in course had reset the old ship to the lazy creaking as the early morning approached. Pithe stood tall his ship calming with his powerful presence and command.

A slight insurgence from one restless Irishman had been quickly but not quietly quelled. Pithe’s anger grew deep within him as he wished to be back comfortably in his own cabin. He ordered the man before him. The crew of the ship had subdued the large man with force, much and excessive force. Beaten, but not broken the Irishman hung from a pole scarred and bloodied in front of the captain. Were it not for his dropped shoulders and weakened legs, the Irishman would have stood as tall as Pithe. In fact it had taken several members of the crew using clubs to bring the big man down and lash him to the large pole.

Pithe stepped to the hanging man, lifting his bloodied chin with a long finger. Peering into the man’s defiant eyes, “Where were ya goin’ Irishman?” Pithe grumble out low and forceful.

The Irishman squinted through swollen eyes back at the captain. His mouth drew up and he spat a vile combination of saliva and blood at the captain’s face. Pithe reeled back in one motion backhanding the Irishman hard across the face, jerking his head to the side.

“I should have ye killed. I should kill ye me-self.” Pithe growled at the man. He stood tall and looked at him for a moment. Pithe seemed to growl with each breath as he eyed the man. “String him up by the yard arm!” Pithe’s words shot forth like cannon fire through the night.

The sailor’s made quick work to raise the Irishman off the deck still with his arms tied and stretched out on the pole. The large man dangled from the yardarm his feet high above the deck. Pithe walked over to the railing of the quarterdeck and eyed the man. Defiance still portrayed in his mind as he shot a look back at the captain.

“Do you no why the English say Irish are worse than dogs?” The man dangled in obvious pain, his feet began to kick and jerk. “’Cause they can’t be trained?” Pithe boomed with an evil grin. “But I think they don’t need ye to be trained. Prove me wrong and ye’ll die. Prove me right and ye might earn ye freedom. Think I’m fibbin’ then ask me first mate. Mr. Wallace was once an angry Scot from the very same hold ye just broke out of. Now he’s just an angry Scot who’s me first mate.” Pithe turned and walked back the entrance to his cabin. Just before going inside he turned back to the man hanging there. “Think about that while ye hang there. When the mornin’ comes perhaps ye’ll have a better attitude than to spit in any man’s face agin.”

Pithe turned and disappeared inside the ship.

 

[ariosto]

Recovering his wits was a slow and painful business that was hastened somewhat by the spouds of struggle and violence coming from above.
Boothe looked around the cluttered cabin for the girl but she was no where within.
Fuck her then. There were plenty more to be had.

"Sperles!"
In a trice the Clerk was at the door, handing him a brace of pistols.
"Mutiny m'lord. The convicts are trying to overthrow the ship. Come quick and keep your wits about you."
Nicholas noticed that his 'man' was carrying a heavy horse pistol in his own hands. Hands much steadier than his own.

They emerged on deck only to run right into Captain Pithe.

"So Mister Boothe, you've decided to unhouse your cock long enough to see what's afoot have you?...As you can tell your a bit late."
Pithe pointed over his shoulder at the trussed up Irishmen and the last of the convicts being herded back into the hold.
"Better luck next time eh, Governor."
Brushing past him brusquely the Captain disappeared below decks.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Catherine

The groans and screams of the wooden vessel had stopped sometime before the dawn. Now, the Faire Wind sang as she moved through the water. Some on board were lulled by the voice of the wind in the sails and the slap of waves against her hull. Others, not so fortunate, heard only the pounding of an alien sea and the boom of canvas that caught the brisk morning air. Catherine felt the change in the ships attitude as soon as she woke, and hearing the familiar sounds of the vessel and crew she murmured a quick prayer of thanks for their safe passage through the night.

The mercy of the sentencing judge, and a generous share of her hard won savings, allowed her to book passage into exile, rather than to be transported as a prisoner, for this, she had uttered daily thanks as well. Having seen the unfortunates come aboard, she was grateful that she did not share their fate in full. She did have in common with them the fact that she, too, was leaving England for good, but for her the voyage at least was not part of the punishment.

Splashing her face and hands with tepid water, she does her best to make herself presentable. Although it hardly matters, she thinks ruefully. Since the voyage began she has seen no one but the cabin boy, Jacob. It was he who brought her the tasteless meals that she took alone in the closet of a room. He also saw to it that the chamber pot was emptied daily and that she had some idea of their progress.

This morning, Jacob was full of news, and clearly in no hurry to leave her company and be about his other duties. With obvious excitement he related the story of the capture of the Irish prisoner, and the unexpected mercy of Captain Pithe. She asked about the condition of the crew, wondering if there were any injuries during the nights’ activities.

Having some knowledge of healing, she wonders if the Captain might find her skills useful. Deciding that any activity would be better than spending another day closed inside, she asks Jacob to carry an offer of assistance to the fearsome commander.

 

[Queen_of_Hearts]

OOC:
Name: Anne Wellington
Age: 24
Hair: Blonde
Eyes: Blue
Background: A woman who comes from the aristocracy, whose family has arranged that she marry a low-ranking official who is in Botany Bay. Anne was forced into the upcoming marriage due to her growing reputation for her odd erotic appetite within London society.

IC:

Anne bristled in her cabin, her body feeling as though she were going to explode. She sat down heavily on the bed in her cabin, having paced the floor countless times. Why she had agreed to this ridiculous farce of a marriage, she could no longer remember. Already she missed her rooms in her late father's house, the friends who shared the, uh, proclivities as herself, the parties, society in general.

Her father has died just a mere 6 months before, and she was angry at him for leaving her in the position she was in. Her father had always been willing to hide her indiscretions, he made excuses for her, and smoothed things over when Anne had crossed too many people. But now her father was dead, and her eldest brother in charge of her father's estate. She lived on his charity and generosity, which was just barely civil. Well, actually, they hated each other, and had since they were children. Her sister-in-law was no better - a religious prude who Anne had no use for.

Anne had spent very little time in the house that was now her brother's, and spent more time pursuing her debauchery. While her father lived, she had managed to keep most of it in tact. Now that he was dead, she ran with a free reign, not thinking there was no longer anyone to catch her.

The boy with whom she was discovered had been pretty enough. Certainly willing to follow her every command. He had been a nice plaything for her. Yes, perhaps she had gone just a bit too far with the crop. She had never really meant to break his skin or cause serious injury. Besides, he seemed to enjoy it as much as she. But when his injuries were discovrered by the doctor, the blame was put squarely on her shoulders, and her family to shame.

Something had to be done with Anne - but what? The countryside would not hold her. London society was gossiping about her already now that her secret life was bared for all. Her brother had hoped to marry her off as soon as their father died, but now no man of good standing would have her.

Except one.

John Cavanaugh who was currently filling a low-ranking position in some place called Botany Bay had family who was eager to see him wed, and an heir produced. The families had reached an agreement, and her brother had booked passage on this ship. Anne had been drugged slightly, and brought aboard yesterday, hardly realizing what was happening to her. She regained her senses only after they were at sea.

Anne was upset at leaving London, and most assuredly upset at being hurriedly married off to a man she'd not ever met. But most of all she missed her playthings. Men willing to place themselves under her spell, and under her direction, for her pleasure. Sometimes she would even let them find pleasure. If they were deserving. But now, she had no one!

At the first sounds of the ruckus above, Anne stayed fearfully in her cabin. She had no wish to die before her time, and she could only hope that all would be over soon. When things did appear to quieten down, her curiosity got the best of her. As well, her stomach, since she hadn't eaten in what must have been over 24 hours. She snatched a woolen cloak about her shoulders, making sure she held it secure in front of her so as to protect her gown, and raising the hood to keep the chill air off her neck.

Stepping from her cabin, Anne could already smell the musty odor of below decks. Climbing carefully, her full skirts scrapping the sides of the railing, Anne reaches the upper deck, and the power of the sea air hits her with a force. The brisk air fills her lungs and clears her head. She notices that the crew glance at her, some longer than others, and she suspects she will get to play with one or two during the voyage. Perhaps the Captain is an understanding man?

Her attention is captured by a man hanging from some sort of wooden pole, and Anne is immediately intrigued. Where others might feel revulsion at the sight of a man hanging, Anne feels her body tingling, her nipples hardening under the clothing she wears. She steps closer, and notices the man is older than she usually prefers, and has already been beaten. But this only causes her blood to stir. She steps closer, and notices the man's face is etched in agony. How lovely, how exquisite. And such a large man - all the better to be brought to his knees before her.

Anne's mind was racing so quickly, she hadn't heard the words spoken to her. She realized that she was being spoken to, and turned to find a wizened old man next to her.

"Miss? Is there somethin' I kin do for ye?"

Anne glanced back at the man hanging before her, and decided to take a chance.

"Yes, I was wondering if I might have a word with the Captain about this man here. Do you know where he is?"

"Why, he's gone below decks, ma'am. To get some sleep, I suppose. I'l wager he'll not be seen till morning becomes lighter - if then. He's got himself a fine wench waiting for 'im!"

Anne ignored the baudy comment, and avoided the exhale of bad breath from his laughter.

"Well, I wish to see him, as soon as possible. I have need of a servant, and I believe this man here will fulfill my purposes just fine. I wish him to be brought to my cabin at once."

"But ma'am, that there man is being punished, and Cap'n, he ain't through with 'im yet!"

"He's through with him as of now. Please tell the Captain what I wish. Tell him the demand is made by Lady Anne Wellington. That should satisfy any curiosity he may have. I will be in my cabin. I trust you will deliver the message."

Without waiting for a reply, Anne heaved up her skirts and headed back down to her cabin, her heart racing. Yes, the man up there would fill her purposes nicely, Very nicely indeed!

 

[Mayas_Fury]

She roused to the copper tang of blood filling her mouth, her side complained with a cramping sting of pain. Eyes opening slowly to discover it's cause was an overturned chair's leg pinning her against the wall. A slight heft and the source of discomfort was removed, the after-effect however was not. Her hand moved to press against the bruised spot as sleep leaked reluctantly from her body. A glance revealed Kalen crumpled in a heap near the bed, tangle of sheets had cushioned his fall apparently.

Quickly donning shirt and breeches she flew from her cabin in a fury. Her side hurt, her rest interrupted, her belongings strewn about... someone would pay. A quick response from a crewman upon seeing her rather ferocious exit, their captain was not happy.

"Rogue wave Cap'n!"

The back of her fist answered his mouth's reply sending him sprawling to the deck, easily twice her size this daunted him as he amazingly enough had yet to have been struck in this manner.

"My giddy aunt it were! ON DECK NOW ALL O' YE!!"

Several of the crew relayed the call as she glanced port spying Pithe's ship a bit closer in the distance than she had planned to keep it. Her voice bellowed through the air rooting every hand to their current spot, the inky tangles of her hair whipped about her like Medusa's serpents.

"WHY IN THE BLOODY 'ELL ARE WE SO CLOSE TO THAT BLASTED SHIP?!"

Stricken in silence, no answer came from any of them.

"I'd better get an answer or some of ye're work loads are gonna double... and cookie'll 'ave less mouths to feed."

Her sudden calm reminded them all of just why she earned... "Maelstrom". Her crew was made of molten lead as a voice finally chimed in.

"I was told we're gonna hail 'em."

The kingdom of hell would no longer appease the bounty set on the voice's owner's head, she would see to that. A fire burned hot in her soul, this only fuled the dangerous flames.

 

[afternooner]

Riley

Having hung there for some time, impaled it seemed and lashed upon a sort of woden post, Riley came to, wondering about how he had gotten there and what was going to become of him. The last he remembered he was struck from behind and clubbed into unconsiousness .

Now his skin broken his body throbing with unberable pain, he gazed about him, the ship was in no peril as he had thought. He had been foolhearty to try to escape he knew that now. He winced as salt water spray unindated his open wounds. He longed for death to take him, take him from this constant pain and suffering.

It was inevitable, he thought. At any rate, what use was he to them now, a broken man, no spirit, no will to live. He tried to cry out, to tell them to end his suffering but only a hoarse croak came out of his parched and bleeding lips.

He saw them coming for him, their faces full of hate and loathing. Mentally he crossed himself ready to meet his maker, knowing that they were there to finish it. He felt himself being dragged across the deck through a creaking door and pushed inside a room where he blacked out again.

 

[BigDawg69]

Pithe boomed through the door and into his cabin. He stood there for a moment allowing the peaceful sight of Lisbeth’s sleep calm his anger. He chose not to wake her, but moved to his table and poured a goblet of water. Tossing his heavy black cloak aside, Pithe sat at the table and pulled out his charts once more. Dipping the quill in ink, he began to make his notes once more in the leather bound book.

A timid knock broke the silence as Pithe worked. His head rose slowly from the charts and book. His eyes narrowed. “Aye.” He spoke with a low growl from deep in his body.

“Captain sir, may I have a moment?” A timid voice spoke through the heavy door.

Pithe turned in his chair, pausing to glance over the still sleeping Lisbeth. Slowly he stood and walked to the door, he opened it and glared down at the young cabin boy in front of him. The boy recoiled slightly from Pithe’s towering figure. Silence loomed in the air between them.

“Well? What is it, boy?” The captain spoke heavily.

“Uhm sir, yes Miss Catherine has offered her services as a nurse should you need them sir?” The boy’s voice cracked with fear.

“Nobody on this ship needs a nurse, boy.” The boy turned to walk away, but Pithe’s hand shot out grabbing the boy by his shoulder. “Cept maybe the pretty man next door. Tell Miss Catherine, she should speak to Boothe.”

“Aye sir.” The boy ran off.

Just as Pithe turned to move back to his journal and charts another man appeared in front of him. Pithe reeled around on the older sailor, glaring at him with fierce anger. The sailor sank back from the captain, staying more than arm’s length away.

“Captain?”

“Aye, that’s me. What do ye want?”

“Uh two things sir. Number one they’ve spotted the ship sir. She’s still followin’ us.” The sailor pulled the bandana from his head and toyed with it nervously in his hands.

Pithe breathed heavy with this news, his anger grew in him. “And the second?” He growled.

“Aye sir. Lady Anne Wellington uh respectfully requests sir, uh to speak with you about the Irishman hanging above decks, sir.” The sailor sank even further away expecting the rage.

Pithe stood straight, his chest filling. He let out a hearty yet haunting laugh and stepped toward the sailor. “She does? Does she? Lady Anne Wellington?” Pithe roared with a howling chuckle that caused the sailor’s knees to quiver. “There aint no Ladies aboard this ship! She wants to speak to me she can wait till meal. In the meantime the Irishman stays where he is!”

“Aye sir.” The sailor walked backward slowly away.

Pithe turned and entered his cabin once more. Lisbeth stirred in his bed, slowly stretching as she awoke. Pithe walked over to her, grabbing his cloak as he passed the table. Leaning over her on the bed, Pithe smoothed some hair from her face. It was the first time he had touched her face, and a strange combination of wonder, excitement with a bit of fear washed over him.

“Stay here a bit longer, lass. There’ll be some food delivered shortly.” Pithe spoke almost gently.

Lisbeth looked up at him. He could still see fear in her eyes, but a smile curled slightly on the edges of her lips. Pithe stood and walked out of the cabin, leaving the charts and journal on the table.

Pithe walked quickly out the stern of his ship. He nodded in the direction of the Irishman, giving him a slight wicked wink, and signaled for some men to cut him down. Pithe barked some orders to stow the Irishman and provide him with drink and bread.

Upon reaching the stern rail, Pithe looked through the early morning across the sea. Waves churned by the edge of the weather front tossed his pursuer’s boat about. His course correction had not yet been matched, but the smaller lighter boat had gained distance through the night.

Pithe seethed as he watched the ship. He could feel the anger of regret welling inside his soul. Standing there, the wind whipping through his cloak, tossing his hair about, Pithe could feel her looking back at him. She’s too close, now. Pithe could sense her anger. Morrigan had haunted him as an apparition of his past, and now loomed on him in plane sight.

 

[ariosto]

Dawn broke grey and windy with the Faire Wind bearing all the canvas she could...plunging her bow into the frothing violent sea.
Nicholas hugged the weather rail as much to clear his head as to watch the slow approach of the rakish ship creeping up astern.
"She's gained on us Sperles!"

The tall man standing next to him nodded and passed the small glass back into Boothe's hand.
"Indeed m'lord, I'd say she's not more than a mile away."
The violent pitching of the deck, bounced the eyepice against him painfully and made seeing anything at all a chancy thing, but Nicholas did make out an ominous black flag standing out stiff from the forepeak.

He turned to the quarterdeck where Pithe, seemingly unconcerned with the near approach of the corsair was arguing loudly with a tall stately woman passenger in front of the inert body of the Irish mutineer.

Where in heaven did she come from!

He was watching the scene with bemused fascination when suddenly another voice, a woman's voice interrupted his thoughts,
"Sir you appear a gentleman, a rare find on this ship. can I beg you to intervene and ask the Captain to allow me to attend that poor man's wounds?"

Boothe turned to face an utterly charming if somewhat windblown young woman.
"My name's Catherine," she said.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Catherine

Boothe turned to face an utterly charming if somewhat windblown young woman.
"My name's Catherine," she said.

“I’m afraid that our good Captain Pithe is law unto himself upon the high seas my dear. I suspect no one intervenes once he has set his course.” Momentarily enjoying the role of gentleman, Boothe sketches a brief bow to the young woman.

“I am Lord Nicholas Boothe, the new colonial governor. It is indeed a pleasure to meet you Catherine. I had quite given up all hope of any gentle companionship upon this vessel.”

Lowering her eyes respectfully and dipping into a graceful curtsy, Catherine, takes a moment to digest the identity of the man. She is in the company of one of Londons’ nay, Englands’, most notorious rakehells! What more had the fates in store for her? Surely she has come under a cloud of foul luck of late. She fixes a polite smile on her face as she rises.

I am indeed fortunate to meet such a Peer of the Realm, sir. I shall remember to thank our Dear Lord tonight as I say my evening prayers.

 

[SexyChele]

Lisbeth

The sound of harsh and angry voices filled her dreams and she felt her mind fuse with disappointment as the dream faded from sleep, and wakefulness overtook her. Slowly opening her eyes, Lisbeth was surprised to find she was in a bed and for a moment she forgot where she was.

Then she noticed the large figure of Captain Pithe bending over his charts. Lazily, almost forgetting the relationship she had, she stretched the sleep from her body. She noticed too late that the Captain had noticed her movements and his attention was arrested on her.

Lisbeth tried to sink into the wall as the Captain rose and walked towards her. Not knowing what to expect, but remembering the angry voices he shared just moments earlier, Lisbeth could not control the fear that krept into her eyes. As the Captain reached forth his hand, she expected a slap. Instead, she was surprised at the way he moved a wayward strand of hair from face. Confused, she avoided his gaze for a moment, then shyly looked up.

Stay here a bit longer, lass. There’ll be some food delivered shortly.

She smiled softly at his words. So seldom had she been treated kindly that his words, his touch, were indeed a surprise.

She watched as his back as he left the cabin, then took notice her stomach rebelled for lack of food. Lisbeth brought her knees up to her chest and hugged herself tightly, before she slipped from the bed. Glancing in the small mirror above a basin, Lisbeth frowned at her hair's tousled state. Running her fingers through the long locks quickly, she formed a single braid and found a bit of string to tie it. Pouring water from the pitcher into the basin, she splashed her face with the cold water until her cheeks were rosey and she felt refreshed.

Roaming around the room, she caught sight of the strange items on the table, and she peeked at them, afraid the Captain would return and catch her. Lisbeth could read - well, more like she could make out letters - but the writing in the journal surpassed her knowledge. Glancing at the charts, her interest was captured by the drawings and shapes on the parchment. She wondered what it all meant. Sitting at the table, she lifted one, and then the next, studying the shapes, hoping to understand one day what they meant.
\

 

[Queen_of_Hearts]

Like a caged animal, Anne waited, pacing in her room expecting the deliverance of the Irisman she had seen up on deck. When finally a knock sounded on her door, she rushed to open it, a retort on her lips. Instead she found a rather wizened old sailor, visibly shaken.

"Yes? What is it? Where is the man from on deck?"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but the Cap'n, he says the Irishman stays where he is, Ma'am. He says ye can wait till later, Ma'am, if you please, Ma'am."

Anne's eyes grew dark as a thunderstorm.

"What? Well, we shall see about this! Take me to the Captain - NOW!"

Grabbing her cloak, Anne followed the sailor up to the top deck. She quickly located the Captain standing on deck, and she brushed past the sailor to walk up to him herself.

"Captain? Captain! I'm Lady Anne Wellington, and I should like a word with you, Sir! That Irishman that was here, I have need of his services, and am willing to pay you handsomely for his deliverance to me."

Cold eyes turned towards her, and she backed off slightly. She reached into the pocket of her skirts and pulled a pouch of coins and tossed them at his feet.

"There. That should be adequate compensation to have him delivered to my cabin this very morning!"

Without waiting for him to respond, Anne turned and returned to her cabin to await her prize.

 

[ariosto]

"Pray remember me to the Deity will you. It's been sometime since I gave my regards to the old fellow."
He looked at her in mock seriousness for a moment then laughed uproariously.
"Dear woman you are on a ship of fiends bound to hell! Don't you know that!"

He suddenly grabbed her by both shoulders and leaned close,
"A mutiny, death in the fetid holds, and a suicide already. But at least we wont' suffer the months it takes to Botony Bay since yon Pirate shall terminate our suffering quickly."

His intensity scared her and she tried to back away...
"A handsome dame like you though, they'll keep for fun. Strip you naked and pass you from one to another. Taking you with their wicked pego's in every sweet orifice, sometimes two or even three at a time."

Color had drained from her face at his horrific words and his lips were on hers before she knew quite what to do.

 

[BigDawg69]

The lady stomped away from Pithe as his powerful arm drew back in rage. His face contorted into a growling scowl as he slowly lowered his arm. Reaching over with his left hand he pulled Mr. Wallace’s gun from its home on the First Mate’s belt. Pithe lowered his head, and set his eyes on the back of the lady as she walked back across the deck of the ship. He lifted the hand cannon in front of him taking aim on her.

Everyone on the quarterdeck froze. Even Boothe stopped and stared in rapt attention at the hulking captain. Starting with a low rumble Pithe built a powerful roar that seemed to shake the very timbers of the ship. Anne turned around to see the giant man with gun raised on her. Her mouth fell open with shock and all the color fled in fear from her face. She stood there visibly shaking before the captain. He eyed her with his steely gaze.

Slowly Pithe pulled the firing hammer back on the gun. He stood resolute, a countenance of anger washed over him. His eyes narrowed a bit. The corner of his mouth drew up slightly in a wickedly evil grin. His hand tightened around the wooden stock of the gun. With a slight adjustment of his shoulder and a squeeze of his finger the gun pounded out an ear piercing shot. A puff of white smoke lifted from the end of the barrel. The screams of two women and gasps from several men accompanied the shot.

With a thunk a sailor just to the right of Anne was propelled on to the deck. Blood splattered from the back of the man’s head across her face and dress. Her face contorted with shear terror as a shrill scream leapt from her mouth. She stood quivering on the deck, tears running down her face.

Pithe kicked the sack of coins to a near-by grouping of three sailors. “Take that and the Irishman to the Lady’s cabin.” Pithe growled. The sailors snapped to and grabbed up the purse, running off to collect the indignant and wasted prisoner.

Pithe handed the pistol back to Mr. Wallace. “Clean the rubbish from me deck, Mr. Wallace. I’m going below, for some rest. I don’t want to be disturbed for nothin’. Is that clear?” Pithe bellowed loud enough for the ship to hear.

“Aye Captain.” Mr. Wallace spoke calmly as he reloaded his weapon and tucked it safely under his belt once more.

Pithe turned and stomped past Boothe, giving a snarl in his direction, on his way back down to his own cabin and the lovely woman that awaited him there.

 

[Lady_Kit]

Catherine

The horrors of the voyage were not unexpected, but the threat of pirate attack was another matter. Catherine is shaken at the thought of capture and her face becomes ashen. Boothe, seeing her fear, pulls her close for a painful kiss.

The effect of his lips upon hers is like a slap and Catherine reacts to the threat in an unexpected way. Allowing her body to fall more fully against Boothes’ tall frame, she feels him relax, believing he has another conquest. Before he can further invade her mouth, she slips her hand into a pocket in her full skirt, and removes a small, but razor sharp dagger. Laying it flat against Boothes’ growing erection, she allows the tip to be lightly felt through his trousers. His body stiffens, and he breaks off the abuse of her mouth. Staring into the face of the surprised lord, Catherine drops all pretense of innocence.

Understand me here and now my Lord, touch me again, without my leave, and I will see to it that you are a man in name only. I am not one of your 10 guinea whores to be used and cast away. Remember that and we’ll deal well together.

Slipping the dagger back into the pocket sheath, she steps away from the furious Lord. An amused smile crosses her face as she leaves him with a final thought before returning to her cabin.

I thank you for the warning about the active pegos of yon pirate crew, but I’ve a notion that a man as comely as yourself, with that pale lovely hair, soft hands and sweet scent, might be in just as much danger. I’m told that long sea voyages make men dip their quills in any available well.

Good day, my lord. Turing her back on the red faced and sputtering noble, Catherine moves away. Eyes averted from the dead sailor being removed from the deck, she returns below decks.

 

[afternooner]

Riley

Coming to, Riley looked up seeing only a billowing skirt over white petticoats directly above his head.

Saints preserve me he muttered.

He thought he'd died and gone to heaven and this vision above him was some sort of angel of deliverance. His vision blured and he saw another just like the first. He tried to raise his hand to cross himself but fell back in exahaustion.

 

[SexyChele]

Lisbeth

The shot pierced through the air and entered the cabin like a short explosion. Lisbeth had been studying one of the strange charts on the table, having taken it in her hands for closer inspection. At the sound of the shot, she jumped and the chart slipped from her fingers. She stared at the deck above, wondering who had run afoul and been the victim of the shot, when she noticed a strange odor.

Glancing down, Lisbeth gasped as she realized the chart had fallen on a candle she had lit, and the parchment was beginning to scorch. Grabbing at it hastily, Lisbeth pulled it from the flame and used her hands to quell the smoking. She was devasted to discover that a large portion of the chart had a serious blackened mark in the center, and was about to find a hiding place for when suddenly the door of the cabin opened and the great hulking figure of the Captain stood at the threshold.

Lisbeth looked down at the chart and then back up to the Captain, fear etched into her face.

"I-I'm terrible sorry, I am, Captain! I didn't mean to do it, but the shot I heard startled me and I'm afraid I dropped it right onto the flame. I'm sure there is a way it can be fixed, Sir?"

Lisbeth was surprised to discover she was shaking as the Captain crossed the cabin and came near. Surely the very storms of the sea were carved on his face at this moment, and Lisbeth feared he would take the cost of the chart from her own skin.

 

[ariosto]

Her comeback caught Boothe by surprise but he was a man who could see the humour in many things.
He began to laugh which seemed to infuriate the Lady more and she stormed off towards the companionway. He was debating on following her when the shot rang out and he spun around in time to see Pithes target's head explode!

Silence...except for the creak of the timbers and the wind keening through the rigging.
Nicholas made a vow that he'd never go unarmed again.

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

"The man is insane Sperles!"
He and his clerk were sitting at the small table in his cabin cleaning the fine Austrian dueling pistols he'd brought along.

"I pray you m;lord keep your voice low."
Sperles nodded at the flimsy partition that seperated the Captains cabin from their own.

"I pity the poor girl in there with him now."
The fact that his own companion of the night before had drowned herself in grief and despair seemed not to have effected him a bit.

There was a knocking, quiet and rapid at the door. Sperles got up and opened it a crack.

"It's a woman m'lord...a Lady."

 

[BigDawg69]

Pithe bound into the room and bared the full brunt of his angry stare down on the poor girl hunched at his table. He reached forward a jerked the chart from her trembling hands and held it to the light streaming in through the windows. The scorch mark effectively darkened the center of his chart. Growling he crumpled it and tossed it to the floor.

Pithe reached over with a powerful arm and yanked Lisbeth to her feet. She cowered in his stern grip; tears began to roll down her cheek. She looked away from his stern face in fear. Pithe shoved toward the bed hard, causing her to trip and fall to the floor. She quickly moved her long lean legs up underneath of her.

Pithe bent down over her, getting his face very near to hers. She choked on her shortened breath as she tried to hold back her crying. Pithe ran his fingers through her hair grabbing a handful and jerking her head back hard. She screamed slightly.

Pithe looked down at her. Lisbeth’s mouth hung open slightly as he pulled her head back. She continued to choke as she cried in fear. Holding her hair, Pithe forced her to stand. He ripped her clothing from her skin and held her there naked in front of him. Lisbeth’s shakes became trembles as he held her dress over the flame and caught it on fire. He allowed it to catch into a large single flame before stamping out on the ground.

Tossing her by the back of her head to the bed, Pithe stepped back to his chart and rolled it up. He placed it back on the rack and looked over at Lisbeth. She curled her naked form on the bed and sobbed as she peered over her shoulder at him.

Pithe stood and removed his coat. He walked over next to her and stood looking down at her.

“As you will be loyal to me, I will prevent any further harm to you.” Pithe grumbled through his pursed lips.

Lisbeth stopped her sobbing and looked a Pithe. Her face seemed to lighten as she took in what amazingly appeared to be genuine kindness in his eyes. Could the notorious cold blooded monster have a caring soul? Could that soul care for someone like Lisbeth?

Pithe reached forward and brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead. His long powerful fingers coarse with years at sea gently stroked across her delicate skin. He leaned forward and laid a kiss on her porcelain forehead. His salt sea battered lips pressing slightly into her. He stood back up, tall looking down on her.

“That is my promise to you.” Pithe said softly.

 

[SexyChele]

Lisbeth

She laid sobbing, trying to control her tears, as she watched the Captain roll the chart and put it away. Suddenly naked, curled into a ball in an effort to minimize the effect, Lisbeth gave up all hope of being treated kindly.

His words cut through to her brain like a knife. Could he mean what he said? Could he show kindness to her.

She jumped slightly when his hand reached out and pulled away a strand of her hair. As his lips touched her forehead, her heart began to beat even harder. As he stood above her, she looked up at him, and suddenly she felt safe. She felt as though she could trust this man.

Slowly, conscious of her naked form, Lisbeth turned on the bed and sat up. She drew her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them as a way of protecting her nakedness. She quickly wiped at the remaining tears in her eyes, and slowly raised her eyes to the Captain.

"I shall be loyal to you, Sir. On that, I can give you my word."

She watched as his eyes raked over her form, and she suddenly felt a flush extending along her entired body.

 

[BigDawg69]

Pithe looked down on Lisbeth his eyes took their time to observe the soft white of her porcelain skin. HI lifted one finger to brush it along the outside of her leg. Slowly he drew his rough sea worn finger along the silky soft skin of her thigh. His eyes followed the trek of his finger intently. Upon reaching her hip he opened his palm and rubbed every so gently the wonderful curve from her hip into her waist.

Lisbeth shuttered slightly at his touch. She watched him, clutching her thighs to her chest. As his hand slowly moved up and transferred his surprisingly gentle touch to her arm so to did his eyes. He drew his eyes with his hand to her shoulder and cupped her slender neck in his powerful hands.

She looked up at his eyes and he returned her stare. A moment passed between them, and Lisbeth felt herself relax. Pithe leaned in close to her, his lips brushing across hers. The touch so slight it could barely be described as a kiss. The contact of her supple lips against his, made Pithe loosen the grip on his angry heart. As they shared a breath he could feel his soul lighten, as she could feel her fear lift.

Her breath was sweet in his mouth, he longed for more. Their lips grew together and melted into a long sinewy kiss. Lisbeth released her legs, and wrapped her lithe arms around Pithe’s broad shoulders. Her legs stretched out allowing him to lower himself closer to her.

It was an amazing kiss. One that melted her fear, and erased his anger. A kiss that changed the course of their passage through life.