The Pirate's Witch (2 page)

The other crewmembers were housed below deck where the stench was unbearable from filthy bilge water and rotting food.
 
Deegan had converted a small part of the hold into six cabins for his men to take turns with.
 
When not allowed this relatively luxury, the others slept in the dank, fetid recesses of the remainder of the cramped hold, or on deck if the weather allowed.
 
Deegan’s own quarters under the helm afforded a cross draft through the side portholes to air it out.

Clarette was now shrieking and frantically trying to break free from the strong man.
 
He opened the heavy door to the cabin and tossed her inside.
 
She turned immediately, and tried to break past him to get back on deck… back to her friends… but she stopped abruptly when Deegan’s hand smashed across her cheek.
 
Clarette froze, and she stared up into his fierce eyes in wonder.
 
No one had ever struck her before.

Deegan closed the door and leaned back against it, folding his arms across his chest and giving the girl a quizzical look.
 
Clarette came to her senses, realized she could not force her way out of the only available exit, and searched wildly around the small room for a weapon.
 
A pocket dagger was lying on the desk where Deegan had tossed it after deciding to leave it behind for the battle, feeling it would be unnecessary.
 
He saw her eyes dilate when she caught the reflection off the dirk’s surface of a sunbeam through the porthole.

Clarette dived for the weapon, grasped it, and brandished it with all the bravery she could muster.
 
She was terrified and it shook while she waved it at him with her trembling hand.
 
The pirate remained propped against the closed door, impressed by the young girl’s fortitude.
 
She was a worthy prize.
 
In a swift move, he advanced on her in two long strides and twisted her wrist, catching the dagger before it dropped to the floor.
 
“Thank you for retrieving my little knife, Clarette,” he said ominously.

He spun her around and held her tight against his chest with one arm while the hand with the knife reached towards her throat.
 
He slipped the blade under the neckline of her gown, and Clarette heard the material tear to the sharp edge.
 
When she began to once again fight him, Deegan reached his hand to her neck, lifting her slightly so she was forced to rise to her toes and occupy her shaking hands in trying to remove his choking hold.
 
With her thus distracted, Deegan resumed unwrapping his treasure.
 
When the dress was sliced through to the waistband so that only her thin chemise covered her panting breasts, he pocketed the knife and pulled the garment off her raised arms.

Clarette was still fighting for air as she felt a coarse hand cup her breast, and she wailed, “Please… I have a fiancé waiting for me in France.”

“I’m afraid that France is not our destination, Clarette,” he chuckled.

Clarette knew that she would be taken to the lawless pirate stronghold of Tortuga, barely five miles from the northwest coast of Haiti.
 
The island had changed alliances between the Spanish, French and English with an occasional outburst from the Dutch, and although most of the buccaneers who had been working for the government had been ordered disbanded decades ago.
 
With no promise of work, they had turned from their once legal trade of plundering from the Spanish galleons to private enterprise.
 
With legends and stories of heroics and riches at sea, there were still those like Deegan who yearned for the Golden Age of Piracy.

Deegan planned on spending three more days at sea before turning and following the course of the Windward Passage, which ran between Haiti and Cuba, and returning to their stronghold.
 
Now, with such unexpected bounty, he had to consider whether there might be a second ship following in support.

The flesh in his hand was soft and full, and the violent man decided the few extra days at sea could prove to be enjoyable.
 
He released the girl’s breast, and in one move he ripped her chemise to the waist where it hesitated a brief moment before sliding over her hips to the floor.
 
Clarette’s hands abandoned his grip on her throat and she tried to cover her breasts and her sex while she stood in only her stockings and her shoes.

The pirate finally released her to stand back and take in the figure of his treasure.
 
Even in such woeful disarray, she was quite certainly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
 
When his hands moved to his buttons to begin disrobing, Clarette charged him, not giving thought to the repercussions of exiting onto the deck of a pirate vessel in her present state of undress.

Deegan stood to his full six foot three height and once again threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her at arm’s length.
 
He was growing tired of her struggles, and he scowled at her and pushed her onto the bed.
 
Clarette tried to scramble to the corner and Deegan grabbed her ankle.
 
She kicked him in the chest with one booted foot and shrieked when his strong hand smacked down on her bottom, leaving a red stinging print on both cheeks of her ass.

Deegan resumed undressing, and every time the girl moved he grabbed her ankle to pull her back and administer another hardy slap on her fleshy globes.
 
Clarette wailed in agony and finally lay still, shuddering and squeezing her eyes tightly closed while envisioning herself on her tropical beach with the unknown man she was to marry… a man, she realized, who bore a striking resemblance to the pirate captain tormenting her.

If it were not for his disagreeable vicious nature, Deegan was a fine figure of a man, with not a spare inch wasted on anything but lean, bronze muscle.
 
His penetrating dark eyes were almost black with intensity, and the Caribbean tan set off his white teeth which shown briefly between his mustache and beard when he leered at her.
 
His black hair was wavy and hung well past his shoulders, and as they had only been a full day at sea, other than the masculine sweat from the recent battle, he was clean.
 
With fresh water at a premium on ships, pirates had the reputation of being covered in grime and vermin.

Clarette continued to whimper into the coverlet, and she pulled her foot away as the naked pirate reached to remove her boot.
 
Deegan smiled when he saw her rosy ass clench tightly in preparation for the sting of his hand.
 
He did not disappoint her, and after the blow he brushed his fingers across her flesh, enjoying the heat.
 
She slumped, defeated, while he removed her other shoe and her stockings.

He stretched out on top of her and Clarette felt the soft curls of his chest hair on her shoulder blades.
 
He whispered in her ear, “You have been quite disobedient, Clarette, but do you really feel our first intimate moment should have me enjoying the tight virgin depths of your tempting bottom?”
 
He felt her stiffen beneath him.

Deegan’s sadistic tortures went far beyond mere physical punishment.
 
The sense of power he felt when his prey chose ther own torment was a true aphrodisiac for him, and it heightened his pleasure immensely.
 
Toying with the little French girl with her petulant, pouty, full lips and incredible watery eyes had his cock throbbing to bursting proportions.
 
His hand pushed between their bodies and his finger traveled down the crevice of her bottom, pressing at her constricted puckered star.
 
“I feel generous, petite sorcière de la mer.
 
You are just that… a little witch of the sea.
 
Which will it be, Clarette?
 
I am already in position, and my restraint is waning.”

Clarette stuttered, “Please, Captain.
 
Please don’t hurt me.”
 
She sobbed when she felt his stiff rod jerk against her bottom in erotic response to her despair.
 
Her options were limited, as Clarette knew that the Captain would no doubt eventually do this evil thing to her, and she weighed her chances of getting away.
 
If he sodomized her, and she were rescued, she could still arrive in France to her fiancé intact.
 
The chances were dismally remote that would be the case, so to save herself what was sure to be insurmountable pain, Clarette began to turn over.

Deegan was pleased.
 
With the disparity of their physical sizes, it would have been a dangerous battle if he took her, the first time at least, with no cooperation.
 
He straightened his arms and hovered over her with his long hair almost brushing her breasts.
 
She stared at the dark curls across his chest as she felt his impossible size breach her entrance.

Her hands clenched into tight fists as the pain added to her fear, and then she involuntarily gripped his shoulders, digging deep with her nails.
 
The pirate watched as she closed her eyes and her bottom lip trembled.
 
Her dusky nipples tightened, and his fingers pinched and pulled them to an even firmer state as he thrust within her tight, moist passage.
 
His body craved release, and he was so aroused in his own passion that it was a moment before he noticed the girl had stopped crying.
 
He registered the sensation of her walls gripping his cock with pulsing contractions that were an unexpected precursor to her own climax.

Little gasps escaped her parted lips as her channel convulsed around him, milking him so completely that Deegan felt as though his very soul had been emptied.
 
An uneasy, unaccustomed sensation flowed through him, and he quickly deserted her pussy and sat up.
 
The pirate did not like this unbalanced feeling, and he silently blamed the French girl for perhaps being the very witch he had accused her of.

He rose to the desk and removed some coarse hemp twine, bringing it back to where the girl whimpered in confusion at her body’s responses to the vile act.
 
Deegan pulled her up and tied her wrists behind her, and then he secured her elbows so they were almost touching.
 
Clarette was wracked with sobbing cries when the pirate continued with the rope, wrapping it first under and then around each of her breasts, so they swelled out from her frame obscenely.
 
He pushed her back onto her stomach and tied her ankles together, and then bent them up so her heels rested on her bottom from where he fastened them to her wrists.
 
Leaving her painfully trussed, he dressed and left the cabin without saying a word.

Clarette cried herself to sleep, lying on her side with her breasts becoming agonizingly pained until they dulled to a numb throb.
 
When she opened her eyes it was morning, and she found Deegan stretched out beside her, softly snoring and fully clothed.
 
His eyes quickly opened as if he had felt her stare.

Deegan sat up and reached into the side drawer of his desk.
 
When he turned, he was holding an unusual stiff leather ring with two long, knotted strips trailing from the bottom of it.
 
Attempting to move back from the curious device, Clarette gasped at the pain of her now purpled breasts.
 
The pirate traced her full lips with his finger and said, “Perhaps it is only your cunt that bewitches me.”

Clarette’s eyes bulged with terror as Deegan held her jaw and forced the ring behind her teeth.
 
She shook her head and wailed through the opening, and on her first swallow the strips traveled down her throat causing her empty stomach to heave and retch.
 
The man’s eyes were frighteningly alive with desire as he removed his already stretched rod from his pants, gripped the sides of her face and plunged deep into her throat.

Clarette gagged and gulped air on his retreat, wailing her displeasure at his abuse.
 
She felt him become impossibly thicker, completely blocking her air passage, and the large sack occasionally slapping against her chin became firm.
 
Just as the first salty, liquid deposit hit her throat, Deegan used the dirk to cut the hemp binding her breasts, and she shrieked arousing vibrations as he finished his eruption.

Deegan was unfamiliar with the emotions this little French girl stirred to the surface from some place deep within his black heart, and he obsessed with the thought of keeping her as his slave consort.
 
How the pirates on Tortuga would seethe with envy at his petite sorcière de la mer with her Caribbean eyes.
 
Deegan sealed his withering cock behind his breeches and untied his new woman.
 
The possessive yearning was disconcerting to him, but his need to own every part of his treasure conflicted with his usual steadfast nature.