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CAPTAIN'S MATE PART 1
"You are the Devil's spawn! I'll see you drawn and quartered,
and swinging from the highest yard arm!" "You are a spoiled brat
with a very nasty mouth!" "How dare you? You--you dastardly demon?
That is no way to address a lady!" "How dare you, you bloodthirsty
little wench? Yes, wench! I see no lady here." "God's blood, you
mangy excuse for a man! I'll see you hauled off in irons for this!
I'll--I'll--well, you wait and see what I won't do, you! Ruffian!"
"You are in no position to be issuing threats, little witch,
I've had just about enough of your mayhem. And you better learn
to keep a civil tongue in your head, or you'll get a taste of
something you won't like." He stroked the wide leather belt around
his trim waist quite deliberately. "Something you should have
tasted--often--a long time ago!" "You wouldn't dare! Oh, I hate
you! Let me off this old hunk of driftwood right now, or I'll
scream!" "Go ahead, lass. No one will pay any attention to a shrill,
screeching parrot!" He turned his back to her and automatically
checked the horizon for any signs of weather in the distance.
Driftwood? Of all the insults she heaped on him, that hurt. His
ship was his pride and joy, his reason for living, and for him--and
for many others--his fortune. Driftwood? That ignorant, uppity
miss needed a good... He whirled back to the wench in question.
Alexandra Veronica Hope, nineteen years old, a petite sandy-blond
imp, (blessed with enticing, full, womanly curves never to be
mistaken for a child), strutted angrily across the quartermaster
deck aboard the sea-worthy ship, 'Raven's Blood.' They were departing
from Portsmouth harbor with as much speed as could be mustered,
and as promised, young Mistress Hope opened up with a bone-chilling
scream. The grinning seamen watched Rory 'the Rogue' Thunder bolt
into action. He caught up the shrieking minx and clapped his hand
over her open mouth, but feisty Alexandra bit down hard on the
intrusion. Their young Captain jumped back with a yelp. "Why,
you little..!" He examined his injured hand. "At least you didn't
draw blood, Miss Hope," he shook his hand painfully. Alex grunted
and pulled her thick hair back over her shoulder. "Not yet, Captain
Thunder, not yet!" Her sapphire eyes gleamed brightly at the thought,
then the sassy chit shook her fine tail feathers, and led the
Captain in a fearsome chase across decks.
"Don't just stand there gawking, gents! Shake a leg, and get
us out of port fast before that little shrew lands us all in the
brig!" Captain Thunder bellowed. As he raced after the slippery
maid, Rory regretted the whole mess. Damn, this enterprise was
not turning out to be the simple, no-nonsense one he and Angus
had planned. S'blood, the girl was fast! She was hieing up and
down the ship like it was a playground! Alexandra Hope hiked up
her skirts, revealing trim little ankles, well-turned, rounded
calves, and a plump backside jiggling deliciously under her clothes,
navigated the ship as good as a lad. A tomboy, that's a surprise,
Rory smirked to himself, as he endeavored to cut off the chase.
After all, it was his ship, he should be able to catch one naughty
girl, shouldn't he? But from his crew's reaction, it was looking
more and more like the joke was on him! "How did I ever get into
this?" as he pushed his weary body after his spirited prey.
A sinfully rich young heiress had fallen right into their laps.
Not quite by accident--but certainly with a big push from Providence!
'Raven's Blood' had docked quietly in Portsmouth harbor, the Captain
and crew cooling their heels from a close call on the high seas
with an English frigate. Too close a call, too many chances taken,
Rory remonstrated with himself. The British ship was manned to
the limit--and gunned to the teeth. 'Raven's Blood' had narrowly
escaped being boarded, and her crew impressed back into her Majesty's
navy. Many of his men having escaped her clutches once, Rory would
fight to the death before any of his crew were taken. Too impulsive
and ill-prepared for this fight, they had scuttled that prize,
and opted for safe harbor. Until the next likely pigeon came along.
Captain Rory "the Rogue" Thunder, along with Angus, his most trusted
friend, (and surrogate father since Rory was orphaned as a lad,"
had agreed wholeheartedly that Alexandra Veronica Hope was the
likely pigeon they'd been searching for!
The Rogue felt foolish being led over, under, and around his
ship like a schoolboy playing tag. And losing! Miss Hope dodged
his advances, magically climbing out of harm's way when he trapped
her in what he thought was an inescapable corner. But the little
wench slipped past him at every turn. The crew were now chortling
and guffawing out loud, but no one lifting a finger to help in
the chase. They knew better than to intrude on the Rogue's fun,
although the Cap'n sure didn't look like he was having any! Rory
chased the panting, petite pearl around the main mast-and abruptly
circled back the other way. Alexandra was getting winded and didn't
think fast enough. "OOOHHHHH!" They clashed one into the other,
sparks flying off the two angry foes. Rory had the presence of
mind to reach out for her, but Alexandra grabbed a damp mop used
to swab the wooden deck. WHAPP! WHAPP! WHAPP! The Rogue was all
washed up. The crew's whooping laughter spurred the humiliated
captain once more unto the breach. "Dash it all, wench, that takes
it! I promised you a taste of my belt, and by God, you shall have
it!" Alexandra saw murder in the Rogue's eyes and dropped the
mop. As she warily backed away from her captor, he pounced like
a mountain lion. Rory caught the girl squarely this time, her
energy flagging as his renewed. Mistress Hope felt her arms jerked
roughly behind her, as she was marched to the center of the deck,
and bent face down over a large wooden water barrel. Her long
skirts landed in a heap high on her back; a cool, sea breeze wafted
over Alex's exposed, frilly underwear. "Rogue Thunder, don't you
dare! Put my clothes down!" "Watch what you ask for, Mistress
Hope, or I'll not only pull your clothes down, but off as well!
That's the real way to punish a naughty girl, but for now, I'll
make due with your pretty drawers draped over this barrel for
all my men to see, and to enjoy your whipping!" Her face stung
with shame, Alexandra kicked and stomped her little feet on the
deck, but Rory held the wiggling girl fast to the barrel. With
one practiced move, he unclasped his leather belt with a flourish,
enjoying immensely the expression of incredulity that passed over
her beautiful features. "You wouldn't! You really wouldn't?!!!"
THWUNK! The belt found its delectable mark. "AIIIIIYYYYEEEE!"
"I WOULD!!!" the Rogue roared. THWUNK! And the pirate captain
laid leather full-on that plump, jiggling, deserving bum! THWUNK!
The crew's laughter grew raucous, for the little, spoiled heiress
began cursing and flailing about like a drunken sailor. Admiration
for the Cap'n swept over the ship. Rory regained command of the
situation--like he always did--and was putting that troublesome
wench in her rightful place. A good smack of the hand, or in this
case, a little taste of leather on a lady's backside, sometimes
turned a pulsing pool of piranha into tamed little goldfish! To
a man, they envied their Cap'n's skill on the rounded bum he punished.
Laughter soon died to silence as the belt soundly thrashed the
fulsome, feminine curves. "Get the lead out, me heartys! The Cap'n
has everything well in hand. Now, unless you'll be wantin' to
feel my taste o' the leather, boyos, you'll be manning your posts,
quick-like. Do you take me meaning?" Angus smiled broadly, but
shook out his cat o' nine tails to catch the sea air. The crew
wisely returned to their assigned tasks. THWUNK! "Mistress Hope,
you will count your remaining strokes. Starting now, you vixen!"
THWUNK! "YEOWWW! NO! I WON'T COUNT!" THWUNK! "OHHH! Yes! One!"
THWUNK! "OWWW! TWO!" Alex's voice became subdued as the lash count
grew.
All in all, Rory marveled at how well the rich little chit was
taking her whipping. Her bottom was made for spanking, and he
wished mightily that his hand was making contact with that cherubic
bum thrust up so saucily for his belt. She was a bundle of surprises
this girl, her body notwithstanding. Her bottom danced like a
harem girl's hips, and her whole body alternately tensed and relaxed
under his strap. She was perspiring; she was hot and tingling
all over. Rory recognized the signs: he'd spanked and whipped
other women before. Perhaps, not quite so refreshingly.
But no matter how sensual he thought her, Alexandra Veronica
Hope needed her bottom tended to. ...And Captain Rory Thunder
had every intention of finishing the job!
THE END |