0 comments/ 25466 views/ 2 favorites Gwen to Sea By: Frogsoup "Would you like to talk about the pirates today, Gwen?" My grin disappeared. I had told Dr. Annon that I did not want to talk about them today, tomorrow or ever for so long as the universe may turn. "I think we'll have to talk about them sometime," he'd said, that little half smile playing on his sexy little lips. "You've been coming for two years." I'd told him I disagreed vehemently enough to shove a coat rack up his ass next time he asked. "Gwen?" "Oh, sorry...for a moment I thought you said you wanted a coat rack up your ass." The truth. " You didn't really say that, did you?" Dr Annon got that thoughtful look and then looked deep into my eyes. "I said I think you should talk about that. I think that's what's doing it." He'd confused me there. "Doing it?" "Your frigidity?" I was furious. "I told you I'm not frigid, I just..." "Can't get close to anyone, can't stand to perform oral sex, can't masturbate to orgasm--" "That doesn't mean I'm frigid, I mean, I still like sex--" "You have sex because it's expected of you. That doesn't count." He gave me a little smile then, and my heart melted again. And then I realized that I still wouldn't fuck him if I had a choice, and knew he was right. It wasn't that I didn't like sex, it was that I didn't care about it. At all. "You are never ever passionate about sex, Gwen. You said so yourself." "That doesn't mean I'm going to pour my heart out about some buried part of my past..." I realized that was a stupid thing to say to your psychiatrist. " About that, I mean." "Who are you going to tell, if not me? Do you hope it will go away if you don't look at it, like monsters in your bedroom?" "Yes. That's what I want. I hope it does." "But it's not," he told me, and gave me that heartrending caring look. "It's shut down your sex life and your social life. What will be left when it's done?" I was getting desperate, I so did not want to talk about this now, or ever. But he was insistent and I couldn't say no to him much longer. "I don't—some things you just--" "They raped you, didn't they?" I panicked. "You leave me alone!" "Okay," he said right then. He sat down in his big chair and looked at me. I sat down on the couch and he just looked. So I looked back, and we looked and it became like a fight. I knew he had to look away or say something, I wouldn't be the one to drop my eyes, so help me God, and my jaw dropped open and out it spilled. Gwen was a virgin. She was old enough to be living a life with sex in mind but not in body, and too young not to be terrified that she wasn't 'normal' because of it. Old enough to know pirates were real, but too young to really believe in them. On board the Bellemae, her parents had said, it will be fun and leisure and plenty of time to read and think, and grandma telling her (she never asked) that she must "come with us across the sea to Portugal for our fourth honeymoon and we'll show you the new place...Have Jack take us over in the Bellemae." But Gwen had found it a nightmare. Her first day at sea she was sick over the side most of the time. On the second day a deckhand she had come to know as Jacques, a dark man with an accent of indistinct origin, produced a hand-rolled cigarette that smelled faintly of skunk. "Take this, little now, little later." "I don't smoke," she'd told him. "Dat why you still sick," he'd answered, and gone on to explain how they were in international waters and no-one else was sick because they were all stoned et cetera. She know it was a line of crap but by then she was bored to tears and it was something to do. Now, on day 8, she was smoking pot with Jacques most of every day and she liked him a lot, but she could feel tension starting and knew their friendship was almost over, that when she said "I'm celibate" was when he said "I'm gone". "Hey woman," he called, head sticking up from below decks. "We done!" He grinned. "Cmon my bunk." She went after him without hesitation; he had a killer CD collection, and he was a dope fiend. He kept her amused with sleight of hand tricks and knew how to blow a tune on a comb and waxed paper. He was interesting, and after 8 days at sea, interesting is good. She walked into his cabin and sat next to him on his bunk. "It's boring now, at sea," he told her with an air of pathos. "always get boring now. 8, 9 day." Gwen nodded. "What do you do to keep from getting bored?" "Well," Jacques replied, eye widening, "we WRESTLE!" And with that he grasped her around the waist and dumped her on her head. She fought her way up, fists clenched. "You die!" She screamed with laughter and threw herself at him. He caught her and skillfully pinned her beneath him on the bed. Gwen giggled as she caught her breath. "We don't always wrestle," Jacques told her, and bent to kiss her. "Hey, whoa, there's something you gotta know..." She twisted her head to keep their lips apart. He pulled back a little, but kept her pinned. "What?" "I'm celibate," she replied knowing the type of response this usually elicited. However, instead of the normal distancing from the mating scene, as it were, Jacques pressed his body against hers. "What, are you a nun?" "No." "You mean you don't fuck? You sick dick doe, no?" "'Fraid not." "Hand job?" "Nope" "Facial?" He grinned. Gwen didn't believe him. "Okay, I'll bite. What's a facial?" By way of response, Jacques dropped his pants and yanked her arms up to pin her wrists while a large, erect cock came into view. Gwen almost shrieked. "Oh my God Jacques, what the fuck are you doing!" Gwen struggled to get free from beneath him, but she was pinned, his cock right in front of her face. Her eyes widened as he began to stroke it gently. "Jacques, please stop," she told him, but her voice was devoid of conviction. He continued, and despite her embarrassment and humiliation, she felt a slight frisson beneath her skirt; she became aware of the sensation of her underwear pressing against her vulva a quickening of the breath from more than the exertions of wrestling to get free. "No girl," he answered her. "You asked, now I show you." His hand continued its slow stroke. "I show you..." He brought his penis close to her lips; she bit at him, snarling, more for show than out of a willingness to hurt him,. He tightened his hold upon her and drew deep breaths, and stroked himself with relish. Gwen knew she should scream but she couldn't. Jacques' long dick horrified and fascinated her; she found herself squeezing her thighs together a hard as she could while the man atop her—and he was a man, oh yes, no child he—began to make sounds that she had never heard before, but which made her pussy hotter and wetter than she had ever known. She felt the tension in his legs first, and then the break in the rhythm of breathing, and then Jacques began to swell to a girth that frightened her...he pointed it at her, and she saw its eye, a drop of white weeping from it, and then Jacques grunted and the warm torrent hit her, it was come, his come, and it was on her cheek, and then it was on her lips too, and then on her chin, and she felt used, she was used, and made low, less than dirt—and she licked his spend from her lips. That sent her over; she clenched her teeth and held her breath and noiselessly, motionlessly succumbed to her very first orgasm. She felt tingles through her whole body and a divine clenching deep inside her; she felt wetness running down her legs and she felt burning shame—and somehow, that made it even better. She was astounded at his ferocity as he hurled himself off her. "You like dat, don't you?" She only looked involuntarily at his crotch. "Well ged on out heah, you had enough." Hurt and humiliated, she ran back to her bunk and sobbed and dreamed. "Did you see Jacques on board afterward?" I felt weak, and the room sort of spun. "Ya..I did see him. You have to see each other, you're on board a ship." "Was he ashamed at what he'd done?" I had to smile at that. "Well, you'd think I would have gone away, every time I saw him, you know? But I didn't. I hung around him closer than ever. It started really creeping him out, and he started staying away from me. So yes, I'd say he was ashamed." "Did you ever have sex with him?" "No. I was cherry." I felt like I was about to cry. "What happened after he ejaculated onto your face?" "I told you, I saw him around--" "No, I mean right after. Did he let you right up?" I thought. This was the worst time in my life, but it had like a nostalgia all the same. "No. He wiped his prick on my cheek first." "What did you do when he let you up?" "I went back to my cabin on the other side of the ship." "What did you do there?" And I can't stop it, I can't keep it a secret for another second. "I TOUCHED MYSELF." And I'm crying before I even know it. "I touched myself and I liked it..I didn't have the guts to go all the way but I still had my first orgasm on the Bellemae." "Why are you crying?" "Because I felt soiled...because it's been so long I'd forgotten." "You touched yourself. Why?" And I know I can't answer his question. I 'd take the worst possibly way out of it if I had to. So I did. I kept talking. The tenth day brought more sun and no wind. The Bellemae, now very low on fuel, lay becalmed for want of wind. Squalls on the horizon promised wind but none came. Jacques and Gwen circled each other on the deck to maintain the greatest possible distance between them. Rumors began to circulate that it was a lover's quarrel, that she was yet another of Jacques' long line of conquests. Hours ground by with nothing to do; she played chess with the captain but didn't understand the way the pieces moved and so he let her win. Around three in the afternoon—she wasn't sure how many time zones they'd crossed—the watchman's call rang out across the deck: "Ship to starboard, she's hailed us!" The captain, a stoic man who seemed to have no personality whatsoever, stood up and looked out a porthole, scanning the waterline, and then stopped. He whistled. "And?" "They say they're out of water and six days out, they ask if we've any to spare." The captain considered this carefully. Gwen realized he didn't have much to weigh; if he didn't give those people water, they'd probably die. There was nothing around them but water for days. As if he'd heard her speaking in his head, he nodded. "Tell them they can come aside us." "Why did you take so long to answer?" Gwen demanded of him when the watchman had left. "You can't let those people die. What were you thainking about?" "I was thinking," he returned, "that we do not have a great deal of water to spare. Enough to give a vessel that size only 2 days more, if she's fully crewed. I was thinking that I have no weapons if they decide to take all of it by force, and leave us thirsty. Or if they didn't need water at all." "You mean like pirates?" she asked, a flutter of excitement within her. "Exactly like pirates," he replied. "Now, I see you getting the romantic picture of pirates in your head, but they're real, and they're very very bad. They will steal everything you have, but they will kill you first. And they might have...uses for you before they do you in, because you can't tell on them when you're dead, and you can't stop them until you are." His somewhat vacant gaze fell upon her. "I hope you never meet any, and trying to make sure you don't is the reason I took so long." Gwen felt a small amount of fear and a large amount of excitement. For the first time that day, she stopped thinking about Jacques' cock exploding onto her, and the salty taste of him on her lips, as he held her, held her so tight she couldn't move-- "How can they survive out at sea? how can they do those things?" "Those have the same answer: They are evil men who steal whatever they need from everybody they meet. Not even all men—the worst of the pirates have been women. They often became captains themselves, you know; captains of pirate ships." Now Gwen was excited, and a little aroused, as well. "You mean I could be a pirate captain?" The captain's expression hardened. "If you were lucky, you would be shot down as soon as you tried. If you were unlucky, you would be passed around like a whore and then chucked overboard." He glared at her. "So put your notions aside. Pirates are veil, and wrong--" "Pirates to starboard!" The watchman's message was a scream this time. The captain looked out the porthole again, and what little animation his face possessed drained away. "Oh fuck me, please God no.." He ran from the cabin onto the deck and immediately staggered backward. Gwen felt a wet mist on her face and arms and the captain fell back with a two-centimeter hole right in the center of his forehead. "Well, I freaked," I said, and ran down. I couldn't go on. The pictures were all there, the pictures I'd run from, took drugs to get away from, but I couldn't say it, I needed to say it but I couldn't. "That's understandable," Dr Annon said and he was so sympathetic he made me want to cuddle him. "You'd just seen a friend killed right in front of you. That's quite a trauma." "Well, I wouldn't call him a friend, he was just the captain. But I got his blood all over me. I was trying to wipe it off, with the blanket from his bunk, and that's what I was doing when I heard a shot and my mom screaming and I just, I went to pieces, I just ran out that door and tripped over my feet. I hit the floor and heard bullets whirring—no shit, they actually whirred—and then I heard gunshots. Is that weird?" He nodded and motioned me to continue. He was so hot.. "I got up, and looked around the deck, and I saw two men throw my father over the rail. They way he flapped around, I knew he was dead." My whole body ached from the memory; I hadn't really thought much about him...oh God, goodbye, daddy—and I was bawling. Dr Annon gave me a tissue and I blew my nose. "Where was your mother?" "S...she...was in a a group off to the side, three or four of them were standing around Mom and one of them was pointing a gun at her. She was on her knees, and she was bowing to him...over and over. Another one had an hourglass. As I watched, the sand ran out in the hourglass, and the gun went off. She fell, and then I could see the pirate's dick and I realized she'd been sucking his dick, racing the clock and she lost." I couldn't see because of the tears, and Dr Annon was sitting beside me, and his arm was around me. "Tell me what happened," he said in that soft soft voice. I melted again. "Well...I was on the deck and one of the guys with the guns, that almost just shot me—he grabbed me and walked to the rail with me right under his arm, and I started to panic, I thought he was going to throw me overboard like he had my daddy, like the captain had talked about when we played chess that day. But when we got to the rail, I realized there was another ship alongside us, and he threw me onto the other boat and another guy caught me, he..." I stop, and just breathe for a few seconds. "What happened?" "He manacled me, looped the chain over a way-high hook on the mast, and I looked way up and saw their colors, if you can call them that, a white noose on a field of black. And while I was looking up there someone came right in and grabbed my tits, and I couldn't put my arms down 'cause they were chained over my head, but I tried anyway, like I had to. And those manacles hurt my wrists a lot and so I had to relax again, and as soon as I did they got grabbed again. I tried to kick but those damn iron bracelets tore at me, and then the pirates picked me up and their fingers were everywhere, God just everywhere." I rolled my eyes in pleasure of the memory. "Not too much, you know, just enough, kinda fucking me with their fingers, you know?" He nodded and I saw him gulp, but he stayed close. Oh doctor, if only I wanted to fuck... "You enjoyed it?" "I screamed and bit and twisted and thrashed like crazy. And I loved it. It was like being tickled all over with my own clit." Gwen shook the chains that bound her to the hook in the mast, and cried out again, knowing that all hope of salvation or succor was likely dead but needing to call for someone. The pirates laughed and mocked her. She saw through widening eyes that some of them had exposed their dicks and were stroking them. She remembered Jacques with a quick twinge of excitement somewhere just north of her pussy, followed by a heartsick sob as she realized he was dead along with the rest of Bellemae's crew. The pirates' hands became repulsive to her and her screams and thrashing redoubled. "Hold, men," came a voice with authority. The pirates set her down and parted like grass before the wind. The man now looking at her was obviously the captain, by his presence. His face was shadowed by the light of the cabin behind him, but Gwen could see he wore a long brown coat and a large foppish hat with a plume. As he approached, she could see his face, a little at a time: first cheekbones, and a scar along the right one; then his nose, not long but too aquiline to be called pretty; then his chin and jaw, aristocratically chiseled. His eyes were too slitted for her to see their color. The overall impression of his face, clothing, and manner was of a rake: handsome in an unconventional way, a lover of women but too merciless to ever truly love anyone, and prone to expensive habits. He strode up to her and grasped her chin, pulling her head so she had no choice but to face him. "Who are you?" "Gwen Phillips," she replied. She shook the chains that looped around the hook in the mast and cut her wrists again. "Let me down," she told him. The captain moved very close to her and his slap was sudden and stung the side of her face. The pirates gathered around her 'oohed' and laughed viciously. "I asked you your name, not your desires," he told her softly. "What are you prepared to do to get down from there, Gwen Phillips?" She only stared at him. He pressed himself against her and she felt him between her legs and rubbing against her. Gwen kicked at him, felt a knee connect almost solidly between his legs, but he did not fall; the crew hushed immediately and the heard whispers in the silence before the captain roared: "The wench plays with her feet!" and the heel of one leather moccasin slammed into her cheekbone. Her eye immediately watered and the side of her face felt heavy and hot. She sagged against the chains and two pairs of hands grasped her ankles, pulled them behind her, to each side of the mast. Her weight was completely supported by her wrists in the cutting manacles and the pirates holding her legs . He pressed against her again and, with her legs pulled behind her as they were, she couldn't avoid his hand rubbing her, terrifying her yet at the same time sending darts of pleasure throughout her body. "You're pretty enough," he told her, then he ran a hand down her front. "You feel passing good to the casual observer, let's say—" and his hand came up between her thighs and her gasp sounded a little too much like a pleasure-moan. The pirate captain gave her a suggestive leer and began to disrobe her, one piece of clothing at a time; each piece of clothing he dramatically threw over the rail and out to sea. The message was plain: You will not need clothing for what you will be doing, and once you can't please one of us, over the rail you will go too. Gwen struggled, but the pirates holding her legs pulled backward until she felt split apart by the force against her pelvis and her strength waned. The captain continued disrobing her, this time using a cruel-looking blade to assist him. Gwen's skin tried to crawl away from the knife and the captain nicked her with it. Gwen to Sea "Be careful," he told her. "When you're all wriggly like that, my knife could slip..." and the blade nicked her again, with a feeling like a paper cut, one that doesn't bleed but hurts like hell. Gwen, petrified, could only look down with wide and pleading eyes as her skirt was torn away and slashed in pieces before being thrown overboard. With no ceremony whatsoever her brassiere and panties were cut from her and she stood naked before the crew. She was released, and all drew back from her as she shook the chains to get the manacles unstuck from her wrists. All the pirates ranked about her began to mutter among themselves in a low pitch that she couldn't quite understand. All of them at some point looked over their shoulder at her. Most of them turned and stared at her full-on, arms crossed, an evil, greedy look in their eyes. Eventually the captain stood up. "No more," he said. She stays with me." "For a minute, I thought I was gonna get some kind of safety from this," I told the doctor, "like he would protect me or something." "That's reasonable," he said. "Any sanctuary would look good around then." "And...I don't know why, but I felt a security from his just saying that I stayed with him. Like, I'll stay with you and do your laundry and suck your cock and whoever else's you tell me to." I felt Dr Annon's side against mine; he skipped a breath. "And when you get sick of me, you'll drop me off at a friendly port, not throw me over the side to drown." His hand took mine and I leaned onto him. "And now, well, you know the problems I have." "You never answered me about why you touched yourself after Jacques ejaculated onto you," he told me matter-of-factly. "Do you know why?" "I guess...it made me feel...low, and worthless...humiliated. And I liked that feeling." "Why?" He sounded confused. "I don't know," I told him. "I just did. Maybe it wasn't so far to fall from one low to another." "Did you achieve orgasm?" "No." To her shame, Gwen felt fortunate to have to lose her virginity to a pirate captain rather than a mere crew member..like Jacques, she thought, and her eyes teared for him. She knew she should have fucked him then, if her cherry were going to be lost anyway. If Jacques were here, she knew she'd take him over the captain. But the pirates growled and roared their displeasure, hurled insults, and bellowed indignant queries about when their turn would be. But the captain—Gwen still hadn't found out his name—only pointed at two crewmen and they came forward and took her by the arms and legs. She was given a neat shake that dislodged her manacle chains, and carried below decks. Her glimpse of the cabtain's quarters, as she was hustled through, was one of opulence and varying tastes. He had collections of various things she could only identify as a collection by their similarity. She was carried into the captain's bunk and her manacle chain was secured by lock to a ring set in the hull. She had expected this, but was taken by surprise when her ankles were locked into a pair that hung from above. Her legs were held apart and their height was adjusted so that her vulva was spread open. Gwen could feel the cool air touch her there, where the pirates had made her warm and wet "Who are you, Gwen Phillips?" he asked her, taking his hat off and placing it on a nearby coat hook. She tried to answer but found herself sobbing and pleading for him to let her go, to leave her alone and that she wouldn't be any trouble, they could just drop her off on the nearest friendly island and she'd never ever tell-- Even before he slapped the bottom of her foot with a riding crop, sending a splinter of pure agony through her, she knew she was doomed. The pirates were going to kill her; they had to. And it didn't matter what they did to her because she was doomed. He watched the pirate take off his clothes and carefully fold and hang them, while she twisted and tried fruitlessly to close her legs and arms against his gaze. Naked, he stood before her and stared at her black pussy hair and breasts one size too large for her frame and said, "Not bad. Now I will use you, and see if I find you sweet. You might find it more pleasant than breathing seawater.." His cock, hugely erect, came into her view and she began, unintended, to gasp and beg for pity again. "I am Captain Douglass Filner", he told her. "You may call me Captain Fil. He laughed at his own joke and fitted himself between her legs. She felt the ram poking at her, poking at her right there. "You can't, I'm a virgin!" she cried, playing her last card without much hope. But to her surprise he stopped immediately and slipped his fingers down to examine. "You...you are? You are!" He was excited about this. "Hmm. We can't have this, then." He opened a drawer and rummaged in it, producing a small box with lid affixed. Filner wetted his hand with some substance from the box, and he began slathering the substance onto his cock with swirling, pulling motions. Gwen resigned herself, knowing that if he were going to take her virginity it was considerate of him to use grease. But Filner instead shifted the mechanism holding her ankle chains backward and down, and her hips were pulled up to expose her anus. "Oh, no, wait, I didn't mean you—I mean, you—do you want to just fuck me instead?" Gwen asked, when she saw what he had for her and where it was intended to go. And when its fleshy head touched the circle of her ass and began to slide into her, her muscles tightened and she flung herself aside. "No, really, you can fuck my pussy", she told him. "No." the denial was flat. And then he grabbed her hips and worked his cock into her ass, while she screamed in pain and a sweet humiliation making her labia swell and her wetness was evident to all. It seemed a mile long and he thrust it into her in long smooth strokes. Filner pulled back just a little before thrusting it in, and his next stroke got a little longer, and it felt like she was getting split in half and it felt like something she had sought her entire life was suddenly found and it hurt like hell and she wanted more of it, all of it, and she ground herself against him. "You like this, don't you?" he asked her, and looked between her legs. He reached to touch the wetness, and his touch on her clit brought her to a point where she hovered on the edge of orgasm, and Filner ran his wet fingers over her lips, and that sent her over. She licked his fingers like a dog as she came, and he bent to suck one nipple and the sensation was an excruciating euphoria. The maddening rhythm of the invading monster deep in her ass continued and continued, never changing speed or stopping, and she found that it was getting more uncomfortable, and realized his penis was swelling. She knew what was going to happen, and happen it did: Filner stopped for half a second before his thrust and then grunted loudly and slammed into her. She felt the monster spurting within her each time Filner grunted, felt pounded by his hands on her hips and his cock in her ass, and she felt a wave of satisfaction roll through her that was beyond what she'd thought any orgasm could be. Filner pulled himself out of her without ceremony and began washing himself in a basin. "Why did you tell me 'no'?" she asked. "Didn't you want my pussy?" "I do," he told her, turning back to look at her while she felt come leaking down the crack of her ass. But you're a virgin. If I were to fuck you, you'd be worth half what you are now to the slavers. Fortunately, there are other ways to appease a lusty crew." His voice was curiously cultured. "Do you know how to use those gorgeous lips for anything besides eating and talking? No, I don't suppose you do," he answered himself at her blank stare. "That's a shame; your mother was quite good. She'd gone through four before she got to Tommy, and he's been worried about his sick mother..." Gwen realized what he was talking about and came to the bleak understanding that she was going to have make pirates climax into her mouth, and there might be an hourglass in the game. "...It's too late we couldn't have kept her on for a few days, but she just wasn't fast enough." "A few days? that would be in the middle of nowhere. What would you do, throw her over the side?" "Of course," he replied smoothly. "We don't need to spend the food and water to support some old scow who'll be old and uninteresting by her third pass around the deck. You, now...oh, no offense about your mom...From you, we can get some fun and games and as long as we don't pop the seal on your little soda-can, you're worth a fortune to me. Enough to pay for your passage to the first slavery house that'll pay what I want, and then we part ways. And you'd best start feeling grateful right now—this ship's last captain liked rim-jobs." The sound of his laughter drifted away from the captain's bunk and Gwen was alone. "So Filner never actually had sex with you?" Dr Annon had that look on, like he thought he knew everything but didn't. "He fucked me up my ass, Doctor. That's sex. When you can feel a man come inside you, anywhere, that's sex." "I stand corrected," he said with that gorgeous little smile I was starting to hate. "He never had vaginal sex with you." "No. But I wished we would, so I wouldn' look so good sold into slavery. I wanted...I think I wanted to stay with him." "After he raped you?" "Well, I thought if one rapes me but no-one else does, then I only have that one's germs to worry about." "Was he the only one that raped you?" "Wasn't that enough, Doctor? You're pretty interested in this, aren't you?" I ran my fingers along his neckline. "Does this make you hard?" I grabbed his dick, it was hard as an iron rod. He just looked at me, making no move to make me let go." "It would be unethical for me to do anything sexual with you," he told me. "But you want to," I told him, and he did not answer this. "What happened after he raped you?" His change of subject was unsubtle and almost laughable, and I gave his dick a little squeeze-and-rub before I let it go. "I couldn't move. I sat there chained up in that room on a mattress that was covered with fleas and lice, and sat there and sat there for hours while I had to piss worse and worse and worse. Finally this guy came in with a bedpan, and adjusted my legs so I could go in that, and once I was done, he cleaned me with his tongue. He cleaned my ass too." I giggled. "He licked and licked and I tried not to but I came in his face, and then he grabbed the bucket and the bedpan and ran out of the cabin. "I could tell that it was getting light out by then by looking out the door, and I could see the shadow of one of the guards. Just then I see this other shadow come up behind the first one and does this sideways jerking thing, and the guard falls into the door grabbing its own throat and shooting blood everywhere. I heard shouts and the clanging of swords, and then another pirate I'd seen before gets dropped in the doorway. By this time I'm screaming to whoever it is to come and let me out, I didn't think that as soon as he walked in he would see me all spread open like I had a sign on me that said 'please fuck me'." I sighed, deep and all tremulous. I felt a warmth between my legs that I hadn't felt in years. Real years, not just a figure of speech. "But he didn't come; I just watched the shadow slink away. I screamed like hell," she said. "I think that's why my voice is always a little hoarse now. Throaty, my second husband called it." Of all my husbands, he was the one I missed least; I'd told him I had a really hard time with sex, and he told me he understood, but he still wanted it way too much, like once a month. I'd have settled for once a season. It was work; sex just sucks when there's no payoff, you have to really work just to get come all over you. You might as well give head, which I did. It's expected these days. It wasn't much different from what I'd been doing, anyway, except you get a mouthful of Joy at the end. "I screamed and I screamed, and yelled, and swung myself to knock against the side of the berth and it hurt like hell, my wrists took weeks to heal. And guess who walks in." Filner was a large man, and he carried all his weight on his shoulders. He filled the doorway, blotting out the sun and casting his shadow over her. The temperature in the captain's cabin seemed to drop six degrees; Gwen got gooseflesh and her nipples were hard and sore. Her swing slowed and she metronomed to a stop. She never saw the riding crop that slapped her labia, hard enough to sting. Her muscles tensed up against her bonds and tears squeezed from her eyes uncontrollably; the fire was suddenly soothed by his tongue touching her pussy, kissing right where the crop had hit her, her tongue circling, wetting, and then slick between her lips and she felt him feeling her and she screamed and struggled and her juice wetted his face. His tongue touched her right there, right where the pirates had prodded her and sent her into spasms. He grabbed her hips and she sank down to him without resistance, her pussy suddenly greedy for more of his play. "So I make you hot," Finley told her, and slid his tongue into her brain again. "You make me hot too, Amber," he said and then stopped. "Audrey? Ehh Elizabeth? Dammit, who are you?" "I'm...nobody," she replied. He stood up from her. "No, you're not nobody, you're somebody," he told her. Now, who?" "I'm nobody important, I'm just going to see my grandma, please let me go, I'd be a lot better if I could sit on your face--" and the crop came down, cutting her in the valley between her labia and thigh. She did her best not to scream, felling herself tense and tasting saltwater. No tongue came to soothe this one; yet her pussy was on fire even as her body tensed away from the pain and she hissed breath through gritted teeth. "Who are you, love?" he asked, melodramatic. "Why do you want to know?" "I want to know whose family to send a ransom note to." Gwen hadn't considered this. "I thought you were going to sell me into slavery." "It'd be silly to do that if grandma will pay more, no?" He grinned and rubbed the riding crop against her clit. Gwen almost purred. "Of course, I could keep you here..." The crop continued to stroke her in a constant, maddening rhythm, and she felt her muscles tightening for a different reason. "Please keep me here, Captain," she told him. and she meant it. "Do you want to tumble the entire crew, with most of them itching to get rid of the unlucky woman on board?" he asked, and her mind was horrified while pussy juice ran down the crack of her buttocks. "Do you want to play games with them when they're drunk? They played a game with your mother. Do you want that?" She remembered her mother, and cried tears not of pain. "I want you," she told him. "Can't I be with just you?" He considered. "No. You know, it does occur to me that if we're not selling you to the slavers, you don't need to be a virgin to be worth the money, and then you'd do all those things anyway." He grinned and shrugged. "Sucks to be you. At least they'd keep you alive; you'd live longer than you would as a ship's wench." "Please don't let them kill me, Captain," she begged him. "I'll do anything, I'll suck your cock, anything at all--" "That is not open to negotiation," he told her. "But I can't keep my friends from a little fair play, and that can be a form of gambling. A couple of the crew got to drinking rum a few weeks ago, and had a duel with 45's on the deck. We threw the loser to sea. He was still alive. The winner got 24 dollars and a gram of hash. Before that we were at sea a long time, and we were all bored to tears, and I played chess with a man. We bet our lives. I won and he jumped to sea." He looked at her darkly. "It's a dice roll for you now," he told her. It depends on whether the slavers pay more that you'll keep this--" and he put his finger on Gwen's hymen. "--and it's up to your grandma whether we find out if you can deep throat Ted over there--" He gestured out the door. "--with a gun to your head, and he's hung like a rhino. And it's up to you to keep us all happy in the interim." And he dropped his coat and his trousers and his cock sprang into view. He lay on his side in the bunk and his cock was level with Gwen's face if she turned her head. She realized that no-one—not even the man whose dick was getting sucked—was going to help her with a damn thing, and she had to learn to suck dick very well and quickly. She ran her tongue around her mouth and stirred up enough saliva to place upon his cock. She licked around, spiraling, and then opened as wide as she could and slid him into her mouth. She gagged at first on the taste and the rubbery texture of the skin, but she slid her mouth down the underside of him and heard him gasp. Realizing that she might not have to swallow him, she worked on the underside of his cock, dragging her lips and tongue over and over on the underside of his shaft and listening to his breathing quicken. Soon, though, he guided her head to force her to take his cock in her mouth and he shoved it into her throat. Gwen gagged, pulled her head away from him, only to be impaled on his spike again. "Who are you?" he yelled, and forced himself into her throat. She tasted his semen She took him as deeply as she could, and when he went too deep she closed her throat and gave him no further entry; as if it understood this rudimentary language, the cock began to pull out and push in only to that depth. She made an O out of her lips and let his dick slide in and out, her tongue flicking from side to side on the underside of his shaft. And again. And again. And presently she could taste him, like Jacques but headier, heavier and more redolent of Filner. She felt her pussy dripping as she was violated by his penetration; she felt herself lick and suck him with more passion, and his speed increased. He laced his hand into her hair and pulled her face onto him, fucking himself with her face, and he took a deep breath and his penis swelled. Gwen remembered well the usual end result of these symptoms, and so she had some warning of what was to come, but he pulled himself out of her mouth.and backed away well before he shot. "No..." he said softly. He positioned himself for action and pressed the head of his throbbing cock against her hymen. "I've decided to keep you on. Which means you've no use at all for this here." And he began to press, inexorable, painful, and sudden gunfire and he straightened. Gwen heard blood hitting the floor. The voice came from behind him. As Filner tensed to thrust, a shot fired and he stopped cold. Gwen was once again spattered. The Captain's beseeching eyes asked a question; his lips pursed and he tried to ask it. "Gwen," she said. "My name is Gwen." His brow cleared and he smiled as he fell, to reveal Jacques, handgun smoking, feasting his eyes on her and grinning dazzlingly. "What did you think he would do to you?" Doc's voice was a little breathless, I thought, and I couldn't help but sneak a peek at his crotch for a confirmed sighting of the hardon I knew he'd had for a good long while now. "I didn't give a shit what he did to me as long as he let me out of those chains," I told him, openly staring at his crotch with a depressing and all-too-familiar apathy. "Do you want this?" he asked her. "Doc, don't feel bad about this, but I could care less. Now, if that dick was sticking out of Filner, I'd be on my knees..." I stopped; I knew. "Pirates," I told myself in a tiny voice. A chord within me answered. "It's pirates." She turned to the doctor. "I just realized something: pirates get me hot." She faced him. "Pirates, right?" Gwen to Sea "Mm, I don't think so," Dr Annon replied, next to me on the sofa making no attempt to disguise the lump in his pants. "I think it's humiliation. The pirates humiliated you, they used you for sex, and you identify the pirates with the humiliation." "Nuh-uh," I told him. "I've been tied up, beaten up, with women, with men, whipped, tickled and pissed on by a dog." Also truth. The dog thing wasn't planned; we started fooling around and his brother's fucking beagle just pissed right in my hair. It wasn't exciting. Dr Annon had heard the tale and nodded for me to go on. "It's not humiliation. It's fucking pirates." she paused. "Hard." Gwen's first action out of the manacles was to rub her wrists. When she did so, she quickly pulled her hands away from her stinging wrists and she saw the marks they had left on her. Jacques took her wrists and kissed them, and then he embraced her and lifted her out of the captain's bunk to lay her on the floor. Gwen rubbed a few cramps out of her legs and arms. "Where were you?" she asked. "Oh, you expecting me?" he asked her, and laughed. "On anchor chain. I killed a lot o dem before dey even look deah, but den I'se someplace else. An' so I'm finally done." He pointed to her pussy. "An' I gonna fuck you now 'cause I saved your life." "You think I'll just fuck you for that?" she asked him, knowing she would; he'd won her. "Yes, it just you an me on this big boat now, and you ain't been fucked yet, because of me, ya?" She rolled herself over and got to her knees, and unfastened Jacques' pants. He hadn't bathed in 2 days and he smelled bad, but as soon as his semierect cock was exposed, she swallowed it with a will, pulling him in and out of her mouth to press the head against her lips and run her tongue all the way down the underside. She pulled away from him and looked up at him while she settled and spread her legs. "Jacques, it's yours. You won it." and she pulled his hard cock toward her. Jacques' first thrust was a nightmare. There was no subtlety, no finesse, just a searing pain all throughout her lower body and a scream was torn from her. Jacques stopped. "I'm sorry about--" "Never mind, keep going," she interrupted. "Just—just fuck me, Jacques--" He drove into her again, sliding in a little way and ripping another scream from her. He shoved once more and she felt a tearing, and she was able to loosen herself and let him slide in, a little at a time, just slowly enough to not cause the searing knife to slice through her pussy. It kept coming and coming, and finally bottomed out in her, and went deeper still, and it felt like it was moving her organs around, and it was dry and scratchy all the way in, and dry and scratchy all the way out, and then coming in again it was just scratchy. He pulled out again and stuck it into her, and he pulled out and rammed her, and the pain she'd avoided earlier made another appearance. She moved her hips with him, so as to lessen the chance of damage, and so Jacques picked her up and set her down, in rapid succession. Gwen screamed through gritted teeth and told herself she'd put up with worse from Filner. And that memory brought a twinge of need to her, but no more. She could not see why people did this. But she chanced a glance to her left and saw the late Captain Fil, dead, naked—and erect. She marvelled at the pole that had been inside her in almost three places. The image brought Gwen's mind into sex, and her hips into line with Jacques, and they established a rhythm-- She relaxed for him; she let him slide, and he was big, so big, but she could take him-- Their pubic bones rubbed together just a little and Gwen felt tingles all over-- Jacques' mouth found her nipple and she felt it all the way to her pussy, arcing like electricity-- She slid on him and looked once more at what she had in her ass and her breathing quickened and she ground herself onto Jacques and he moaned-- And she threw her head back and he arched into her and it hurt like hell but it felt so fucking good-- Her breathing hitched and she looked at the dead pirate—and it was like a wave of plesure had washed over her from deep in her pussy. She heard her self murmuring assurances to God and her pussy was suddenly very wet and Jacques was grunting and moaning and his hips moved spastically against her. Gwen lay on her back and fell asleep with him still inside her. Dr Annon is not a seagoing man, so his outlook was just about zero for getting me off, but he tried. He tried making me lick his balls, suck his cock, kiss his ass, all kinds of things to humiliate me; he put on a little pirate mask and I almost shit, I was laughing so hard. Then he had me over the back of the couch, just railing me, and it was like standing with my feet in cold water. But then I remembered again the pirate who had almost taken my cherry alive and who had made me come dead. And then I can feel his cock inside me in a new way; it feels like I might not have a choice, like I might get thrown to sea...and I close my eyes, and I remember what it was like to suck the pirate's cock and take him in the ass, and his hard cock while Jacques fucked me, and how Filner fucking me in the ass had felt better than Jacques taking my pussy. Jacques had felt more like rape. But oh did it make me come by the time it was done. I'd woke up and eaten and showered for an hour, and by then Jacues had the ship under way I was on my knees in the wheelhouse sucking him off. The Coast Guard picked us up about sundown. But by then Jacques and I had had sex twice more plus the mouthful I got in the wheelhouse. But wherever we were, if there wasn't a pirate around I couldn't come. At all. Once that Coast Guard cutter picked us up, Jacques couldn't please me in bed. Our relationship was done by the time they dropped us off in Chesapeake Bay. This time I'm doing it by my mind alone; I can remember the pirate so strongly—damn. There it goes, and I'm sick of fucking even as I felt my doctor's cock pushing itself into my ass. I felt myself tightening up and forced myself to stop. I haven't given permission for this to anyone since the pirates. But my doctor took it without asking, and he held me so I couldn't move—like a pirate, and the last man who took my ass was a pirate and I remembered this sneaking feeling deep in my belly and the way a finger felt on my pussy just like that while this cock was sliding in and out of my ass and this finger was sliding into me and I had never felt this before and I could imagine Captain Fil, he sure did fill me, didn't he, I remembered I'd tasted his come and—and—and—oh my God yes and I could feel my pussy gush and I grasped him with my ass, and he ripped in and out anyway, even though I clenched, and it hurt, and I came hard and he came even harder, his seed burning in me and I came, I couldn't believe it, I came for the first time in 12 years. I know what I have to do. I dress without a word. "You do realize that I can't see you any more as your doctor, right?" "Oh, you won't see me at all." I pick up my bag and look around the office to make sure nothing had been left behind. "Why not? Where are you going?" he asked. I opened the door and stopped. "Joining the Merchant Marines," I told him, and walked out.