8 comments/ 108151 views/ 56 favorites Princess and the Pea By: Goldeniangel It was a dark and stormy night when the guard answered the loud desperate knocking at the castle door. Opening it up he found himself looking at a bedraggled, yet beautiful girl. Her blonde hair hung straggling down her back, the linen gown she was wearing clung to her body like a second skin and he could feel his groin tightening at the sight of her firm, luscious curves. Blue eyes peered up at him through thick lashes that were dewy with raindrops. "Well hello darling," he drawled, "And what can we do for you?" Raising herself up with dignity, a hard task in that clinging and revealing gown, the girl replied in a soft yet firm voice, "I am the Princess Kerowyll from the Kingdom of Bran, I have come to meet the Prince Granthell." Looking the girl over the guard was uncertain... sure the gown was made of fine material and there were jewels hanging from her earlobes... and she was certainly very beautiful; but who had ever heard of a Princess walking in the rain? "Where's your entourage?" he demanded, not wanting to take a common girl before the Queen - the Queen was hard enough on the guards who let real Princesses in, much less a pretender. "We were attacked by bandits," she replied, "They led a diversion so that I could escape, about half a league from here." Well, the Kingdom was having a bit of a bandit problem. Perhaps she was telling the truth. And as the Queen had so far turned down all the real Princesses - that they KNEW were real - down as being false, he doubted that presenting one of dubious lineage could be much worse. At any rate, he didn't want to be at fault if this girl did turn out to be royalty - and worse, his future Queen. Not that he really thought she'd pass the test - none of the other real Princesses had - but it was better safe than sorry. ****************************** When they came into the Great Hall, the Queen and her son, Prince Granthell, frankly stared - along with the rest of the courtiers. It wasn't just that the gown was still clinging to her lithe and attractive figure (it was), or that she was soaking wet (she was), or even that the guard was looking somewhat nervous (he was).... it was just that she was uncommonly beautiful. Perhaps the most beautiful of the girls to be brought before the throne... and the unusualness of her lack of entourage as well as her disheveled state made for many more stares. Despite all of that, the self-proclaimed Princess Kerowyll kept her head high as she walked a stately gait forwards to the edge of the dais and curtsied gracefully to the Queen and Prince. "What is this?" the Queen demanded, looking at the guard. But it was Kerowyll who answered. "I am the Princess Kerowyll, I have come from the Kingdom of Bran to approach the Prince Granthell." Standing calmly and serenely, the Princess didn't react at all to the Queen's towering glare. "And you expect me to believe that a Princess comes before us, in this lackluster state, and without her entourage?" the Queen was practically sneering. "We were attacked by bandits, not half a league from here," Kerowyll replied evenly, "And my entourage distracted them so that I could escape and make way here by foot. If I am turned out then I must request a party to accompany me home where my father will be able to put together a force to recover my attendants." The Queen's sneer lost some of its disdain as she looked at the girl who was dripping water on her marble floors. After a long moment of silence she said, "Well. If you are a Princess, you will first have to pass the test." Looking at her Chancellor she told him, "Prepare the room for the 'Princess' Kerowyll, and get her a new dress. She will dine with us tonight and then we will talk more on the morrow." As the Prince watched the beautiful girl leave, her hair hanging down to where the dress clung to the curves of her ass, he cursed his mother. Many princesses had arrived at their castle, looking for his hand in marriage, and his mother played a dirty trick on every single one of them. He knew why she didn't want him to marry, when he did he would become King and she would no longer have sole rule over the Kingdom. In fact, she wouldn't have that much power at all... only that of the Dowager Queen. So, she insisted to the court that Princesses had the most sensitive skin of all, real Princesses would be able to feel a pea placed under 20 feather mattresses and 20 big downy blankets. And so every Princess who arrived at court would leave in tears, completely unknowing as to why the Queen declared that the girl was not a REAL Princess. The court knew, but they believe the Queen. She'd even 'proven' it by doing the test herself. Of course, the Prince had peeked into the room and seen the Queen pinching herself all over that night to give herself bruises for the next morning. No one REALLY had skin that sensitive, but it was a good excuse for her to remain in power longer. Gritting his teeth, the Prince glared at his mother. Not only was this the most beautiful girl he'd seen in a long time, the tightening in his groin responding to the way her dress clung lewdly to her, but he was tired of his mother's political machinations. It was time for this to stop. That night at dinner, Prince Granthell poured the wine for the Princess Kerowyll himself. This was because he was slipping a sleeping drug into her drink, guarenteed to make her sleep throughout the night... but with an almost vague memory. Not asleep, not awake, and certainly not truly aware. If his mother could pinch herself to 'prove' she was a real Queen, then he could pinch this Princess to get a wife. And a beautiful wife she'd make indeed... not only that, but he liked her calm serenity and the kind way she treated everyone around her - even the servants. It was a sharp contrast to the imperious ways of his mother. Perhaps the Princess wouldn't like being drugged and pinched, but she would like being tossed out in the morning without replacement attendents even less. And she would apparently like to be married to him, all the trouble she'd gone to with getting to the castle. So it would even out. ************************ That night Prince Granthell snuck into the sleeping Princess' room and climbed to the top of the ladder, looking down on her sleeping face. Fortunately the mattress' were quite wide - wouldn't do to have a sleeping Princess fall off of course, it was one thing to turn a Princess down and quite another to accidently kill or maim her. There was more than enough room for 10 people on it, much less just him climbing on beside the sleeping girl. Looking down at her he marveled at her beauty. Not only that, but the very kindness of her was visible even when sleeping, in the slight curve of her smile. He much preferred her to many of the other Princesses that had come before her; their haughty ways and snooty looks had annoyed him... how could a women be passionate in bed and be a good companion when they were always looking as though they smelled something awful? Perhaps his mother had been doing him a service... but she wasn't now, not by putting this sweet and joyful girl through the test that no one could pass. As much as he didn't want to pinch her and give her bruises, he knew it was necessary. Gritting his teeth, he turned down the blanket... and gasped. The Princess was sleeping nude... wonderfully and gloriously nude.... he thanked all the stars above that he'd slipped the sleeping potion into her drink. If she were to wake to him staring at her naked body he didn't know what she would do. Although he certainly knew what he wanted to do to her... especially right now with her laying here before him, a slight smile on her face and her round breasts rising and falling with each breath. She was stunning, perfectly flawless, from her ivory skin to the small patch of blonde hair on her mound. Groaning, he lay next to her and ran his hand above her body, not actually touching her, just following the line from her collarbone, over her breast and down to her mound and smooth thighs. Damn she made him hard. Well... there WAS more than one way to give someone bruises... and she WAS going to be his wife soon... and he hadn't had a woman since his father died six years ago and his mother had taken over and kept him from seducing the kitchen maids. Perhaps tonight he could get some pre-marital relief... and make sure that this beautiful Princess became his bride. Blowing gently across her chest, he watched as her perfect pink nipples hardened into little buds, looking like ripe fruit ready for plucking. Reaching out, he gently touched one, almost shuddering at the pleasure that just touching her gave him, he ran his finger around it and then pinched it gently. In her sleep, the Princess' mouth gaped slightly as she let her breath out in a sigh. He pulled his hand back like a child caught stealing candy as her body shifted slightly, spreading her legs open a little more. Smiling at this small success, he reached out with both hands and began softly caressing her breasts, then began to massage them more firmly, feeling his dick ache in the confines of his trousers as he played with her body. Princess Kerowyll continued to breath deeply as he began to squeeze her breasts, and she actually let out a small moan when he lowered his mouth to suck on one pink nipple. Flicking the hardened nubbin with his tongue, he watched her face as her mouth opened a little more and she sighed. It would be so wonderful on their wedding night to do this and see her looking back at him. Moving his mouth reluctantly off her nipple, he began to suck on portions of her breast, sucking very hard so as to draw the blood to the surface. He began to create hickeys all over her, her stomach, arms, chest, hips, and legs; it became almost a compulsion, to get another part of her body into his mouth for him to suck. After awhile, he found himself between her legs, staring hungrily at her pussy. It was glistening with juices, she'd become aroused in her sleep by all his attentions - and no wonder, her nipples were shiny with his saliva. No matter how many times he'd gone to another part of her body, he'd always returned to her nipples, nibbling and twisting them with his fingers. Now he could see the fruits of his success in her moist pink slit. He couldn't help himself. Practically diving into her pussy he began to eat like a starving man, sucking and nibbling on her outer lips. The Princess began to moan, her pussy becoming even wetter as he wriggled his tongue in her virgin hole. Pressing a finger in, he ran into her barrier. Definitely a virgin. Although that was the normal state for Princesses, he almost sighed in disappointment. Not that he wanted a bride in any other condition... but something inside him wished that he would have been able to get away with relieving himself in that sweet hole. And yet... just a little further down was another hole. Pausing in his ministrations, he looked at that crinkled hole, that tiny little pink rosebud. He'd never considered putting anything there before... would it be possible? Dubiously he looked down at the substantial bulge in his trousers. Surely that wouldn't fit into that tight little space. And yet... wasn't her pussy hole just as tight? Possible. Curiously he leaned down... and flicked his tongue against that little star. Her body jerked in response, and he found that there was no bad taste there like he might have thought. It was just slightly more musky than her pussy. This time he gave it a much longer swipe, and then began to lave it with his tongue, treating it like he had her sweet pussy. Princess Kerowyll seemed to like this a lot, her moans increased and she started to thrash a little on the bed. Wetting his finger in the juices leaking from her pussy, Prince Granthell pressed it against the hole he was currently licking; with just some firm pressure it gave way. Carefully he pressed in and out, working his finger slowly into that achingly tight space, watching it mimic the sex act with all the wrong equipment. She was very very tight and very hot. The expression on her face was kind of a grimace, as though this was slightly painful. Continuing to move his finger back and forth inside of her, he watched as her face slowly relaxed and then she began to moan again. Maybe this really would work. Removing his finger from her bottom, he wet a second finger by rubbing it along the length of her pussy and then pressed the two into that tight hole. It stretched whitley around his knuckles, and she recovered even more quickly from this invasion, her moans beginning much sooner. Apparently it was quite possible to stretch out this darling little hole, and he began to get even more excited as he considered taking her in this improbable way. There was no barrier here for anyone to discover his invasion, and she certainly seemed to like all the attention he was giving her there. Finally he was able to release himself from the confines of his trousers, and he groaned with relief as his dick sprang forward. Eagerly looking the ivory length of her body, he was even more turned on by the sight of bruised flesh mottling her body. Not because he liked girls with bruises, but because he knew that his mouth had put them there, a kind of territorial marking. Rubbing his dick up and down her pussy slit, he made sure to press it against her clit each time, and each time he did so her body jumped and ground her ass more firmly onto his fingers. He spent a few pleasurable minutes just wetting his dick with her juices, wishing that he could plunge into the heated hole above the one where his fingers were imbedded. Pulling his fingers out of that aperture, he turned her over, using a few pillows under her hips to put that delectable ass up in the air. With her long blonde hair spread over her back and the pillows in front of her, he could see the side of her face, lips slightly parted with pleasure as he lined his dick up with that tiny hole. It gaped slightly from all the exercise he'd given it with his fingers, but it still looked ridiculously small compared to his rampaging dick. On the other hand, a woman's pussy hole didn't look all that large either. Eagerly he pressed the mushroom crown of his member against the opening and pushed gently but firmly. As the very tip pressed in with a slight pop, her mouth opened even wider in surprise and she moaned, a slightly painful moan. Carefully he stopped all movement, not wanting to hurt her, even though his instinct was to plunge straight into this new and exciting place. It was wonderfully tight, it felt like she was squeezing the head of his dick off in the most pleasurable way possible. Gently, he began to saw back and forth, very slowly and delicately, pressing just slightly more into her body with each movement. The expression on her face never quite lost its pained look, but she didn't look like she was in any extra pain as he moved deeper and deeper into her. Finally his hips were pressed against the firm curve of her ass and they both moaned. With infinite tenderness he began to draw himself out and press in, trying to be as careful and gentle as he could. With every thrust she seemed to get a little more used to the invasion, and after awhile she even started moving her hips a little as she moaned in her sleep. It didn't take more than that for him to start really pounding away, fucking her ass as he wanted to do to her pussy, riding her for all she was worth. This beautiful princess was belly-up in front of him, his future bride and the first woman he'd had in six long years, with his rampaging hard on stuck deep into her most private hole. The thought alone made him want to blow his load almost immediately. Instead he hung on, reaching underneath her body to play with her tits as he tried to get more control over himself. He stopped thrusting, just letting himself sit completely buried in her body, although even though was incredibly pleasurable as her ass moved in tiny amounts against him and her hole clenched and unclenched around him, massaging his dick. Pinching her nipples, he twisted them and groaned as her ass reacted around him. Continuing to fondle her hanging breasts with one hand, he reached down with the other to play with her pussy, fingering her clit and groaning as that got an even stronger reaction. Unable to help himself, he started to thrust again, wildly and roughly as his fingers pinched and flicked her clit. When she started to cum underneath him he couldn't take it anymore and his dick buried itself in her spasming asshole as he loosed a torrent of pent-up cum into her bowels. Completely exhausted, he lay on top of her for awhile, his cheek resting against her back and his soft dick still in her ass. Eventually, before he fell asleep, he managed to force himself up and back to his room, extremely happy and pleased with himself for the bride he'd chosen. *********************** The next day the castle was abuzz with the news that the Princess had been heard groaning almost all night, surely it was because she'd managed to feel the pea underneath the pile of mattresses and blankets! Perhaps they had finally found a real Princess! The news was confirmed when she came into the Great Hall, limping slightly and with what was visible of her arms and chest covered with roundish bruises. Even when she sat you could see that she had passed a hard night, and that every movement gave her slight pain. The Prince looked on with a most concerned look on his face - as well he should given that he had to hope his mother's whims hadn't caused lasting damage to his new bride. All the castle celebrated as the Queen locked herself in her rooms and the Prince took the Princess to the church, to be married that day. That night at the wedding feast, the new Queen murmured in her husband's ear, "I hope you don't think you need to drug me again tonight to get me into your bed." The King looked positively dumbfounded as she smiled demurely at him. Princess and the Pee "What the Fuck?!" Princess screamed as I entered the bathroom. She was naked, in the shower, the water cascading over her lush eighteen year old body. I had always called my stepdaughter "Princess" ever since we met when she was about 6 years old. Initially, it had been a tribute to her tiny perfect Disney blonde good looks. As puberty changed her attitude from sweetness to entitlement, the nickname had become overlaid with sarcasm. Princess lived mostly with her father, since her Mom had abandoned them when Princess was just two or three, preferring a lifestyle of drinking and fucking around to domestic bliss. Not surprisingly, we had met in a bar, and she had gone home with me the first night. We had fucked like rabbits from then on, but my wife was not the monogamous sort. Fortunately, thinking of her body writhing around a hard strange cock just turned me on. Gradually though, we had grown apart and my sex life consisted mostly of my right hand. Even with Princess only an intermittent visitor, it had not escaped my attention that in the past few years she had blossomed into a hot curvaceous young woman - a full round tight ass, a pair of pendulous tits that looked great in sweaters, doe eyes, a pendulous lower lip framing a mouth that begged to suck a cock. Not just any cock- in my fantasies, it was made to swallow my fat cock. I had jerked off to that fantasy many times. My urges had become more urgent in the past couple of weeks. Princess had moved in with us, after her Dad had caught her fucking her boyfriend. I had met the young man, and bet he had a nice hard young cock. I would have loved to watch Princess suck that cock, and be fucked by it. Her real Dad though had told her she could not move back in until she promised to quit fucking. Since that was not going to happen, her stay with us was indefinite. We all bet her Dad, who had never remarried, would give in, but until then, our house had another resident. Our one bathroom house. "I have to piss really badly," I explained to Princess, "and my bladder got tired of waiting for you to run out of hot water." Princess had clutched the shower curtain across her ample firm bosom, ignoring the fact that it was transparent plastic, so it did nothing to hide the view of the droplets dripping off her pink bubblegum nipples. Her movement just drew my attention to them rather than to completing my urgent task. "Piss off," she spat back, "you can't just walk in on me when I'm naked." "It's my house, I'll piss whenever I want to," I asserted. "And the way you flounce about, I've already imagined everything ten times over. Seeing your goodies for real is much less erotic than my imagination, trust me." THAT got Princess' attention. She dropped the shower curtain, shoved it aside and turned to face me with her arms spread and feet apart. I noticed that she still had a wisp of pubic hair, matted by the water, but clearly matching her natural blonde colouring. "Well, take a good look, then piss off... this is the closest you'll ever get to these goodies, so I hope you enjoy jerking off to the memories, you pathetic old man." I felt an urge to spank her, but the urge to piss was more urgent. "Piss on, more like it," I growled in response. "Piss on you, in fact." As I spoke, I unzipped my pants. My engorged cock was weighty with the pressure of bladder fighting with my roiling balls, so it fell out into the warm moist air. In spite of herself, Princess took a good look, and I noticed that her lower lip quivered as her mouth dropped open just a touch. "On your knees," I commanded. Looking back, if I had been thinking at that moment, I never would have expected Princess to obey, but she did, sinking to the porcelain bottom of the tub, legs tucked under that great ass, arms still spread invitingly, the now lukewarm water splashing off her head and shoulders. "I'm ready," she whispered. "What did you say?" "Piss on me, treat me like the slut my real Daddy says I am. Baptize me into your sick kinky family. Clearly you won't be satisfied with less." Her surrender was complete. That demand was just what my bladder needed to overcome my prostate in the war for my urethra. I held my hose in my hand and directed a strong spray at Princess, bright sunflower coloured liquid arcing through the air. The lead edge of the flow caught Princess in the forehead, and ran down her nose. I noted that she stuck her tongue out to sample my offering as I stepped closer to the tub, redirecting my flow onto her hair, where it ran down in rivulets onto her shoulders. Princess raised her arms, turning her palms up and cupping those delicious looking mounds on her chest. I understood what she wanted, and shifted my aim so that my piss struck her chest, running down to coat the slopes of each tit, tiny drops dangling from each nipple until she flicked them off with a red tipped finger, only to have them replicated again and again. I knew my bladder would soon be empty and I knew that this christening was not yet complete. "Open your mouth," I directed, stepping right to the edge of the tub. I reached out and shut off the water before it chilled Princess and spoiled this impossible perfect moment. Princess tilted her head back slightly, arching her neck and back, offering me a fresh and exciting view of how her tits defied gravity. She also opened her jaw wide. I could not help thinking that I was right, my cock would fit perfectly in that mouth. My balls grew taut to my taint, ready to pump out great gobs of goo in appreciation of that thought, but my bladder was not yet ready to relinquish control. Princess extended her tongue, laying it flat along her lower lip, just the rounded end reaching her skin. Her mouth was wide open, her head tilted perfectly for my stream to flood her throat. I aimed carefully, painting the whole surface of her pink tongue as well as massaging her tonsils. Her throat muscles visibly throbbed, working to swallow the nectar. Even the best things cannot last forever, and soon my volume started to flag, and I leaned over the tub, my free hand grabbing the shower rod for balance. Princess rose up off her haunches, still kneeling, but her mouth reaching toward me like a baby bird greedily seeking food from its mother. She gulped down my final spurt and then ran her tongue around her glistening lips. As my abdominals relaxed, my bladder empty, I noticed how hard her nipples had become. She must have noticed my eyes moving, because she rolled her fingers again along those nubs, which were still moist with my urine. She raised each finger to her mouth and slowly licked them clean, sucking them into her cheeks like they were miniature cocks and rolling them with her tongue as if she was licking a lollipop. Princess grinned up at me as she finished grooming herself, her fingers again falling to lightly fondle her own nipples. I watched her eyes travel from my face downward. "It's dripping," she moaned. "Normally I shake that off." "I want to lick it off." We moved together, me leaning forward, Princess raising up, her hand reaching to grasp my shaft, her fingers curling around mine. She lifted my prick until it was a bit more than perpendicular with the floor, gently, not dislodging that droplet. Her breath was warm against my groin. I felt my balls tighten further, ready to assert their need for release now that my bladder was done. Princess flicked her tongue under my tip, her flesh barely grazing the tender flap of skin that tied helmet to shaft. I felt the lightness as the moisture was licked away. She leaned her head back, but did not release her grip on my cock. Instead, her hand moved slightly, stroking it, but almost like it was instinct or accident, rather than intentional. "It really IS delicious," she grinned up at me, her teeth shining with my contribution. My cock throbbed in her fist, thinking with a mind of its own. "Oh, poor thing, swelling like that. My boyfriend says it's unhealthy for a guy to go around with a hard cock without relief." Princess giggled. I guessed that her normally bitchy personality would reappear to balance against the taboo pleasure we had just shared. "I don't really believe him. I think it is just an excuse for him to get me to give him a hand job, or a blow job, or even to fuck him. What he doesn't get is that I really like to do those things. I love his cock. Maybe I just love cock." Her eyes were dreamy. No bitchiness at all. Her hand continued pumping my organ, as it gradually filled, this time with blood not urine. "I hate the thought of you having to go jerk off to relieve yourself," she continued, "knowing that you will be imagining my tits, my ass, my mouth. I bet you'd like to fuck me. I bet you'd love to fuck my tits. I bet you wonder if my ass is virgin." Her mouth was again near the tip of my penis. I had to fight a strong urge to just grab her hair and shove my fully engorged member straight deep into her throat. That was a move I had imagined many times, when she had been teasing me. My restraint was rewarded as her tongue again teased my slit. "Mmmm - tastes different - a salty sweetness," she giggled. "Oh, I know- it's precum! You want to blow a wad right in my mouth." Princess shrugged then giggled again. "I guess it would wash the pee taste off my tongue." Without another sound, she grinned, opened wide and took my full length deep into her throat in a single forward motion of her head. I had dreamed of this many times, but the reality was a thousand times better. Her mouth was warm, wet, velvety around my cock. Her tongue was talented, toying with the bottom and sides of the shaft as she started bobbing along the length, curling the tip of that tongue around the edge of my helmet as she almost but not quite released me from her hungry lips, only to suck me deep again. Her mother was an indifferent cocksucker at the best of times, but Princess was the best I had ever experienced. She seemed to never stop the endless variations of tonguing as her fingers first teased, and then fondled and then milked my scrotum. I wish I could say that my maturity allowed me to prolong the moment, but when I look back on it, as I often do, I realize that it now seems longer than it was, because I replay it in my mind in slow motion. The reality is that Princess, barely 18, was such a skilled cocksucker that I came almost immediately, just like one of her high school conquests, my seed rushing forth out of my balls, surging up my shaft, exploding in a gush out of my slit into her mouth, coating her tongue, painting her perfect teeth. Princess proved to be no shrinking violet after the payoff, either, swallowing the initial spurt and continuing to pump my shaft until she had fully emptied my organ, my deflated balls once again dangling relaxed in their sack. Princess then leaned her head back, beaming up at me with what seemed an odd mixture of command and desire for a compliment. My sperm gleamed on her teeth, a single strand connecting them to that pendulous lip which had entranced me for so long. Her eyes were dancing. Silently, she bent toward me again, tongue flitting out to capture the final morsel that dangled from the tip of my cock like my urine had moments earlier. "Mmm, good to the last drop," she sighed as she released my cock from her hand. "Now, do you think you can pass me a towel like a good boy?" Princess & The Pirates In the sheltered cove the two landing boats touched the sand at the same time, about a hundred yards apart. Although the two pirate crews had met to trade, they still regarded each other warily. The landing parties approached slowly, watching for signs of betrayal. Still, the men were reasonably confident, as confident as anyone could be when dealing with thieving scum. These two ships had met on this Caribbean island many times before, and the transactions had always been mutually satisfactory. The leaders of each party talked for a while, showed each other their wares, and agreements were reached. Finally, the Spaniard said, "We have something else. Something we know your Captain is fond of." "All right, let's see," answered the First Mate of the French brigand. The Spaniard raised his hand and a crewman approached from the rowboat carrying a sack. What could this be, the Frenchman thought? Too big for treasure - maybe a hundredweight of fresh fruit? He reached the trading party and placed the sack on the ground. Untying the cord he turned it over and pulled away the dirty canvas. On the sand sat a beautiful woman of about twenty years. She was dressed in the gown of a young Spanish lady, obviously one of some wealth. She squinted in the sunlight, blinking while her eyes adjusted from the darkness of the sack. The French pirate knew Captain Renoir would be pleased, but he hid his eagerness in order to improve his bargaining position. "Well, I suppose she might be worth something. If your men haven't ruined her!" "Untouched," the Spaniard assured him. "I swear we have kept her away from all the men. There were plenty of other women in the captured ship for our pleasure. This one was so fine we saved her for a trade." Jean-Pierre knew his Captain liked them with their spirit unbroken. He preferred that happy task himself. A price was agreed upon and the men shared a drink of rum to end their trading session. Isabella Theresa Alonzo de la Vega, beautiful young Spanish noblewoman, was now the property of the French pirate ship "The Golden Sword". Back at the ship the French Captain greeted the precious cargo with appreciation. She stood on the deck, averting her eyes as he walked around her and took in her lovely features. As he moved, his gold earring sparkled in the sunlight. She was petite, no more than a couple of inches over five feet, with a slender waist, ample breasts and full hips. The young aristocrat seemed tiny next to the hulking pirates. "This one is very special. I shall keep her in my cabin," he said to his First Mate. Suddenly the beauty looked up at the Captain, defiance flashing in her dark eyes. "Never!" she spat. "I will never give myself to you, pig!" "Wonderful!" The Captain grinned. "Filled with Spanish spirit, like a true thoroughbred!" "Pig! Dog!" she yelled at him. "The King will hang you all!" A burst of laughter from the crew told her that these men did not fear the Spanish crown. "You do not wish to be my personal companion?" mocked the Captain. He was handsome in a rough way, with long hair and a goatee beard. Her cold stare was his answer. "Fine. But I assure you that by the time we are finished you will beg me to take you." "Never! I will die first!" "That will not be necessary. You will change your mind long before that." Although she was outwardly defiant, her confidence was beginning to waiver. What torture did he have in mind for her? Would they whip her? She had never suffered real hardship, and could only hope her resolve would remain unbroken. Educated in a convent, she had been raised with images of martyrs suffering horrible tortures for their faith. Since she was a girl she had imagined that if called upon to do so, she too would remain faithful to the end. She was determined to endure any torture for her virtue. But there was one more possibility. "The king will pay handsomely for my safe return," she said, trying to keep a note of pleading out of her voice. Captain Renoir laughed, shattering her last hope. "I have a ship full of treasure. Ransom means nothing to me. You are the treasure I seek." He stepped back and the First Mate came forward. Grabbing her slender wrists he quickly tied a piece of rope around them and secured it to a black iron ring above her head on the mast. The crew was silent as they stared at the bound woman. Her eyes were clenched tightly shut as she avoided their hungry gazes. The Mate pulled a dagger from his belt and began to cut her elegant brocade gown away from her trembling body. In minutes she stood before them in her corset and pantaloons, shame flushing her face crimson. The mounds of her generous bosom bulged from the tight corset. Reaching to her head he pulled out the ivory comb that held her long black hair in a knot. The radiant tresses tumble free, shiny and thick. With both her hands bound to a single ring, the Mate easily turned her around so her face was to the mast. The crew looked at her straight back, criss-crossed with the laces of her corset. The Mate pulled his cutlass and slowly, gently inserted the sharp blade up her back under the tight laces. As the cold steel slid along her smooth skin she shuddered and a soft whimper escaped her throat. With a single jerk of his arm the razor-sharp sword sliced through the laces and her corset fell to the deck. She was bare from the waist up; her perfect smooth back exposed to the crew. What now? she thought. Is he going to whip me? If he does I will not cry out. Holy Mary please give me strength! She was grateful that her back was to the men, hiding her bare breasts. But even that small consolation was short-lived. The Mate grabbed her arm and spun her around, and suddenly she was facing the evil pirate crew, her perfect, proud breasts completely exposed to their stares. She heard gasps of appreciation from within the crowd, but she kept her eyes clenched shut, unable to look at them. Against her will, her smooth pink areolas had begun to pucker, and her nipples were hardening. Oh, God, no, she thought. Don't let them see my nipples getting hard! It's just the cool air, she lied to herself. The Mate looked down at the snowy mounds of flesh and grinned. "What's this?" the Captain mocked. "Her nipples are getting hard. Is it possible our proud beauty is actually becoming aroused?" With that he reached out and grasped one of the sensitive nubs between his thumb and forefinger. She gasped, and her knees sagged, pulling on the rope securing her wrists to the iron ring. He rolled the tip of her breast between his fingers, as if judging a piece of fine silk. "Bring the brazier," he ordered. "And put the branding irons in the coals." Her eyes shot open wide at the words, and she was looking directly into the cruel eyes of the Captain. Oh, Jesus, no. They can't do that, please don't let them do that! "That will be for later, my dear. If it is necessary." His threat gave her hope that she could avoid the searing pain of the branding iron. Now the Mate took out his dagger again and began to slice away her pantaloons. The final piece of her dignity would soon be gone. As he yanked away the shreds of white linen her ivory thighs were bared. She squeezed her knees tightly together, hoping to protect her sex. The men stared at the silken fur of her mound, many beginning to breathe more rapidly. The gorgeous captive, bound and completely naked before them except for her high-heeled shoes, was a profoundly stimulating sight. Captain Renoir reached down and forced his hand between her thighs. Though she pressed them together with all her might, he pushed them open as easily as parting a silken curtain. She was trembling like a frightened bird, but whether from fear or from arousal he couldn't tell. He knew that once in a great while they were fortunate enough to acquire a female captive who was unable to keep from becoming aroused by her captivity. Years of sheltered denial and thoughts of suffering martyrs sometimes produced a woman who secretly craved the humiliation of being sexually tormented in front of the crew. And if this was such a woman, she was certainly the most beautiful one he had seen. The final proof was only inches away. Sliding his hand up the silken skin of her inner thigh, he approached her sex. She was whimpering now, pleading with him. "Please, no. Oh please don't! I beg you, sir, have mercy. I am a virgin." He ignored her pleas, and his rough hand reached the junction of her thighs. He cupped her sex and she cried out. He pressed, and his finger slipped along the tight furrow. He had his proof. The haughty Spanish virgin was betrayed by the soaking wetness of her cleft. Withdrawing his hand, still staring into her eyes, he reached back and held his hand up for them to see. As the men saw the dew on his fingers glistening in the Caribbean sunlight, a mighty cheer rose from the pirate crew. Tears rolled down the cheeks of the vanquished beauty and fell onto the glistening swells of her naked breasts. The First Mate untied her hands from the ring and lifted her easily, carrying her to a nearby hatch cover that could serve as a platform. Placing the squirming young woman on the surface he gestured to several crew to grab her wrists and ankles and hold her down. They pulled her legs apart, revealing her glistening slit to the staring pirates. Her sex was covered with fine silky dark hair, and the tight crack was shiny with her juices. Hanging from his belt was a leather pouch and a long wide leather strap. He withdrew an ivory-handled razor from the pouch and opened the blade. With expert strokes he sharpened the blade on the strap. When the captive girl heard the sound she looked up, saw the blade sparkling in the sun and gasped, "Dear Jesus, what are you going to do?" Jean-Pierre bent over the girl and pinched a clump of her pubic fur in his thumb and forefinger. "Don't move, my dear, or you may get cut." Isabella froze in fear as her used the razor to slice away the clump of hair. He continued to cut away her hair until her mound and pussy lips were covered only by short stubble. He then sharpened the blade on the strap again and reached for a shaving mug and brush. Whipping up a lather he spread it over her virgin pussy, taking extra time to stroke the soft brush up and down her slit. A barely audible moan escaped her lips. He then used the razor to expertly shave the last of the pubic hair from the darling girl. Wiping away the last of the lather with some shreds of her pantaloons, he stepped back to admire his work. Her beautiful young pussy was completely bare and smooth. Her sex was fully exposed to the stares of the men, without even her hair to provide modesty. Jean-Pierre gestured to one of the crew, who then carried over a device like a wooden sawhorse used by the ship's carpenter. On this one, however, the long bar that connected the legs was covered in padded leather. They lifted the shaved girl and lowered her onto the device lengthwise, so that she was straddling the bar. Her feet just reached the ground, so that she was forced to stand on her toes in her high-heeled shoes. This raised her bottom so that it was high in the air and her back was arched like a cat. Her firm breasts hung down on either side of the bar. He grasped her wrists and tied each one to a wooden leg. Her tear-stained cheek rested on the leather-covered bar. The pirate then lifted the frame with the bound beauty and positioned it so that her raised behind was facing the gathered crew. Sounds of whimpering were heard as she protested weakly. The Captain ran his hands over her perfect ass-cheeks, and he felt a shudder pass through her body. Gently he pulled the globes apart, opening her up to the stares of the lusting pirate crew. He pulled harder, and the lips of her hairless virgin sex parted to reveal the glistening furrow within. It was soaking wet, filled with the copious flow from her aroused pussy. "Take a good look, men. Our little beauty may protest, but her pussy tells the truth!" "No, please! I can't help it! I don't want you to touch me. Please don't, I beg you, please let me be!" She twisted her head, and was able to look back at the crew. When she saw the hungry stares of more than a score of ruthless men she groaned in shame and defeat. Her most private secret place was opened to their gazes, and they could see that she was dripping wet. The inner membranes glistened, and they could see the delicate little bump of her sweet clit, sheltered in its pink hood. The entrance to her vagina was spread open, the hole barely protected by the fragile petal of her virgin hymen. As the pathetic moan escaped her full, red lips, they saw a trickle of her cream escape the secret depths of her vagina and run down the exposed flesh to drip from her twitching clit. Captain Renoir reached for the shimmering droplet as it hung from her open pussy and caught it on his finger. He then lightly touched the wet flesh and slid his finger up the furrow, spreading the slippery juice over her hairless lips. No man had ever touched her there, and she could not stop the low moan that issued from deep in her heaving chest. He slid around in the wetness, brushing over her tiny pee-hole and finally touching her screaming clit. Her whole body jerked as if shocked when he touched her clit, and she groaned again. His finger skated over the virgin pussy-hole, and then spread the wetness up to the tiny crinkled bud of her asshole. A sudden gasp from the lovely virgin testified to the shock and surprise she felt at having him touch her rear hole. "Oh, no, sir! I beg you, you must not touch me there!" she cried. Renoir ignored her pleas and gently ran his finger back and forth from her tiny anus to her twitching clit, spreading her sweet pussy flow along her slit and between her rounded ass-cheeks. Her pussy had become swollen and red, the lips parting wide and the inner petals blossoming open. A ribbon of feminine secretion ran from her tight hole, over her throbbing clit and collected in a viscous puddle on the leather of the bondage device. He dipped his finger in the puddle and carried the juice up to her tiny, tight anal pucker. He deposited it on the crinkled rosebud, and repeated the process several times, until her asshole was thickly coated with her pussy cream. He then rubbed his thick finger against the clenched opening, causing her to moan and cry out. He pressed forward, but her ass was too tight to admit his finger. He rubbed her slit some more, prodding and pummeling her tiny clitoris to arouse her and relax her ass. She was moaning continuously now, unable to hide her growing passion. Once more her pressed his finger against her asshole, and this time it slowly began to yield, the tip of his finger entering her darkest nether opening. "No…please…not there…it is a sin…oooohhhhhh…aahhhhhhhh…please stop…mmmmmmmm…oohhh YES!…NO…NO…I MEAN NOOOO!!!" Slowly his finger slid in, aided by the lubrication of her own juices. He waited for her anal muscles to relax, and then slid more of his finger up her tight ass. Finally her snug ass tunnel was squeezing several inches of his finger. He started to move it out, causing her to cry out, then slid it back in. As her tiny anus began to adjust to the intrusion, he sawed the finger in and out in a steady rhythm, finger-fucking the captive virgin beauty in the ass. She continued moaning, getting louder and no longer caring who could hear. Suddenly her hips began to move in little circles. She shoved back on the finger, using her toes for leverage. "By the balls of Satan," exclaimed one pirate, "she likes it!" "Look at the little harlot fuck back!" "NO…NO…NO…it's not my fault! I can't help it! Please stop, please!" she cried. But all the while that she was protesting, she was rotating her hips and shoving her ass back to meet the invading finger. Renoir rubbed his finger along the slick, smooth lining of her rectum, electrifying her nervous system. With his other hand he reached for a hanging breast and pinched the long hard nipple between thumb and forefinger, pulling on the breast tip. He withdrew his finger, and the bound captive girl wiggled her ass to urge him back. Little whimpering pleas escaped her full red lips. But he did not neglect her for long, as his fingers returned to stroke her hairless open pussy lips, rubbing the juice along her crack and probing the entrance to her virgin pussy. He pressed against the fragile membrane that guarded her virtue, but by now she was so aroused that she no longer feared the loss of her precious maidenhead. To distract her, he pinched her nipple harder and twisted her breast tip, and as the crew of brutal pirates watched intently, Captain Renoir quickly thrust his finger forward, deflowering the sweet princess in an instant. She let out a sudden gasp as the moment of pain got her attention, but it passed quickly as her uncontrollable lust washed over her. His thick finger was inside her virgin tunnel, and she loved the sensation. He twisted it around, loosening her up and stimulating the young woman. For a brief instant she realized that she was no longer a virgin, but she had ceased to care some time ago. She was so aroused by her helplessness, by her naked exposure to the stares of these evil men, that she only wanted to be used and degraded. While he finger-fucked the bound virgin, he loosened his pants with the other hand. As the Captain moved to her head he nodded to another pirate, Jacques, who took over fingering the girl's heated slit. Renoir withdrew his large erect cock and held it in front of her face, and her eyes widened at the site. She had never seen a man's penis before, erect or not. Although she had imagined it, this was many times larger than anything she had dreamt of. She stared, mesmerized by the pulsating organ. Clear fluid was leaking from the hole, dripping off the end and collecting around the collar of his foreskin. Rather than be sickened by the sight, she was fascinated by it. She found herself wondering what it would taste like, how it would feel in her mouth. "My God, what is wrong with me? Have I become a whore?" she thought. Realizing that she would never return to her life as a princess, that she was going to be used in every filthy way by these outlaws and would become the crew's woman, she thought that in a sense she was a whore now. And aren't whores woman who enjoy carnal pleasures, who yearn for a man's hard organ? This is what she had been taught by the nuns. The very hopelessness of her situation added to her arousal. The fact that she had no choice, that this was being forced on her somehow gave her the freedom to surrender to her lust. Unable to stop herself, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, reaching for the dripping organ. She heard laughs of derision from the crew. "Look, the little slut wants his cock!" "She wants to suck it, the whore!" "Captain, give the wench what she wants! Stick it in her mouth!" Renoir moved closer, so that his cock was inches from the straining tongue. He let her have just a quick lick and pulled away. The brief taste of musky man meat was like a drug to the innocent girl. The taste of his pre-cum assaulted her tongue and she thrust it out and wiggled it, begging for more. He continued to tease her, letting her taste it and then pulling away. Meanwhile her pussy was melting around the other man's finger, and she finally snapped, losing all control. "Please, I beg of you, sir! Put it in my mouth. Let me suck it, let me taste your member!" "You mean my cock? Then say it! Beg me to FUCK you in the mouth with my COCK!" "Please, I cannot. I have never said such words! Just let me, please!" "Sorry, my dear, not unless you ask the right way!" A moment passed while she resisted, but it was useless. Finally she cried out,