5 comments/ 99809 views/ 29 favorites Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 01 By: Hamilton_g One: Aboard the Roi de Soleil Captain Beaumont of the French ship Roi du Soleil lifted the crystal goblet of wine and stood as he proposed a toast. "To a safe journey home, and to our lovely guest," he offered to the ship's officers assembled around the sumptuous dining table. "A lovelier ray of sunshine has never graced our humble ship." He bowed his head in the direction of the Duchess de Montfort. She was indeed a stunningly beautiful woman. No doubt that fact explained at least in part her popularity in the court at Versailles. Her features were delicate and aristocratic, with striking green eyes and silken light auburn hair. Her lips were full and gave her mouth the appearance of a slight pout. Her alabaster skin was smooth and unblemished, at least in part a result of her unusual habit of bathing frequently, and she eschewed the heavy make-up favored by other women at court who were not similarly blessed with perfect complexions. The tightly corseted mounds of her splendid bosom were barely contained within the bodice of her elegant gown, a sight that surely enhanced the spell under which she charmed the gathering. She acknowledged the captain's compliment with a polite inclination of her pretty head as the officers stood and raised their glasses to her. "I must say we are all most impressed with your bravery and grace in undertaking this voyage, Madame," Beaumont continued after the men resumed their seats. "Not many women would have the courage you have shown." "Merci, Capitaine," the Lady replied. "I have always wanted to visit my holdings in the New World, and when you offered your ship to me and my entourage I was pleased to accept. It has been a most enlightening journey. I had the greatest confidence in your assurance that we were in no danger from buccaneers on this voyage, and you have proved true to your word." As they spoke the first course of the meal, turtle soup, was placed before them. "Precisely, Madame. Those dogs would not dare to attack a ship of this size and armament. We could sink any of their meager vessels in a trice," the dauntless captain boasted. "Well, it would be only what the animals deserve," she said. "Hanging is too good for them. I have heard that they commit unspeakable acts on their victims. I understand that you have brought more than your share of the beasts to the gallows." "Madame is too kind, but I do admit to having made some small contribution to the safety of these seas," he replied. In fact he had brought a couple of minor captured pirates to justice, but the stories of his exploits had become somewhat embellished by the time they traveled back to France and circulated around the court. Beaumont had certainly done nothing to disabuse people of their grandiose impressions, which made him quite popular with the ladies of the French nobility. Beaumont had had his sights set on the Duchess de Montfort since her husband, the Duke, had died in a riding accident les than two years earlier. Lady Therese du Maurier had been eighteen years old when she married the Duke de Montfort, a wealthy and powerful man of fifty-six. They had only been married for four months and had barely consummated their marriage when he met his untimely end. After a dutiful year in mourning she had emerged as a bright star at Versailles. The ease with which she had made the transition from newly grieving young widow to a center of attention at court caused a considerable amount of gossip among the nobility. Of course, gossip and intrigue were the lifeblood of the court at Versailles, and envy of her wealth as well as her beauty undoubtedly fueled the rumors. But she was, in fact, self-centered and ambitious, planning to increase her fortune while strengthening her influence at court. The highest ranking of the aristocracy had been pursuing her assiduously since her return from mourning, but she was considered to be haughty and unapproachable. The spoiled princess manipulated her suitors shamelessly, and discarded the undeserving like a soiled handkerchief. Attracted by her fortune and her looks, Beaumont believed he could succeed where the less worthy had failed. His reputation as a dashing sea captain and pursuer of buccaneers made him the envy of men and the object of female ardor. As the plates were removed and the next course was served, the Duchess de Montfort remarked, "My compliments on your cook. Are all of the King's navy so well provisioned?" "Sadly, no, Madame. We obtained this man as a matter of the purest luck," he said, indicating the fellow carrying one of the trays of plates. "At our last port of call our cook went ashore for provisions and never returned. Whether that was the result of rum or foul play I cannot say. But further evidence of the fact that the good Lord favors the French came in the form of this man, who presented himself at the dock and inquired as to whether we might have a berth for an honest cook. Since we were to sail within the hour we gladly took him aboard. I'm pleased you find his work satisfactory." "Indeed, quite so," the Lady said. "Could you have him come over?" "Mais oui, Madame," replied the Captain. "You, Cook, come here. The Duchess wishes to speak with you," Beaumont ordered. "A votre service, mon Capitaine," the man responded as he quickly obeyed. The Duchess regarded the tall, handsome man and commented, "He doesn't look much like a cook. All my cooks are red-faced and fat." "It must be the life at sea," the Captain chuckled. "How long have you been a cook, fellow?" she asked. "Since I were but a boy, yer Ladyship," he said, bowing as he spoke. "Well, the food is satisfactory," she offered, "so far." "Thank you most kindly, your Ladyship," he bowed again. Having finished with him, she returned to her plate without further comment. The Captain took the hint. "You're dismissed, Cook," he ordered. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," the cook backed away, bowing again. "There's something odd about that fellow," the Duchess remarked, "but his cooking is worthy." Resuming their conversation about the activities of the sea rovers in the Caribbean she prompted, "Tell me about your perilous battles with the pirates, Captain." "Oh, no, Madame, modesty forbids. I am only doing my duty," he demurred. "Well, is it true then, what they say about the horrors to which their captives are subjected?" "They are indeed cruel brutes, Madame. I'm afraid the account of their vile acts would be much too shocking for your delicate sensibilities," the Captain warned. "Have you ever heard of the buccaneer Antoine Renoir, Captain?" she asked. "It is said he is particularly diabolical in his treatment of female prisoners. And I've heard he is quite a formidable maitre des armes." "Well, I don't know about his swordsmanship, but most of the tales of pirate exploits are highly exaggerated, Madame. My guess is that if this Renoir exists at all he is probably a filthy brute who has merely benefited from bonne chance so far. When his luck runs out he will end up on the gallows like all the rest." "Well, as I said, hanging is too good for them. I dare say they deserve to be drawn and quartered," she said. The Captain thought he detected a note of eagerness in her tone when she said 'drawn and quartered'. She added, "Perhaps we shall see Captain Renoir or some of the other beasts on this voyage, and have an opportunity to watch you dispatch them to the bottom of the sea." In fact, the Captain hoped the opportunity would not present itself. Although his ship was indeed much larger than any pirate sloop and more heavily armed, he knew that victory was never assured. In any case, his own experience in direct combat with pirates was non-existent, and he preferred to leave it that way. "Although I welcome any chance to sweep these outlaws from the seas, your Ladyship's safety is my only concern on this voyage. Let's hope we do not see Renoir or any other pirates near this ship." If Beaumont and the Duchess had been paying attention to the cook as he placed dessert on the table, they might have noticed the faintest smile tug at the corners of his cruel lips. "Ah, chocolate," remarked the captain as he lifted his spoon, "one of the many treasures the New World has to offer." Some of the other treasures the New World had to offer were exotic herbs from which the voodoo women on Hispanola prepared potent drugs. The chocolate dessert contained such a drug, which the cook had also placed in the stew he prepared for the rest of the crew. Within an hour everyone on the Roi du Soleil was in a deep sleep, where they would remain for twelve hours. After checking the ship to make certain that all the crew were asleep, the cook, who was also known as Captain Antoine Renoir of the pirate ship The Golden Sword, went on deck and swung a lantern over his head to signal his crew. As he waited for his ship to slip out of the darkness, he lighted lanterns along the deck to guide them. When the smaller pirate ship came alongside, he dropped lines to the waiting crew, who secured the ships together. As the first mate climbed aboard the French vessel he greeted Renoir. "Good work, mon ami. It is ours, and without a shot fired," said Jean-Pierre. "I told you it could be done. You owe me a tankard!" "Gladly, old friend." Over the next hour the buccaneers transferred everything of value to the Golden Sword. The cargo included several chests of treasure containing silver pieces of eight and gold doubloons, pearls, emeralds and topazes, as well as many barrels of rum, tobacco and cocoa. As they prepared to free the lines and leave the plundered vessel in the night, Renoir said to Jean-Pierre, "One more bit of treasure to take, and then we are off." He moved quickly along the corridor to the suite of cabins that housed the aristocrat and her servants. Pushing open the door he found the Duchess and her ladies-in-waiting lying unconscious around the room. A tub with water in it indicated that the noblewoman had recently finished a bath. Renoir shook his head in scorn for the extravagance of a freshwater bath onboard ship. The Lady was lying across her bed, where she had collapsed when the sleeping draught had taken hold. She was dressed in a long-sleeved velvet sleeping gown for protection against the chill of the night air, and her hair had been brushed and put up with combs. The buccaneer lifted the unconscious beauty and threw her over his shoulder. As he carried her up on deck he could feel her warmth through the nightdress and his nostrils filled with the scent of her body fresh from the perfumed bath. "What have we here, Captain?" Jean-Pierre asked with relish. "A little prize for our diversion, my friend. It will be amusing to tame this green-eyed cat." He lowered the sleeping Lady over the side to waiting hands and climbed after her. A few hours later the Golden Sword put into the hidden cove on Tortuga and its cargo was unloaded. Therese du Maurier, the Duchess de Montfort, was locked in a small cottage in the pirate compound and left to recover from the sleeping potion while Renoir and the raiders got some much-needed sleep. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 01 "I implore you, sir, reconsider what you intend to do with me." Ignoring her entreaties, he reached up and unlocked the shackles that bound her arms. Grasping both her wrists in one of his strong hands he held her arms behind her back and stroked her hair, then bent to kiss her. As his lips approached hers she suddenly snapped at him with her teeth, attempting to bite him. But he was quicker than she was, and pulled back before she could sink her teeth into his face. "Careful Captain," Jacques laughed, "the cat has teeth." Jean-Pierre stepped up with a length of rope, and while she squirmed and struggled he pushed the long sleeves of her green velvet sleeping dress up and tied her arms behind her back with her wrists crossed. This pulled her shoulders back and thrust her chest forward, causing the fitted bodice of her gown to stretch tightly across her generous bosom. Then he kissed the nape of her lovely neck and shoved her toward Captain Renoir, who caught her as she stumbled against him. "Hand me your dagger, Jacques," he said, as he held her around her slender waist. She stared at the large knife as Jacques pulled it from his belt and handed it to Renoir. What was he going to do? Was he going to cut her? But no, he used the dagger to make small cuts in the sleeping gown. What was he doing, she wondered? He cut slits around the top of the skirt, at her shoulders and around the bodice before handing the knife back to Jacques. The slits breached the green velvet of the outer gown, but did not go through the white linen underdress she wore against her skin. Holding the puzzled princess by the upper arm, he grasped a fold of the dress near her waist and shoved her back toward Jean-Pierre. As she stumbled forward the fabric ripped, leaving Renoir holding a piece of green velvet as Jean-Pierre caught her. A long white strip of her underdress showed through the ruined gown. "No, please, please. Please don't touch me, please I beg you, don't do this!" she pleaded, her noble demeanor crumbling. Now Jean-Pierre grabbed a sleeve and shoved her to Jacques, who caught her as the sleeve parted from her dress. Jacques ripped a piece from the back as Edmond, the large African, received the frightened plaything. Edmond tore another large piece from the skirt as he passed her along. Slowly the dress was demolished and her linen underdress was uncovered. Renoir received the crying girl again and torn the entire front of the velvet bodice off with one pull, exposing the bosom of her underdress with her breasts thrust forward against the taught white linen. The men could now clearly see the hard nubs of her stiff nipples pushing at the front of her undergarment. The large fire had made the room warm, so there was no chill in the air. Was this a sign of arousal? How lucky they were if this turned out to be one of those rare women who cannot resist becoming stimulated by their little game of domination. Renoir had suspected she might be such a prize from watching her conversation with Captain Beaumont. She had been just a little too fascinated by the subject of pirates, especially her interest in the supposed atrocities committed upon their victims. Now she would have a chance to learn about those atrocities first hand. Jacques pulled away the final shreds of velvet, leaving the young beauty clad only in her thin underdress. All the combs had now come out of her hair. With her long tresses loose and disheveled and her arms bound behind her she looked like a cornered animal as she glared at the brutes who surrounded her. Jacques moved towards her and she backed away right into the grasp of Renoir. She gasped as he gathered the white linen bodice in his fist and pulled, ripping away the front of her underdress and finally exposing her naked breasts to the hungry stares of his comrades. Several of them made sounds of appreciation at the sight of the trembling globes. They were firm and slightly conical toward the tips, with raised and puffy pink aureoles, which were rapidly puckering under the men's stares. She wanted to cover her breasts, to hide her long, stiff nipples from their eyes, but her hands were bound behind her and the men were all around. "Oh God, please! Have mercy. Spare me, spare me!" the bare-breasted aristocrat begged. Renoir cupped one of the silken mounds in his big hand and hefted it as if judging the weight. He stroked the soft skin and brushed his fingers lightly over her erect nipples. She shuddered at the unwelcome touch and cried, "Oooh noo! No, please don't touch me!" His response was to grasp the tip of her breast and roll the tender flesh between his thumb and forefinger. She cried out and he grabbed her around the waist as she sagged at the knees. He continued to torment her nipple, twisting and pulling the sensitive nub. Then he turned his attention to the other nipple, pinching and twisting it mercilessly. "Stop! Stop! Oh dear Mother-of-God don't do this!" she moaned. He passed her to Jacques, who similarly amused himself by squeezing her breasts and pulling cruelly on her nipples. She was passed around the room, allowing all eight of the buccaneers a chance to abuse her breasts and fondle her full round bottom-cheeks through the linen skirt. The villains held her squirming body against theirs, her soft breasts pressed against the hard muscles of their bare, tattooed chests. She averted her face as they tried to kiss her and nuzzle her graceful neck. Her nipples became red and swollen and exquisitely sensitive from the rough handling. The top half of her underdress hung in tatters, and Jacques ripped the remaining shreds away, leaving her naked from the waist up. From a nearby table Jean-Pierre picked up a thin silver chain two feet long. Attached to each end was a silver clamp with a strong spring to hold it closed. While one of the men held the sobbing girl's upper arms and pulled her shoulders back, Jean-Pierre squeezed one of the clamps and placed her nipple inside the jaws, then let it close on the tender flesh. The delicate princess screamed as the metal clamp bit into the tip of her lovely young breast. Jean-Pierre repeated the process with her other nipple, causing more screams of anguish. The men were enjoying the sight of the once haughty young aristocrat, her naked breasts adorned with a silver chain connecting her clamped nipples. Edmond grabbed the chain and tugged, pulling on her captive nipples and making her cry out deliciously. The man holding her let go of her arms and Edmond pulled on the chain, forcing her to scuttle forward to relieve the strain on her nipples. He took another step back and she followed instantly. And so he pulled the half-naked girl around the room by her nipples, the men laughing and applauding as she stumbled over the straw-covered dungeon floor, sobbing and begging him to stop. He handed off the chain to another man, who took his turn amusing his drunken friends by pulling the darling captive around the dungeon by her clamped nipples. They enjoyed this game for some time, until each pirate had led the young Duchess around by her nipple-leash, and they were ready for more fun with the sweet noblewoman. Now Jean-Pierre grabbed the chain and pulled her by her clamped nipples into the center of the circle. "Time to unwrap the rest of the treasure," he said as he unceremoniously yanked down the bottom half of her torn linen underdress. She froze in shock as she suddenly stood before them completely nude except for her silk bed slippers and the silver chain connecting her swollen nipples. There was silence in the room as the buccaneers stared at the trembling naked aristocrat, her arms still bound behind her and the remains of her dignity gathered around her ankles. Her eyes were tightly closed as she avoided the looks of the evil pirates, and she squeezed her thighs together as if to protect her sex from the hungry gazes that feasted on her exposed beauty. Her legs were long and shapely, with rounded calves and slender ankles. The ivory columns of her thighs led to full hips and a round firm bottom. The delta of her sex was covered with silky auburn fur, which was straight rather than the more usual curly hair. "By the balls of Satan, what a tasty morsel she is!" exclaimed Jean-Pierre as he approached the naked Duchess. She made no attempt to escape, but stood meekly as he drew his dagger and sliced through the ropes behind her back. Grateful for this tiny mercy she immediately tried to cover her clamped breasts with one arm and held her other hand over her mound. But her relief was short-lived as he lifted her and threw her over his shoulder with his arm holding her legs around the backs of her knees. Her long hair hung down his back and the plump lips of her sweet pussy protruded from between the backs of her clenched thighs. He patted her naked bottom, squeezing the round cheeks. But not all of the fight was gone out of Therese du Maurier yet, and she kicked her feet and pounded his muscular back with her tiny fists. As she struggled, her silk slippers went flying off her delicate feet. "Stop it, stop it! Put me down, take your hands off me, you beast!" she yelled. His response was to smack her hard on her precious bottom with his open hand, making the flesh jiggle. "Ow!" she screamed, "Stop! God will punish you," she warned, having now abandoned her earlier threats of earthly retributions. Ignoring her cries he continued slapping her behind until she went limp and stopped struggling. She was crying again, and her ass cheeks were red from the spanking. Jean-Pierre rubbed the blushing flesh, squeezing her ass and stroking the backs of her legs. The pirates noticed that she was no longer holding her thighs tightly clenched, but had relaxed and allowed them to part slightly, making her sex more visible from the back. They could see the tight slit glistening with moisture, and they knew her resistance was weakening. Jean-Pierre walked around the circle of men with the naked princess over his shoulder, presenting her bare ass for them to fondle and spank. When he came to Renoir, the Captain said, "What's this? Can it be that our pretty guest is getting moist?" he said in a mocking tone. Then he touched his finger to her wet crevice, gently sliding it along the crack and spreading the juice over her sweet labia. She tried to muster one last attempt at resistance. "Nooo, please don't! Have pity! This is wrong. You must not touch me there." But her voice was softer now, and the protests were closer to moans than to cries. Renoir continued to stroke her slit, causing the lips to part as her heat grew against her will. The inner labia were visible now, wet with arousal. At the top of the open lips her shy pink clitoris was peeking out from the wet folds of tender flesh. He brushed his finger over the tiny nubbin of pleasure, drawing gasps and a moan from the heated princess. The scent of her stimulated young pussy began to drift on the air, filling the dungeon with her musky perfume. Therese du Maurier was by nature a passionate young woman, and before her marriage she spent much time letting her thoughts wander to romantic, even sensual, dreams of dashing and dangerous young men. She felt quite guilty about these impure thoughts, and was too embarrassed even to reveal them to her confessor. She had, of course, been a virgin when she married the much-older Duke. The Duke had consummated their marriage the night of the wedding, but it had been more a matter of ceremony than one of pleasure, and had been disappointing for the young bride. In the brief time before his fatal accident they had been together in bed only two other times, both of which had been in darkness and had ended rather quickly. She had therefore never found release for her passionate urges, and had not even seen a man's penis before. "No," she thought, "I must not let this happen. I must not surrender to lust!" Renoir stroked the fur-covered outer lips of her vulva, then said to Jean-Pierre, "Did you bring your razor, mon ami?" "Of course, Capitaine, I always do," the First Mate replied, smiling. "Then would you do the honors?" "Gladly, gladly," he answered and carried the whimpering Duchess over to a long narrow table. Taking her off his shoulder he laid her down on the table, which was less than two feet wide. Her large breasts jiggled as she settled on her back, the clamps still on her nipples and the silver chain draped across the firm mounds. He pulled her hands together and wrapped a chain around her wrists, drawing her arms straight back along the table over her head. Hanging from the ceiling above the table were long black iron chains on pulleys, and Jean-Pierre pulled two of them down and wrapped one around each of her ankles. Then he pulled on another chain and her delicate feet rose in the air until her long legs were held up in a wide 'V', pulled back and spread as far apart as seemed physically possible, with her bottom near the edge of the table. She was immobilized, chained tightly before the watching pirates. Her tear-streaked cheeks blushed furiously at the shame of having her most private place thus exposed. The humiliated Duchess looked at the men standing around the table. "What are you going to do to me? Please don't hurt me!" she pleaded. With her legs spread wide and angled back, her pussy was completely open to their stares. The reddish brown hair on her mound was soft and straight, and sparsely covered the plump lips, which were parted from the forced spreading of her legs and from her growing arousal. They could clearly see her inner labia, rosy and swollen, glistening with her juices, and even the hairless pink rosebud of her tight little asshole was fully exposed to their gazes. Renoir resumed his gentle stimulation of her pussy, running his fingertips over the slick membranes, painting the wetness along her slit. His finger brushed over the sensitive little bump of her tiny clit, once again eliciting an involuntary moan from the bound princess. He spread some of her juices from the tight entrance of her vagina down to her puckered asshole, rubbing it around the snug circle of muscle. "Oh no, please don't touch me there! How could you?" she protested, but Renoir could feel her back hole rhythmically clenching, and he knew she was fighting her own desires. Renoir moved aside and Jean-Pierre stepped closer. Therese whimpered as she saw him draw his dagger and bring it close to her unprotected pussy. He pinched a small clump of her soft pubic hair between his fingers and cut it away with his knife. She was frozen with terror that he might cut her, but she remained unharmed as he proceeded to slice away her auburn fur bit by bit, until only short, uneven stubble remained. Putting the dagger away he removed a folded razor from the leather pouch on his belt and placed it on the table. He lifted a goblet containing soap, and used a shaving brush to work up a thick lather. She gasped when the brush touched her, and she was unable to suppress tiny whimpers as he spread the lather over her mound and along the lips of her pussy. And although it was not necessary, he worked the soft brush up and down her slit, stroking it repeatedly over her erect, pulsating clit until she was moaning softly. While he teased her pussy with the soapy brush, another man was tugging on the chain attached to the silver nipple clamps, sending little jolts of pleasure-pain through the ends of her firm breasts. Lifting a long leather strap attached to his belt Jean-Pierre opened the razor and stroked it along the strap to hone the edge. There was a sharp intake of breath from the Lady as he placed his hand on her flat lower belly and pulled up to tighten the skin over her mound, the motion transmitting a gentle tug to her clit. Slowly and methodically he stroked the sharp blade over her tender flesh, pulling her pussy lips this way and that as he removed the last of her pubic hair. Opening her eyes and looking around she saw the evil brutes intently observing her torment. "Oh, dear God," she thought. "They're watching him shave my sex! Is there no end to my shame?" When he finished he took a piece of her ruined linen underdress, dipped it in the fresh water bucket and wiped the remaining shaving soap from her naked pussy, taking his time rubbing the cloth over her bare cunt. The shaving had further stimulated the poor girl, and the men could see a tiny trickle of her cream leaking from the tight entrance to her vagina and running down to her hairless puckered asshole. Jean-Pierre finished his handiwork by reaching for a small flagon. He held it above her bare crotch and poured a stream of perfumed oil over her freshly shaved pussy. He then rubbed the oil over the smooth flesh, coating her mound and lips with the slippery liquid and working it into her slit and down to her anus. She was aroused almost beyond caring by now, and did not even try to suppress her moans as he spread it over her silky thighs and hips. He continued to cover her body, rubbing the fragrant fluid over the soft skin of her legs, then over her belly and up to her chest, squeezing her breasts as he oiled the firm globes and coated her clamped nipples. He then returned to rub more oil over her bald, leaking pussy. As Jean-Pierre stroked the slick oil over her body, the naked, bound and shaved noblewoman looked around to see that now all the pirates had removed their shirts and trousers and were stroking their hard cocks. Most of the men were covered with tattoos across their bare chests, and even their backs, which made them appear yet more dangerous. She was hypnotized by the sight of the stiff, throbbing erections, which were much larger than she had imagined even in her most secret reveries. She desired to touch one of them and to know what it would feel like in her hand. She even, God help her, wanted to know what it would feel like in her mouth. "No, no," she mentally screamed, "don't think about it! God will surely punish me for such impure thoughts!" But they were not in her thoughts, they were right there in front of her eyes; eight hard, throbbing pirate cocks. The feeling in her pussy was driving all reason from her lust-clouded mind. Thoughts of God, of sin, of the nuns who had admonished her about the fires of Hell, all were lost, replaced instead by the fingers on her shaved, oiled pussy, the clamps on her swollen nipples, and the wonderful hard cocks surrounding her. Jean-Pierre stood between her suspended legs. Her crotch was spread wide, shaved slick and glistening with the mixture of oil and her own wetness. She gasped when he stroked his throbbing hard-on along the backs and then the insides of her oily thighs, then over her smooth mound and along her wet outer pussy lips. The friction of his hot cock sliding over her sensitive, exposed skin was driving her insane, and she nearly passed out when he began to rub the head along her slippery slit. He rested the full length of his rod in the crevice between her labia, the underside in contact with her sensitive inner lips, and slowly moved his hips back and forth, sliding his cock along the moist slit at the center of her sex, coating it with her juices. The Duchess was whimpering loudly, moving her hips to meet the delicious friction of his hot probe as the underside of his cockhead slid over her straining clit. She expected him to enter her soon, and she prayed that God would forgive her for what she could not prevent. But Jean-Pierre did not enter her, instead he stopped the teasing stimulation of her swollen pussy and moved away, around to her side. There he continued to stroke his oil-covered cock along her outer thigh, then over the swell of her hip and along her quivering belly. He was rubbing his erect manhood all over her body, teasing her while spreading the scent of her aroused pussy over her feverish skin. At the same time another of the men began using his cock to stimulate and torment her sex, repeating the actions of Jean-Pierre. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 01 "Oh, no, now two of them are touching me with their cocks," thought the helpless, bound beauty. "What depravity will I suffer next?" Jean-Pierre was now rubbing himself on her breasts, while the other man had moved his attention from her crotch and was dragging his cock along her side. Another replaced him at her spread pussy, and so they continued. All eight of them probed and rubbed her inflamed sex with their hard dicks, repeatedly bumping her twitching clit, picking up her fluids on their cocks and then using their hard flesh to paint the musky wetness over her oiled skin. Slowly she began to feel a blurring of the distinction between what was her pussy and what was the rest of her body. With no hair remaining to define the area, with her whole body as slick and oily as her pussy, with her female scent smeared over every inch of her aroused skin and with cocks touching her everywhere, she felt as though there was no boundary. Three: The Duchess Tamed Therese looked down at her bound body, saw her own shiny legs held high in the air, saw the chain connecting her clamped nipples and the men looming over her, their throbbing erections still resting on her skin. She could not look away, and she stared at the one closest to her face, fascinated by the details of his hard dick. She studied the thick dark veins along the shaft, the round purple head with the collar of foreskin around it, and the heavy sack of balls hanging below. Philippe had been watching her stare at his cock, and he moved closer to give her a better look. Her heart leapt as he held the hard member inches from her face. She could smell the musky scent of his cock and balls, saw the tiny slit in the end where clear fluid collected. He moved closer still, until he held it over her lips. The accumulation of pre-cum grew until it was ready to drip from the end of his cock, and to the delight of the watching pirates she suddenly opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to catch the shimmering droplet as it fell. It landed right in the middle of the sweet angel's little pink tongue, and her green eyes rolled up into her head as she nearly swooned from the masculine taste filling her mouth. Philippe was still holding his erection near her face, and she stared at the throbbing head as she savored the taste of his pre-cum. She was salivating, craving the taste and feel of his hard cock in her mouth. "Put it in your mouth, your Ladyship. Suck my cock good and maybe I'll put it in your pussy." he teased. "Oh dear Blessed Virgin, please forgive me," she silently prayed. "I can't help myself!" She opened her lips wide and he slowly slid the fat cockhead into the Duchess's drooling mouth. She moaned with pleasure at the feel of a hot, velvety cock sliding over her tongue for the first time in her sheltered life. She wished she could touch it with her hands, but bound as she was she could only tighten her lips and suck. The collar of his foreskin bumped past her full lips as he slid in, and she fluttered her tongue over the head as he began fucking her in the mouth. Pre-cum oozed from the end onto her tongue, and she swallowed eagerly. As he increased the pace of the mouth-fuck, saliva and cock juice dripped from her lips and ran down her cheeks. She was sucking hard, so that when Philippe pulled his dick out of her mouth the suction caused a loud slurping noise. She held her lips open and waggled her tongue, licking the air as she invited him to continue using her mouth. "Look, the little harlot wants it in her mouth!" "Philippe, don't torture the poor girl, give her what she wants." The other seven men were still rubbing their cocks on her oily body, some of them pulling on her nipple chain and others rubbing the outside of her pussy. Now Jean-Pierre gently slipped an oily finger into her tight vagina and stirred it around inside her. He pressed it deep, hooking it behind her pubic bone and stroking the sensitive patch of nerves at the roof of her vagina. With her hands pulled straight above her head and her legs elevated in a wide 'V' her ability to move was severely limited, but the men could clearly see that her hips were starting to push back in response to the probing finger. "Look, she likes your finger, Jean-Pierre," one of the men said. "Maybe she'd like something bigger in there, eh?" Philippe laughed. Hot juices drenched Jean-Pierre's hand as he finger-fucked her tight, innocent pussy, and liquid sluicing sounds rose from between her spread, chained legs. He slid his finger from her steaming cunt and she moaned in protest. "No, don't stop. I want it inside me!" she heard herself plead, shocked at her own sinful lust. The pirate crew laughed at this further evidence of her surrender. She could not fight her feelings any longer, she only wanted to submit, to accept her fate at the hands these men. "I told you she wants something bigger," mocked one of the men. Philippe moved between her legs and slid his cockhead up and down her open pussy lips and over her clit several times. Therese was breathing hard, panting for him to put his evil pirate cock inside her tight French pussy. He placed the head at her nearly virgin hole and pressed against the tiny orifice. She lifted her head from between her chained arms and tried to look down between her legs, wanting to watch him enter her. At first her noble cunt resisted the barbarous intrusion, but soon, like the Duchess herself, it yielded, and his thick cock slid in a couple of inches as her head dropped back to the table and she closed her eyes. She let out a high-pitched sigh as she felt him enter her body, then held her breath as he pulled back slightly and slid back in deeper. He slowly moved in and out, going deeper each time, his cock coated with her slippery lust. His thrusts stretched and expanded her snug channel, and she made a little panting squeal with each stroke. He held onto her chained ankles as he pounded into her hot passage. "Our noble Lady seems to enjoy a good fucking," Jacques commented. "Eh, Philippe, how is she, mon ami?" another one asked. "Magnifique!" he grunted. "Her pussy is squeezing me like a fist!" "Well don't wear her out, she must entertain us all," Jean-Pierre laughed. Their vulgar comments increased her feeling of subjugation and only excited her more. She was being brutally fucked in front of them, her arms chained over her head and her legs in the air. They were savage and rough, the exact opposite of the effete, powdered men she had known all her life. She wanted to be used by these ruffians, to surrender to them and have them force her body to experience pleasures she only dared imagine in her most secret dreams. She tried to push back, working her pelvis and moaning, "Ah, oui! Comme ca, oui, oui!" Rough hands reached out to slide along her oily belly and squeeze her bouncing breasts. Jean-Pierre grabbed her nipple chain and tugged on the clamps, and the jolt to her nipples caused her to open her eyes suddenly. The cruel buccaneers were standing around the table, looking down at her naked spread body. She looked at their hard cocks, so close to her now, and she could not stop herself from opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue, inviting them to use her mouth. "Please, let me suck you. Put it in my mouth, I want to taste you!" she pleaded. "I cannot refuse an order from nobility, can I?" said Jacques as he placed his cockhead on her lips. She opened wide and he plunged into her mouth, feeling the heat and suction as she nearly swallowed him whole. Now she was filled at each end with rogue cock, and she was delirious with lust. Philippe's rock-hard cock shaft was rubbing against her screaming clit with each stroke, and Jacques was fucking her mouth like it was a second pussy, his fat dick bumping at the back of her throat. While the pirates fucked the darling young woman senseless, Jean-Pierre released the chains securing her arms above her head and unwrapped them from her wrists. Without a second's hesitation she wrapped her slender fingers around the wet shaft of Jacques's cock as it plunged into her mouth, stroking and pumping the rod as she sucked furiously. Her other hand cupped his balls, fondling and squeezing the heavy sack as she devoured hard pirate dick. Philippe stopped pumping and slid his cock from her squeezing passage to watch her oral performance. He held his cock at the base and slapped it against her open pussy flesh and on her clit. The cock-spanking caused her inner labia and clit to become even more engorged and the pace of her sucking became more frantic. Her enthusiastic cock-feast soon brought the inevitable result as Jacques's member suddenly swelled in her mouth and a hot geyser of cum spurted onto her wiggling tongue. Even with her limited experience she should have known what could happen, but the sudden flood still took her by surprise. Her mouth filled as the musky man-juice shot to the back of her throat and in a moment of panic she dimly wondered, "Oh God, what do I do now?" But before she had a chance to think, her reflexes took over and she swallowed the pungent pirate jizz in a great gulp. Thrilled by the scent and taste, the innocent princess continued to swallow greedily as fast as she could, but the sticky fluid filled her mouth even faster, and it spilled from her lips and ran down her chin. When Jacques pulled out of her mouth she held her lips open and stuck her tongue out as a far as she could to urge him back into her mouth, not wanting to lose any of his slippery cum. But instead of putting it back in her mouth he grabbed his own cock and aimed it directly at her open lips. Another bolt of cum shot from the end across her lips and onto her tongue. Some of it landed in her mouth, but more of it splattered across her lovely face in great white streamers. Streaks of vile pirate seed flew onto Therese's cheeks, across her noble forehead and landed in her hair. She used her fingers to rub the cum over her face, reveling in the face bath he was giving her. She was licking her hand, sucking the cum from her fingers while she looked at his softening cock, cum covering the head, hanging off in long strings, and collecting around the foreskin. Her eyes moved up to look into his face, and back to his cock, then back to his eyes again. She held her mouth open but didn't speak, silently imploring him to put his dripping rod back in her mouth. But he didn't, he just looked at her beautiful angelic wet face, her lips and chin streaked with his fresh cum, and stood there. Finally, desperate, she looked into his eyes and whispered, "Please?" and held her mouth open. "Please, what, your Ladyship?" "Don't make me beg," she pleaded. "But you must. You said you would never consent, now you must beg for it," he tormented. She hesitated, licking her lips and rolling the slippery man-juice around on her tongue, so excited by the taste but still too proud to beg. When she saw that he was not going to relent, there was only one way left for her. "Oh, God forgive me! Put it in my mouth, please. Let me lick it clean. I want your cock in my mouth. I am begging, let me have it!" she sobbed. Without answering he pushed his cum-covered cock into her lips and she eagerly took it in her wet fingers, licking it all over, using her tongue to collect the jizz from around the head and under the collar of his foreskin. She used the very tip of her tongue to probe the little cock-slit in the end, hoping to coax out more liquid treasure. They saw her throat bob as she swallowed whatever she found. When she had cleaned every morsel of jizz from his member, he pulled away. "Merci," she said softly. Now Philippe slid back into her dripping vagina and started to move in and out again. She tried to fuck back, but the chains restrained her range of motion. Jean-Pierre grabbed the control chain and lowered the shackles that held her feet in the air, uncoiling them from around her ankles. She instantly wrapped her long, oily legs around Philippe's hips and dug her heels into his buttocks. Using her feet for leverage she shoved her pelvis up to meet his thrusts, moaning as he fucked the full length of her starved pussy. Her juices ran from her stuffed hole and trickled down her ass, and she cupped her own swollen breasts, sliding her oiled fingers over the tips of her sensitive, clamped nipples. Looking to her sides she saw the raging hard-ons surrounding her, and she reached out eagerly to take a big, hot pirate dick in her hand. Her slippery fingers explored the full length of it, rubbing her thumb over the head and stroking the shaft. Her other hand slid down to the base and cupped and squeezed his heavy scrotal sack. She explored his balls, feeling each one gently, then pulled him to her and licked down the underside to the root until her eager pink tongue found his musky sack and licked it lovingly. The lust-crazed princess covered his scrotum with her sweet spit, even sucking his balls into her mouth one at a time and gently nursing on them. She wanted all their cocks, wanted them squirting their hot male seed all over her heated body, and she turned to the other side to shove another dripping penis into her mouth and suck on the head. She went back and forth, sucking any cock that came within her reach, swallowing the pre-cum that dripped onto her tongue and ran to the back of her throat. All the while, Philippe was fucking her tight pussy with hard, deep thrusts. His big cock stretched her shaved, glistening lips so that they pulled on her clit with each forward shove, and his swinging balls slapped against her juice-covered asshole. The other sweating, tattooed buccaneers took turns using the sweet young aristocrat's eager mouth as their crewmate fucked her mercilessly. "Ah, oui! C'est si bon! So good inside me. Fuck me...don't stop...fuck me!" she chanted in total surrender. The Duchess de Montfort had never experienced an orgasm before, but she knew that something wonderful was starting to happen to her body. A delicious tension was building between her thighs, making her feel like she was about to explode. Her toes curled and her legs shook as her climax broke over her like a tidal wave, sending electric shocks from her jerking clit to the back of her stuffed pussy. Spasms gripped her belly, her pussy contracted around his cock and even her tight anal muscle convulsed rhythmically. She held onto a cock in each hand and rubbed the heads on her face as the orgasm seized her. "Aahh!...aahh...oh, no...mon Dieu...mon Dieu!" she panted as she came so hard she thought she might die. Philippe continued to pump her cunt as she came, his hard cock drawing out her pleasure and pummeling the walls of her clenching tunnel. He did not allow himself to come, and the continued fucking pulled on her swollen clit and brought her straight to a second unbelievable orgasm before she had finished the first. "Look, the harlot is coming again!" one of them exclaimed. "This one is made for fucking, no?" another said. Philippe pulled his hard cock from her well-fucked pussy, still not having come himself. When Therese slowly came down from her double orgasm, she knew that she had sinned horribly by giving her consent for these filthy degenerates to have their way with her body. She was ashamed of her weakness, and yet was aroused by her complete submission and the feeling that Captain Renoir and his men owned her soul. The lovely princess was still terribly aroused and she desired to be used by them in any way they wanted, as if her total degradation could help to atone for her sin of lust. She dimly realized that in any case she would certainly have to go to confession as soon as possible. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 01 "No, don't stop. Put it back inside me, please sir!" she pleaded. "Very well, your Ladyship, as you wish," the Captain replied as he pressed the tip to the center of her crinkled ass-pucker. "What?...Wha?...no, not there! Not in my bottom, in my sex. I beg you, put it back in my pussy!" This was something that she had never imagined, even in her darkest fantasies. It was unspeakably vile to Therese, and yet she felt a dizzying thrill at the forbidden nature of the act. She still made an effort to move away, but she was restrained and could not escape as he pushed against her asshole. He waited patiently for the ring of muscle to begin to relax. Between her upraised, spread ass cheeks the men saw her anus spread slowly and admit the dildo. The figure of the praying woman was disappearing into the innocent Duchess's behind a centimeter at a time. As it entered her tight ass, the thick coating of pussy juice was deposited around the kneeling girl's stretched sphincter in a glistening ring. "No, don't do this. Please take it out! Just put it in my pussy where it belongs, please!" she begged. But the steady trickle of juices she was producing suggested that she did not find the anal intrusion as displeasing as she pretended. He worked the object around in her ass now, pushing and pulling it while twisting it at the same time. She had stopped complaining and only the lovely sound of her heavy breathing was heard as he introduced the gorgeous noblewoman to this new feeling. Her panting turned to little gasp-moans as she learned how sensitive her asshole was. "No, oh no, it feels good. Don't stop!" she gasped, loving the feeling of having her ass used like this. He continued for a short time, stretching and relaxing her ass, then slowly withdrew the object. "No, I want it. Please put it back," she urged. A second later she felt the object back against her anus, and she sighed. He rubbed the head around the loosened sphincter, but now it felt larger, and she realized it was the Captain's hard cock, not the smaller dildo. She had a moment of fear as she thought it might be too big for her virgin bottom, but the thought was quickly replaced by the thrill of anticipation for what he was about to do. He ran his cockhead around the outer rim of her asshole, picking up the ring of pussy cream that had been deposited there by the dildo. Then he pressed the lubricated plum of his cock against the whimpering princess's winking asshole and pushed forward. He had prepared her well, and the pucker yielded easily, swallowing the head as it wedged into her. The wide corona at the base of his cockhead stretched her sphincter to the maximum as it entered her ass, then the muscle snapped back behind the head as it popped inside. He held there for a minute then slowly slid his member up inside the Duchess's beautiful bottom while she whimpered and creamed. It seemed that the length of his cock was endless as it plowed into her body, but finally he was fully engulfed in the sweet Lady's tight rectum. He pulled back until the corona of his cockhead was against her sphincter from the inside, then slowly eased it out to force the muscle to stretch again. When only the very tip of his penis was being kissed by her asshole, he slid it back in again. Each time he repeated the action it forced the Duchess's anus to stretch to the maximum and then contract back, and eventually the normally tight muscle began to dilate and relax. Finally he was able to go in and out of her ass without resistance, the hole staying open even when he pulled all the way out. He withdrew his cock and moved back a few inches so that the other brutes could see the gaping hole. "Have you ever seen a woman's ass so open, eh?" remarked Jacques. "Blueblood or not, the wench has the soul of a true whore," answered Jean-Pierre. "Nooooo," the kneeling woman moaned in shame. "I am a good girl!" The pirates' hearty laughs reverberated from the stone walls of the dungeon as they mocked her claim. "A good girl who craves a cock in her behind!" laughed Edwarde. "And you do want my cock in your behind, Lady, do you not?" taunted Renoir. The Duchess hesitated as she tried to muster some dignity and refuse to answer. "Well, I guess you don't want me to put my cock back in your ass, then," he threatened. "Wait!" she exclaimed. "Please, don't go. I do want it back inside me, please." "Where?" "Dans mon cul! In my ass, damn you! I want you to put your fat cock in my ass and fuck me!" Renoir responded by shoving his hard prick back up her ass in one move. The stretched hole offered no resistance at all as it seemed to suck his dick in. He held her round asscheeks spread open so he could watch her anus swallow his dick. Therese was babbling, alternating between fragments of prayers and vulgar pleas for more, while looking back and forth from the faces to the cocks of the pirates around her. "Holy-Mary-Mother-of-God! Oh, God help me, I love it. Yes...yes...fuck me in my ass...fill me!" Renoir pounded his cock into the darling girl's forever-expanded rectum, his hips banging against the cushions of her asscheeks. Her large breasts were hanging beneath her kneeling body, swinging freely with the force of his thrusts. The leering villains could hear the sexy slapping sounds of the succulent oily globes smacking together. Watching this precious sweet angel getting ass-fucked into a delirium was a thrilling sight for the buccaneers. One came up to her face, held in the stocks and just on a level with his erect cock, and she opened her mouth without hesitation. She already knew she loved the taste of hot pirate dick, especially when it was squirting its lovely juice in her mouth. He placed the dripping head on her tongue, and she closed her lips around the shaft and sucked him in. Her tongue fluttered around the head and licked under his retracted foreskin. The strong taste of man made her dizzy as she slurped and moaned around his cock. She was salivating heavily, slobbering all over his cock until long strings of saliva and pre-cum were hanging from her chin. He fucked her in the mouth hard, shoving into her lips until his swollen cockhead banged against her throat. Even these ruffians were surprised when the French aristocrat responded to the pummeling by relaxing her throat muscles and taking the rigid fuck-pole down her throat. As his cock passed that barrier and slid deep, his sweaty balls slapped against her wet chin and her alabaster neck expanded noticeably. Now she was filled in the ass and the throat with dangerous pirate cock. "By the seed of Satan," exclaimed one of the men, "she has swallowed him whole!" "Look at her neck, how it bulges with his cock!" "What a harlot!" Therese du Maurier, Duchess de Montfort, felt the most exciting thrill as she took the pirate's prick into her throat and heard the others making rude remarks about her accomplishment. They fucked her like that for several minutes, juice gushing from her empty pussy to coat Renoir's swinging balls and run down her thighs, while saliva dripped from her chin. The man using her mouth reached under her to pinch and pull on her abused nipples. When he started to come he pulled back from her throat so that just his cockhead was in her mouth and squirted his jizz onto her tongue. She eagerly swallowed his hot seed as fast as it filled her mouth. Some leaked out of her lips and ran down her chin, but she managed to get most of it. When he pulled out of her mouth, she felt Renoir pull out of her ass at the same time. Suddenly the platform onto which she was bound was rotating, and she realized it was on rollers, as the room turned for her. In a few seconds she was facing Captain Renoir, his erect cock, straight from her ass, just inches from her sperm-slickened lips. She looked up at him, and then down at his cock. It was dripping with pre-cum and her juices, and she only hesitated a second before opening her lips and sticking out her tongue, welcoming his cock into her mouth. As it slid over her tongue she could taste her own ass on his hot dick, and it only made her wilder with insane lust. She sucked on the head, wanting his seed in her throat as she felt another man sliding his hard cock into her vagina. While he fucked her deep in her pussy, he shoved two fingers into her open asshole and twisted them around, causing her to suck harder on the cock in her mouth. She cleaned Renoir's cock thoroughly, but before she could get him to come, they rotated her again and soon she was sucking the cock from her pussy, licking her juices off it and swallowing them eagerly. Edwarde, the African, entered her well-fucked ass in one move, filling her bottom with black cock as his hanging balls slapped against the wet, hairless lips of her open pussy. Once again she took a big buccaneer cock down her throat, burying her pert little nose in his pubic hair. Edwarde picked up the slippery ivory statuette and pressed it into her empty pussy hole, filling the hot channel with the dildo/nun. The horny Duchess was now filled in all three openings, fucking and sucking like mad and moaning continuously. But they pulled out and rotated her again, the dildo still in her pussy, and she found herself sucking the black cock from her ass as she felt Renoir shove his erect member back into her open behind. The statue filled her pussy and caused the thin wall of flesh separating her cunt from her ass to be rubbed against the Captain's plunging fuck-stick. She wanted his hot cum in her ass, and would have told him so if her throat had not been filled with Edwarde's dick. She had enough freedom of movement to wiggle her behind and thrust back to meet the Captain's anal intrusion. He held her ass cheeks spread open, and the evil men could see that on each outward stroke a little collar of her ass was dragged out, clinging to his shaft, and on each inward stroke her flesh was pushed deep inside. He was shoving his rod into her guts to its full length, hitting bottom as his balls slapped against her oily, dildo-stuffed pussy, spanking her clit in the process. He took such long strokes that he pulled all the way out of her ass, backing off several inches while still holding her cheeks spread so that all the men could see her wide open anus, stretched beyond closing. As he plowed back up her bottom, she moaned around the cock in her mouth, sucking hard on the fat juicy prick and swirling her tongue around the leaking head. She was totally lost now, reveling in the degradation of being publicly buggered while gorging herself on pirate cock. Men were running their hands over her slick flesh, squeezing her breasts, pulling on her inflamed nipples, smacking and pinching her all over. She was rocking back and forth, shoved forward onto Edwarde's cock as Renoir slammed against the plump cushions of her young behind, sending the African's big stick down her throat, then feeling the suction inside her as they both pulled back. She was ecstatic, delirious with lust as they used her noble body for their base pleasure, treating her like the lowliest tavern whore. Edwarde started to come, shouting as he pulled his cock from her throat and held it in front of her staring face. As she watched intently, he pumped the ebony monster and she saw the little slit in the end open as a thick streamer of his hot cum flew from the head and into her open lips. It coated her tongue and filled her mouth, but before she could finish gulping it all down his rod twitched again. With her lips closed, the rope of sperm splashed across her face, further soiling her aristocratic features. It coated her cheeks and dripped from her nose, and she stuck out her tongue in time to catch the milky seed as it slid from her upper lip. When her little pink tongue was coated with the slippery load, she pulled it in and swallowed. He continued to shoot his cum across the beautiful princess's face and into her open mouth until his big black balls were drained. His sperm ran down her lovely visage, increasing her degradation and hence inflaming her passion further. In her ass the Captain's big cock was moving faster, approaching his climax and stimulating the captive Duchess to begin her own orgasm as his hanging balls slapped against her bare pussy lips and screaming clit. She was squeezing her ass muscles as hard as she could, trying to milk the cum from his plunging dick, which also increased the pressure on the ivory dildo in her cunt. Her moans turned to shouts as she crossed the point of no return, her pretty toes curling and cream dribbling from her dildo-stuffed pussy hole to trickle down her trembling thighs. "Oh God yes! Fuck my bottom, you filthy bastard! Bugger me! Don't stop! I want your hot cum in my ass!" the conquered noblewoman screamed, Edwarde's sperm spraying from her mouth. Her pleas for him to come in her ass pushed the Captain over the top, and his thick cock began squirting steaming pirate spunk deep into her bowels. She felt it searing the delicate walls of her rectum and she went right into a second orgasm as two of the men who had been watching and stroking their cocks stepped up and began to come on her face. She held her mouth open, eager to catch their musky dick-juice and swallow it down. The hot male taste of fresh sperm right in the middle of her mind-numbing orgasm nearly drove her into unconsciousness. She shook and vibrated, yelling between swallows, cum pouring over her lower lip and dangling from her chin. "The wench spends yet again!" exclaimed one of the men watching Therese's shameless exhibition. "A lusty whore indeed! She'll wear us all out before she's done!" The men aimed their spurts onto her swinging breasts, so that thick pearls of spunk hung from her abused nipples. As her ass filled up with Renoir's copious seed, it squirted out from around his cock and cascaded over her hairless, nun-filled cunt. Renoir pulled out of the Duchess's ravaged backside, his rod dripping fluids. He grasped the dildo protruding from her pussy and slid the slippery statue from the swollen orifice, tossing it on the table. Both the noble Lady's ravaged holes were red and gaping open, streams of cum and pussy juice pouring out and running down her thighs. The Captain gestured to one of the pirates, who opened the latch on the stocks and lifted the top from her trapped neck and wrists as the Captain released the straps on her legs. Two men lifted the sperm-drenched beauty from the bondage device and carried her over to a platform covered with blankets. Tendrils of her lovely auburn hair were plastered to her face by sweat and spunk. As she reclined on the cushioned surface she closed her eyes and used her fingers to push the gobs of cum from her cheeks into her mouth. Therese lay with her legs spread wide, displaying her open wet pussy and juice-streaked inner thighs to the pirates. She placed a hand on her soaking crotch, feeling her bare labia for the first time since they had shaved her. It was so sensitive without hair, even more so because of all the stimulating friction she had experienced. Cupping her bald mound in her palm she rested her fingers over the open lips, pressing the tips against her throbbing little clit and pushing the hungry button in delicious circles. The slick flesh was coated with her juices and Renoir's sperm, and she loved the slippery feeling of rubbing it into her sex. Renoir stepped back and nodded to the men, several of whom had not yet come, and were waiting to use the Lady next. One lay down on the blankets and they lifted her onto him, his erect cock sliding into her stretched pussy in one motion. She sighed as she spread her knees and settled down, her tender breasts pressing against his hard chest. She did not protest when she felt another man behind her, sliding his hard cock up and down between her wet asscheeks and pressing it into her loosened anus. When another pirate presented his stiff organ at her face, she sat up and brazenly opened her mouth wide to take him in. Therese felt wicked and wonderfully full, her body stuffed with hard cock. She was hungry to do anything these men wanted, eager to experience every sexual thrill they could extract from her newly liberated body. She sucked hard on the cock in her mouth, her cheeks deeply hollowed by the force of her suction, and she humped back against the two poles inside her pussy and ass, squeezing her muscles to coax the cum from them. Captain Renoir stood next to Jean-Pierre as they watched her brazen display. "What do you plan to do with her, Captain?" asked the First Mate. "I'm not sure. There is so much I'd like to do with her," he mused. "She is a delight, isn't she?" remarked Jean-Pierre. "Yes, so lovely. And she certainly has taken a fancy to the crew, eh?" The two men laughed as they watched the conquered Duchess eagerly submitting to the depraved lust of the pirate crew. "I expect that tomorrow the Lady will be consumed with guilt over her indiscretion," the Captain said. "We must offer her the opportunity to expiate her sins through some genuine acts of contrition. She'll doubtless be grateful to us." "Why is it always the ladies of quality who submit so willingly?" "One of the mysteries of life, mon ami. But the source of much enjoyment for us, n'est-ce pas?" "Mais certainment!" To be continued... If you enjoyed this story please vote. As always, I appreciate feedback very much; please include an email address if you would like a reply. If you would like to read more about Captain Renoir and the pirates of The Golden Sword look for "Princess and the Pirates" and "Princess and the Pirates, Chap. 2." Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 02 One: The Next Day Therese du Maurier, the beautiful young Duchess de Montfort, awoke with a start. In the unfamiliar surroundings it took her a while to realize where she was and how she had gotten there. She was lying on a bed, covered with a sheet. Sunlight streamed into the room through a space in the heavy curtains that covered the window. Under the sheet she was naked. Looking around she realized it was the same room in which she had been confined when she was first brought to this place. Bits of broken pottery were still on the floor against one wall where she had smashed them in the tantrum she had had when first imprisoned. Is it possible that was only yesterday? It seemed ages ago, part of a former life, in a different world. “Oh, bon Dieu!” she groaned as the memory of what had happened flooded back. She had been captured by pirates – by the evil Captain Antoine Renoir and his crew. They had tortured her cruelly and forced her to submit to their depraved lust. She remembered now how they had used her in every perverted way they could devise. They had taken her in every entrance to her body and had used her as a receptacle for their vile seed. Their seed! The beautiful young noblewoman touched her face and felt the dried residue of the sperm that had covered her smooth skin. She felt filthy and defiled. A bath! She must have a bath immediately! But another feeling tugged at her consciousness. A tickle of arousal that kissed her nipples and warmed her loins. She had given in! They had tormented her, humiliated her and degraded her in front of rough, brutal men and she had given in to her lust. She had become aroused, eagerly submitting and begging them to use her. She wanted to be possessed by them, controlled and even owned by them. Especially by Renoir. What was this power he had over her? Even now, soiled with the remnants of their lust and sore from the invasion of her body, she was excited by the memory of what she had done. As a good Catholic girl, of noble birth and educated by nuns, she was horrified by these feelings. What was wrong with her? She had sinned terribly and must find a priest immediately to confess and seek forgiveness. She looked around the room and saw a table with a basin and a pitcher. As she climbed out of the bed the soreness between her legs reminded her of her sins. The naked girl lifted the pitcher to find that it did indeed hold water. Too thirsty to bother looking for a cup, she drank from the rim of the pitcher, water running down her chin and dripping onto her naked breasts. It reminded her of the way the men’s hot seed had run from her mouth and dripped onto her breasts last night. “Stop, stop!” she cried out loud, trying to chase the disturbing thoughts from her mind. She found a towel and poured some water into the basin. Dipping one end into the water she rubbed at the dried sperm on her face, trying to clean the residue from her skin and from her thoughts. But there was more, it was all over her body, crusted on her belly and thighs. She touched her hair and felt the stiff, matted tangles of what had been her beautiful auburn tresses. It was the last indignity, and she sat down on the floor and began to sob. While she sat there, feeling defeated and confused, there was a knock at the door. At first she didn’t respond, frightened by what they might be planning for her next and ashamed by the way she knew she must look. She quickly got up and grabbed the sheet that had been covering her on the bed and wrapped it around herself. The knock came again, this time accompanied by a voice. “Hello? Are you there?” It was a woman’s voice, speaking English with a Spanish accent. Therese heard a key in the lock. Then the latch rotated and the door swung open. The young Duchess blinked as the bright Caribbean sunlight streamed in, framing the woman in the doorway. She entered and closed the door behind her. “Buenos dias,” she said, looking at Therese, who held the sheet more tightly around herself. “Are you all right?” “Who are you?” Therese asked. “My full name is Dona Isabella Theresa Alonzo de la Vega. But that was in my old life. You can call me Bella,” replied the young woman. Therese noted that the dark-haired woman was about her own age, and very pretty. She was wearing a red silk blouse and black trousers with black leather boots. Held in the gold sash tied around her slender waist was a dagger. Therese thought she looked more like a pirate than a Dona. “You are Spanish?” she asked. “Si, senorita.” “How did you get here? Are you a pirate, too?” the confused girl inquired. “I was a noble lady, en route to meet my future husband, when our ship was captured by buccaneers. They sold me to Captain Renoir. I belong to him now.” She said this quite matter-of-factly, as if it did not disturb her at all to be the property of Renoir. “I am Therese du Maurier, Duchess of Montfort,” the French girl said. Suddenly remembering her condition, Therese turned her face away from Isabella. “Don’t look at me, please. I must look like a horror,” she said, ashamed. “But you are beautiful,” replied the Spanish girl, “and you have the most intriguing green eyes. Don’t worry, dear. You should have seen what I looked like the first time Captain Renoir and his men had their way with me.” This also was said calmly, as if the experience held no painful memories for her. “You? They did this to you, too?” “I’ll tell you about it sometime. I tried to fight it, but I’m afraid it was no use.” “You mean you tried to fight them, the men?” “Well, that, too. But I meant I tried to fight my feelings. I could not resist the pleasure I felt at being dominated and possessed by Captain Renoir and his men. The more they abused me, the more aroused I became. I ended up begging for it!” she said with a slight smile. “I, too,” confessed the Duchess. “I’m so ashamed of myself. After everything the nuns taught me I have disgraced myself in the eyes of God. I must find a priest so that I can confess and be forgiven.” “There are no priests on the island of Tortugas, querid, only buccaneers. You’ll have to be content with confiding in me,” Isabella replied. “For now I can only offer you more earthly assistance.” “I’m filthy. I need a bath, and I need to use the toilet,” Therese said. “Well, that I can certainly help you with. There is an outhouse near here. Follow me.” A few minutes later Therese stood before Isabella wrapped in the sheet, one of her needs relieved. Isabella handed her a small pile of folded cloth. “Put this on and I’ll take you to a place to bathe,” she said. The Duchess dropped her sheet and pulled the white linen caftan over her head. Isabella handed her a pair of slippers, and Therese turned them over in her hand. “These are mine,” she said, surprised. “Yes, I recovered them from the cellar room. I thought you might want something of your own. I’m afraid there was not much left of your dress.” Therese blushed as she remembered how the pirates had shredded her velvet sleeping gown. She slipped the shoes over her feet and followed Isabella. Two: The Grotto They walked for about a quarter mile, when Isabella led her through a copse of trees and they found themselves next to a sheltered pool of water. The banks were covered with thick moss, and tropical flowers clung to the rocks of a small hill that concealed the pool on the side opposite the trees. “It is fed by a warm spring. The water has the heat of a bath,” Isabella said as she opened a cloth bag she had been carrying. Reaching in she withdrew a cream-colored cake of soap. “It is soap,” Isabella said as she handed it to Therese. “Made from coconut oil. Very fragrant, and gentle for your skin.” Taking the soap, Therese put it to her nose and inhaled. “Mmm, yes it smells lovely. Thank you so much Bella. You don’t know how much I want to have a bath.” “Yes, I think I do, dear,” the Spanish girl said as she took something else from the bag. “I have a sea sponge for you, too.” “Oh, you are so sweet, Bella. Thank you.” “Dinada,” Bella replied. “Now take off your robe and get in. I’ll stay and keep watch.” Therese pulled the caftan over her head and walked into the pool, sighing as the warm water caressed her body. She ducked under the water to wet her hair and began to rub the coconut soap into her matted locks. Her hair softened and became clean as the soap did its work, and she ducked under again to rinse it off. Then she brought the cake of soap under the water and scrubbed herself until she felt clean again. “Come get the sponge, Therese,” Isabella said as she held it out for her new friend. “No, you come in Bella,” the French girl smiled. “Come in and wash my back and I’ll wash yours.” Therese knew she had made a new friend, and was feeling like a schoolgirl again. Isabella hesitated, thinking she should stay on the bank to keep watch, but the warm water was so inviting she relented and began to shed her clothes. Under the blouse and trousers she wore a chemise and pantalettes, which she removed and placed on the pile of her outer clothes. On top she placed the dagger for easier access if needed, her back to the pool. “Oh! Oh, my!” Therese exclaimed as she saw Isabella naked. The Spanish princess had intricate blue-black designs on her back and shoulder, and one on her bottom cheek. “You have…you have…” she stammered, uncertain what to say. “They are tattoos, querida,” said Isabella as she turned to face Therese and stepped to the edge of the pool. “Oh, my…and…and…” Therese was rendered speechless at the sight of the gold rings that Isabella wore in her pierced nipples. “Do you like them, dear?” she said as she slid into the soothing warmth of the tropical pool. Slipping up against Therese she took the soap from the French duchess and rubbed it on the sponge. Isabella washed Therese’s back with the coconut soap as she explained, “Captain Renoir pierced my nipples in front of the whole crew. I never felt so dominated and possessed.” “Did it hurt terribly?” the Duchess asked, feeling a strange tingle between her legs as she considered the idea of having her nipples pierced while the pirate crew watched. “There was some, pain, yes,” the girl replied. “But it was good pain. And I came!” “What?!” the Duchess exclaimed, blushing furiously at the intimate revelation. “Indeed. I came twice, once with each piercing!” said the pretty Spanish princess with a chuckle. She added, “I had many climaxes that day, from many men.” “Oh, Bella. I did, too. I don’t know how many times I came last night. They took me in every way. Did they do that to you?” Therese was relieved that Isabella was washing her back, so she did not have to face her while revealing her secret feelings. “Yes, dear. They did not spare any part of my body, and I loved it. I never would have even imagined being used that way, but it was wonderful. I suppose I am truly a slave of lust in my heart,” she confessed in a whisper. “Me too! Oh, me too!” Therese blurted, relieved to find that she was not alone in these feelings, but still conflicted admitting such sinful desires. Isabella placed her lips near Therese’s ear and whispered, “Are you sore, dear?” “A little,” Therese admitted in a tiny voice, blushing even more. “Let me help you,” the Spanish girl said as the sponge slid around to Therese’s front and caressed her breasts. As the young Duchess closed her eyes and leaned back against the Spanish noblewoman she felt the hard circles of gold in Isabella’s nipples pressing into her back. “But it is a sin, is it not? To feel pleasure from such things, to enjoy being ravished by pirates, isn’t it a terrible sin?” “I think not, querida. Quite the contrary. I believe that it is God’s way of helping you to endure the ravishment. You had no choice, n’est-ce pas?” she asked in Therese’s own French. “God makes you feel the pleasure so that you will not suffer. It is because he loves you.” “Yes, I see what you mean,” Therese agreed, as Isabella’s hand moved lower, rubbing the sponge over her belly and down to her hairless mound. Under the warm water she stroked the soft sponge between Isabella thighs, causing the French girl to let out a charming little moan. “I see they shaved you,” Bella whispered as she rubbed the sponge over Therese’s bald pussy. “I also have been shaved, and that too in front of the crew.” No stranger to being bathed by attendants, Therese opened her legs to give Isabella better access to her tender slit. Isabella continued, “Before sailing the Spanish Main, Captain Renoir was a pirate in the waters around Madagascar. I’ve been told by some of the other women in our enclave that it was his experience with the women of Arabia that gave him a preference for girls to be shaved like that.” Bella pushed the sponge down between Therese’s legs and brought it up the back, delving into the deep crevice between her buttocks. Therese closed her eyes and leaned her head back on Isabella’s shoulder as her rapidly moistening pussy began to take control. “Come, let us get out of the water. I have something special to make you feel better,” Isabella urged. The two darling aristocrats climbed out of the pool into the warm Caribbean air. Bella took a towel from the cloth bag and the girls proceeded to pat each other dry. Isabella spread out the linen caftan and knelt on the mossy ground. “Lie down, cherie,” she said, patting the caftan next to her. From the cloth bag she withdrew a small clay jar and removed the cork. “What is that, Bella?” asked the Duchess. “It is a butter made from the oil of cocoa beans, where chocolate comes from,” she answered. Therese briefly recalled that the last time she had tasted chocolate had been on the ship Roi du Soleil, in what was now her old life. Isabella held the jar out to Therese, who looked inside and smelled it. “It doesn’t look like chocolate, but it does smell faintly like it.” “It is an unguent, to soothe the skin,” said Isabella, taking back the jar and dipping her finger into the soft butter. “Lie down.” She removed a dab of the grease and touched it to the tip of Therese’s breast, eliciting a little gasp from the auburn-haired sweetheart. Isabella rubbed the salve into Therese’s nipple and aureole, and the French girl did indeed feel it soothing the soreness in her tender nipples. Therese closed her eyes while Bella massaged her breasts. “They placed a chain on my nipples with clamps, and pulled me around like an animal.” After a pause she continued, “God forgive me, I became aroused.” “God does forgive you, my child,” Bella said softly, assuming the role of the nuns both girls had known as children. “Tell Sister Bella and I will make it better.” “Oh, Sister,” Therese continued as Bella rubbed the cocoa butter into the ends of her breasts, gently rolling the rapidly hardening nipples between her fingers. “They did the most evil things to me. They put their…their…I can’t say it,” whispered the embarrassed Duchess. “It’s all right, my child. What did they do to you? Give me your confession.” “They put their… comment est-ce qu’on dit ‘bites’?” Therese said as she gestured toward her crotch. “Cocks?” “Oui, their cocks.” She pronounced it like ‘cokes.’ “They put their cocks inside me. Not just inside my sex, where God intended. They put them in my mouth, too, and I sucked them. They even took me…dans mon cul, in my bottom,” Therese buried her face in her hands, hiding from the shame she felt. “They had a kind of statuette. It looked like a Sister at prayer, but it also looked like a man’s…cock.” “And did they put that inside you, too?” “Yes, in my bottom and in my sex.” “Was it terribly painful?” Isabella asked, now pulling on both of Therese’s greased nipples at the same time. “No! That’s the worst part. It felt good! I had never experienced pleasure like that before. God help me, I begged them for more. I even begged them to take me in my behind!” “Don’t cry, child. I told you, the pleasure is God’s way of helping you to endure your ordeal. Was this the statuette?” Isabella inquired. Therese opened her eyes to see the Spanish girl holding what appeared to be the very same nun/dildo that Renoir had used to prepare her bottom hole for penetration. “Mon Dieu! Yes, that’s it. How did you get it?” “I took it from the chamber when I retrieved your slippers. I washed it and brought it along in case we needed it.” “Needed it? What would we need it for, Sister?” asked Therese, continuing to regard Isabella as her confessor. “For your penance, my child. I can help absolve you so that you need not feel any guilt.” “How?” the French girl asked, her eyes on the ivory phallus. “If there is any sin attached to what happened last night, it must be expiated by recreating the act in my presence. You must experience it again with Sister, and that will be your act of contrition.” The young Duchess considered this. Surely Isabella would not lead her astray. It seemed reasonable to her that recreating the sinful act in a repentant manner might remove the sin. As she looked at the object, a tiny tingle between her legs convinced her that she should waste no time in cleansing her soul. Isabella held out the erotic object and said to Therese, “Kiss it, child. Kiss the nun and ask for forgiveness.” The Duchess de Montfort placed her sweet lips on the top of the little nun’s head and gently kissed it. “Forgive me Sister, I have sinned,” she said. “What part of your flesh committed the sin?” “My mouth, Sister,” Therese said, her eyes lowered. “And my sex. And my behind.” “Lie down, my girl, and take this relic in your mouth the way the men took you last night. Cleanse your sins.” Therese du Maurier opened her lips and allowed Isabella to slide the nun/dildo into her mouth, taking several inches inside. “Now suck, cherie. Hold it yourself and suck like you did before.” Therese lay back on the soft ground, her knees bent. She held the dildo with both hands as she moved it in and out of her mouth, just as she had sucked on the hard pirate cocks before. Looking between the girl’s open thighs, Isabella saw her sweet pussy glistening with wetness. The hairless lips were parted, and a tiny trickle of juice ran down to her pink, puckered anus. At the top of her slit the lovely little nub of her clit was erect and protruding from its hood. Isabella dipped her fingers into the jar of cocoa butter and scooped out a generous dollop. Therese moaned around the dildo as Bella spread the ointment over her shaved mound and along the plump outer lips. The Spanish girl rubbed gently, her fingers tracing along the wet slit and rolling the sensitive clit button around in circles. Therese was trembling, holding her legs apart to allow Isabella full access to her gushing pussy as her dildo-sucking became more urgent. Isabella placed her lips on Therese’s belly and trailed kisses down over her hairless mound and onto the cocoa-buttered labia. She kissed along the leaking slit and brushed the tip of her tongue over the erect little clit, licking the twitching nub of pleasure and drawing moans and whimpers from the aroused Duchess. Therese had never had her pussy licked before, and Isabella’s tongue was driving her mad. After a few minutes of the exquisite torture, Isabella took the dildo from Therese and slid it down the girl’s naked body, stopping to rub the head around on her greased nipples before trailing it over her belly to her spread crotch. She teased the young Duchess by rubbing it over her hairless mound and along the leaking slit. She gently kissed Therese on her panting mouth, and the French girl tasted herself on Isabella’s lips. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 02 “Beseme, ” whispered Dona Isabella. When Bella slipped her hot Spanish tongue into Therese’s sweet French mouth the young Duchess welcomed the probe by gently sucking on it. Isabella broke the kiss, their soft lips clinging together for a moment. She placed her silken cheek against Therese’s and whispered in her ear, “Tell me, querida. Tell me what they did to you.” “They put their hard cocks in me, Sister. They fucked me,” she gasped, too aroused to choose more gentle language. “They even put their cocks in my derriere, my bottom! God forgive me, I liked it.” “Did they come?” Bella whispered. “Did you take their juice?” The Spanish girl was rubbing the dildo more urgently along Therese’s slit, pressing at her tight pussy hole. “Yes, oh God, yes,” the Duchess moaned. “Their come was everywhere. All over me, in my pussy and in my ass. They came in my mouth, too, and I swallowed it!” Isabella pressed her lips to Therese’s, hard and urgent this time. Her tongue probed the girl’s mouth as if she hoped to taste some of the sperm that Therese had swallowed. As they kissed, Isabella pushed the nun/dildo into Therese’s tight pussy, sliding it in and out, deeply fucking the grateful girl. Bella reluctantly broke the kiss, a delicate thread of the girls’ mixed saliva and Therese’s pussy juice connecting their lips for a second. “You’ve been very naughty, my child, haven’t you?” Bella asked. “Oh, yes, Sister. I’ve been so bad. I’ve been bad with my mouth and my pussy and my bottom. Please make it better, please!” “Turn over, child, I’m going to have to spank your bottom.” “Oh, non! Please don’t hurt me, Sister!” “It must be done, to purge the sin. You do want to be forgiven, don’t you?” “Yes, I do so much want to be forgiven,” Therese acquiesced as she turned over to offer her luscious bottom for retribution. “Raise yourself up on your knees, my girl. Show your contrition by presenting yourself willingly for the punishment. Therese lifted her ass into the air, her shoulders pressed to the ground. She spread her legs, revealing the dildo still in her dripping pussy. Isabella ran her hands over the firm, round cheeks, squeezing them and pulling them apart to expose the crinkled little anus. Suddenly she smacked Therese’s bottom with her open palm, causing the firm round cheeks to jiggle tightly and bringing a squeal from the kneeling girl. Isabella proceeded to slap the French girl’s ass, spanking her playfully until the succulent cheeks blushed a deep pink. Some of the smacks landed on the Duchess’s pussy, the protruding dildo transmitting the blows into her tight vaginal canal and making her feel both spanked and fucked at the same time. Finally Isabella ceased the punishment, rubbing and squeezing the hot red cheeks to soothe the angry flesh. Therese was whimpering from the spanking. “It hurts, Bella. You spanked me so hard!” she pouted. “Let me kiss it, querida. I will make it better,” she offered. She leaned forward and planted little angel kisses on her friend’s bottom, trailing her mouth along the moist crack and finally pressing her puckered lips against the hairless pink asshole. Isabella used the tip of her tongue to probe the tight hole, licking and kissing the forbidden place. “Suce-moi le cul! Je ne peux pas resister!” Therese gasped at the oral attention. Then, “Ah, oui, oui!” As Isabella pulled the dildo from Therese’s squeezing pussy she reached for the jar of cocoa butter and rubbed some on the top of the nun’s head. Then she pressed it against the wet asshole and slowly the tight muscle relaxed. As the ivory phallus slid into the French girl’s hot bottom, Isabella kissed around the invading statuette, licking the stretched sphincter to ease the entry. Finally only a couple of inches of the dildo remained outside. “Is this what they did to you, my angel?” she asked. “Yes, they moved it, too. They fucked me with it,” she hinted as she reached back with both hands and spread her ass open. “Like this?” Isabella asked as she held the end and began to slide it in and out of the beautiful Duchess’s squeezing bottom. “Ah, oui! Comme ca, comme ca!” As she plunged the ivory dildo into Therese’s ass, Isabella ducked her head under and licked the girl’s dripping pussy at the same time. Moving up she placed her lips over the protruding end and grasped it in her teeth, then used her mouth to fuck the Duchess in the ass with the dildo. Bobbing her head forward caused her lips to bump against the French girl’s tightly stretched sphincter, further stimulating the whimpering aristocrat. With her hands now free, Isabella made a little cock of two fingers and slipped them into Therese’s empty pussy, fucking her in both holes at the same time. The air around them was heavy with the blended aroma of tropical flowers and aroused princesses. As the French girl’s climax approached, Isabella’s other hand slipped between her own thighs to rub her dripping slit. She pushed her hard clit in around in circles, reaching for her own impending orgasm as she mouth-fucked Therese in the ass. “Well, what a lovely sight!” The two girls jumped apart and looked up to see four very rough-looking men staring down at them. Three: “Black Jack” Hutton “So that’s what all the noise was about!” Isabella was sitting back on her heels with her legs spread, and Therese was on her side, the dildo still in her bottom. They had been so immersed in their erotic game that they had failed to hear the intruders approaching. The bearded men were coarser and even scruffier looking than the pirates the girls knew from Renoir’s crew, and Isabella suspected they were not from The Golden Sword. She glanced over to where she had left her clothes and her dagger. “Looking for this, my lady?” one of them said, holding up the knife. “You ladies should be more careful when you go out to fuck,” said another, followed by a hearty laugh from his comrades. He had a patch over his left eye, and a scar that ran under the patch from his brow to his chin, as if he had been badly injured in a fight. He wore a wide-brimmed black hat with a large ostrich plume in the side, and had a thick silver ring in his right ear. As he walked around the girls he regarded Isabella’s tattoos. “These marks look like Renoir’s work,” said Eyepatch, and Isabella was now certain the men were not from The Golden Sword. “Yes,” Isabella said. “We belong with Captain Antoine Renoir. You had better not hurt us.” “Hurt you? We have no wish to hurt you, darling. We just want to have fun with you.” The men laughed, and from their accents Isabella reckoned them to be a raiding party of English pirates. They were shirtless in the warm Caribbean air, and their backs and chests bore the scars of lash and blade. Conscious of her nakedness, Therese started to reach for the towel to cover herself, but one of the men snatched it away. Attempting to achieve some shred of modesty, she held her thighs tightly together and used her arms to cover her naked breasts. “No mistake about it, you girls were going at it like a couple of the best tavern sluts in Port Royal.” “Bricon! Vilain! We are not sluts!” Therese scolded. “We are ladies of quality!” “My sincere apologies, my lady,” said Eyepatch, removing his hat with a sweeping gesture of mock chivalry. “But that might be more convincing if you did not have a dildo in your lovely ass.” Blushing furiously, Therese reached back to remove the object from her bottom. There was a wet noise as she slid the dildo out, and she saw that the men were no longer laughing as they stared at her. A couple were licking their lips. “I would say these ‘ladies of quality’ were quite close to a bloody great spend when we interrupted them Captain. What do you say we finish the job?” “Right now I can’t think of anything more delightful,” he replied, as he stepped over to the kneeling Spanish girl and stood in front of her. As she glanced at the knife in his belt, he stepped back and said, “Tie their hands, Pete, so they don’t try anything foolish.” One of the buccaneers removed a kerchief from around his neck and pulled Isabella to her feet. As he bound her hands behind her, he nodded to one of the other men who did the same with Therese. As the Captain stood next to Therese, the other three men surrounded Isabella, running their hands over her body, squeezing her breasts and bottom. The Captain tilted Therese’s chin up and looked down at her face with his one good eye. “I’m Captain Jack Hutton, of the ship Fortune Hunter. I’m known to most as ‘Black Jack’. And what might be your name, my green-eyed beauty?” The captive girl could barely find her voice, but she managed to say, “Therese du Maurier, monsieur.” She thought it wiser not to mention that she was a Duchess. “I demand that you let us go!” Her attempt to gain some control over the situation while standing before him naked and bound only elicited a derisive chuckle from the English raider. “I’m sure Captain Renoir will pay you for our safe return,” she suggested. “Ha, you think so, do you? Renoir would slit our throats as soon as we got within sword’s length. He and I are old enemies, Mademoiselle du Maurier,” he said, putting mocking emphasis on her aristocratic surname. “Besides, you would be worth more at the slave market in Port Royal.” “Oh, mon Dieu, non!” exclaimed the French girl at such a thought. Suddenly they heard a cry and turned to see that one of the men had taken hold of Isabella’s golden nipple rings and was pulling down hard, stretching the ends of her breasts and forcing her back to her knees. The one called Pete removed a slender dagger from his belt and inserted the tip in one of the rings, pulling the girl toward his crotch. With his other hand he open his trousers and let them drop. “Go on, darling. Make friends with Master Quimstake.” Naked, with her hands tied behind her and the tip of a dagger in her nipple ring, Isabella still had the spirit to resist. She turned her head and spat, “You pig, Renoir will skewer you all!” “Ha, let him catch us first. For now the only ones getting skewered will be you two lovely ladies,” another of the buccaneers said. “Perhaps she needs a little warming up, hey boys?” said Pete. He put his hand on the back of her head and pushed her face down to the ground, leaving her rear sticking up. Then he ran his hand over her firm, round behind and stroked his fingers along her exposed pussy lips. “Blimey, have a look at this! That old devil Renoir has had the wench shaved. Sure and she’s a juicy slut, too,” he grinned as he played with her slit, stopping to rub the nub of her sensitive little clit. “This little bird is missing her tail feathers, too,” chuckled Hutton as he looked at Therese’s crotch. Her climax with Therese having been interrupted, Isabella was quickly becoming aroused. With her cheek pressed to the mossy ground and her eyes shut, little moans began to come from her open lips. “Please, don’t do that. Leave her alone!” Therese begged in defense of her friend. The French girl, however, was in no position to make demands. Hutton had removed his clothing and sat down on a large, smooth boulder. Grasping Therese by the upper arm he pulled her down onto his lap, sitting sideways. Even sitting on his lap her head was still below his, and he bent forward and inhaled the coconut scent of her freshly washed hair. His erect cock was pressing against her moist bottom, the head wedged between her slick vaginal lips. She was soaking wet from her interrupted dalliance with Isabella, and as she squirmed on his lap she realized she was only making her predicament worse. She quickly stopped moving, afraid her struggles might cause his hard cock to enter her well-lubricated slit. “Oh don’t stop, darling. It feels so nice when you rub that smooth little apricot on my old prick,” laughed Black Jack, the lewd comment causing the captive noblewoman to blush furiously. Hearing moans from Isabella, Therese looked over to see the three pirates running their hands over the kneeling Dona’s raised ass, playing with her pussy and anus. When one of them slipped a finger into Isabella’s dripping vagina, the Spanish girl started to move her bottom in little circles in response to the finger-fucking. “No, Bella! Don’t let them win!” Therese urged. Even if her friend was unable to resist becoming aroused, the French princess was not going to allow herself to give in. If there was no way for her to prevent these men from having their way with her, then so be it, but she was not going to make it worse by cooperating. She was still feeling profoundly guilty over her surrender to Renoir and his men, and she was determined not to repeat that shameful episode. Therese’s hands were still tied behind her, and Hutton held her wrists in one hand and pulled her arms back. This pulled her shoulders back and thrust her large, conical breasts forward. The diabolical buccaneer ran his hands over the firm globes, squeezing and lifting them. He made his hand flat and rubbed his closed fingers back and forth over the puffy pink tips, the washboard effect stimulating her greased nipples to maddening stiffness. As he pinched and pulled on the hard little nubs he slipped his other hand down between her luscious bottom cheeks and began to finger her moist puckered anus. Therese gasped, and wanted to squirm away from the forbidden intrusion, but she was afraid to move for fear of causing his hard cock to slip inside her wet pussy hole. “S’il vous plait, monsieur. Je vous en prie! Ne me touchez pas la, pas mon cul!” she whimpered. Her recent experiences had taught the young aristocrat just how sinfully sensitive her bottom hole was, and she feared that his unwelcome stimulation would undermine her resolve. Instead of complying with her pleas, Hutton responded by pressing his finger at the puckered ring of muscle and pushing inside. The cocoa butter and the ivory nun/dildo had prepared the way, and his finger entered without difficulty. “Mmm, aahhhh, no please don’t!” Therese begged. As he continued to pull on her nipples and wiggle his finger around in her bottom, Therese opened her eyes to see that the other men had untied Isabella’s hands and one of them had entered her from behind. In spite of her recent ordeals Therese had never actually seen anyone in flagrante and she found the sight at once shocking and fascinating. As the man thrust into Bella’s hot pussy, it was obvious from the way she was shoving back that she had surrendered completely. Therese’s attention was brought back to her own situation when Hutton slipped a second finger into her bottom alongside the first and pushed them deeper into her ass. He twisted the two fingers, stroking the inside of her ass tunnel and spreading the digits to loosen her sphincter. The fullness and friction felt wonderful to the poor girl, and in spite of her fear and guilt she was becoming aroused against her will. As he cruelly pulled on her long, stiff nipples her breathing came quicker, and she bit her full lower lip to try to quell the feeling that her pussy was going to melt like hot wax. Her tormentor brought his other hand down from her breasts, over her quivering belly and between her legs. He ran his fingers over her wet, shaved pussy lips, spreading her juices along the slippery crease and rubbing her twitching clit button, eliciting an involuntary moan from the helpless girl. The Duchess tried to avert the spreading feeling of lust by thinking of something else, anything else. She tried to think of the nuns, of Hail Marys and Our Fathers, of the large crucifix at the front of the chapel on her estate. But it was no use. What kept creeping back into her consciousness were thoughts of rough men with hard cocks, of the feeling of being filled in her pussy and ass, and of the taste of cock in her mouth. She remembered what Isabella had told her about the pleasure being God’s way of helping her bear the ordeal, but her conscience would have preferred resistance. Feeling herself at the brink of disaster, Therese took advantage of the fact that both the pirate’s hands were occupied and made a desperate attempt to escape. She lurched from his lap, pulling his fingers from her body as she leapt for freedom. But with her hands tied behind her she was unsteady on her feet, and as she stumbled away Hutton easily grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She fell to her knees, her breasts bobbing and shaking as she sobbed in defeat. Her auburn hair had been drying without benefit of brush or comb, and the disheveled Duchess looked up with tear-filled green eyes as he picked up his knife and leaned over her. She feared he was going to hurt her, to punish her for trying to escape, but instead he merely cut the cloth binding her hands. As she rubbed her wrists he twisted his fingers in her hair and pulled her face close to his erect cock. “Get to work, wench. Let’s see what you can do with that pretty mouth,” he ordered. Therese looked over to see Isabella now sitting upright, riding one of the pirates’ cocks while holding a hard dick in each hand and sucking on them alternately. As she bounced and sucked, her large, pierced breasts jiggled and swayed. The French girl moaned in despair at the display of such shameless depravity, especially by a woman of the same noble birth as herself. But Therese knew it was useless to resist. This pautonnier could force her to do whatever he wanted, and he might even hurt her if she fought him. Perhaps if she just took him in her hand she could satisfy him that way. She reached up and gently wrapped her fingers around his formidable member, not quite able to close her hand around its girth. The hard organ was still wet with the pussy cream she had deposited on it while sitting on his lap. Slowly she began to move her hand back and forth, feeling the heat as his soft cockskin slid along the shaft. A large drop of clear fluid collected at the tip and dripped onto her wrist. As she increased the pace of her jerking, more pre-cum ran from the little slit in his cock and trickled along her forearm. Her nostrils flared as they filled with the masculine scent of his cock and balls. His patience fading, Hutton pulled her head forward to force her mouth onto his cock. Therese reflexively turned her head to avoid the contact, and as a result her lips slid along her arm through the glistening trail of pre-cum as her cheek bumped against his cockhead. “Stop stalling, my lady. You know what you must do!” he ordered. With his juice in her mouth now and smeared on her lips and cheek, Therese realized their was no point in resisting putting her mouth on his hot organ. But she reasoned that if she just put her lips on the end of his manhood, that might be enough to satisfy his wanton desires. As she planted her pursed lips on the end of his throbbing erection a large surge of cock juice flooded over her tongue and ran to the back of her throat. Before she could react she had swallowed it, and her mouth tingled and salivated with the manly taste. Now the French noblewoman feared that if she did not open her lips and take him inside he might force his hard cock into her mouth, perhaps even into her throat. Hoping to avoid such an indignity she decided it would be better to take just the head inside her mouth and attempt to slake his desires that way. Therese opened wide and slid her mouth over the fat purple cockhead until her stretched lips rested on the collar of his foreskin. Her tongue was pressed flat under his cock, and she was forced to breathe through her flared nostrils as more clear juice trickled over her tongue and down her throat. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 02 Suddenly Hutton grabbed her head in both of his strong hands and thrust deep into her mouth. His cockhead bumped against the back of her throat when more than half of the shaft was still outside her mouth, and the brave girl suppressed the urge to gag. She grasped his thighs with her hands, holding on for dear life as he held her head immobile and proceeded to fuck her in the mouth, thrusting deep and using the helpless woman as a passive receptacle for his lust. Saliva and pre-cum ran from her lips and over her chin, dripping down onto her stiff pink nipples as she tasted herself on his cock. Hoping to prevent him from choking her with his vigorous thrusts, Therese grasped his cockshaft in both hands and held on as he used her mouth. She was rapidly losing control of herself, and soon she was using her hands to pump his cock as she sucked hard on the hot dick. She was still trying to convince herself that this was necessary only to try to end her ordeal as quickly as possible. The lusting pirate pulled his wet cock from her tightly stretched lips, causing a loud sucking noise. She actually tried to pull him back inside, holding her mouth open and wiggling her tongue at him. “Oh, monsieur, encore, encore,” she gasped, shocked to hear her own voice begging. But Hutton had other humiliations in mind for the beautiful captive as he used his long erection to slap her across the face, hitting her on the cheeks and lips. She kept her mouth open and held her tongue out, letting him abuse her, even inviting him to smack his cock on the surface of her protruding tongue. She could not resist the effect that this brutal domination had on her, loving the feeling of helplessness and surrender. She knew she deserved punishment for her lustful feelings, and she submitted willingly. After a few minutes of this obscene mistreatment, Hutton grabbed her hair and tilted her head up. As he looked down at her, his scarred face and patched eye looked so dangerous to the sheltered girl it sent a thrill of fear through her chest. “Lick my balls, slut, and do a good job!” he commanded. Quick to obey her captor, Therese lifted his heavy cock and licked along the underside to the root. She used the tip of her delicate pink tongue on his wrinkled scrotum, the masculine scent of his sweat almost causing her to swoon. She lapped at his balls slavishly, spreading her spit over his genitals and drawing each testicle into her mouth and sucking gently. While she sucked his balls, a steady flow of pre-cum dribbled from the end of his hard cock and dripped onto her face, soiling her delicate features. The captive noblewoman nibbled along the hot shaft to the top, nipping at his retracted foreskin with her lips and finally plunging her mouth over the purple head. She sucked hard, bobbing her head and fucking him with her mouth. The defeated Duchess was now beside herself with lust; whimpering, sucking, creaming down her thighs. She was barely aware of anything beyond this wicked man’s wonderful cock filling her mouth as she cupped his balls with one hand and jerked on his dick with the other. Suddenly Therese was aware of some noise from nearby, and Hutton pulled his hard-on from her dripping lips as the other buccaneers dragged Isabella over to kneel in front their leader. They arranged the women facing each other, and the Captain seized a handful of each lady’s hair and pushed them forward so that their mouths were on either side of his long erection. Holding them captive, he proceeded to fuck in and out between the two pretty faces, forcing their lips to ride along the shaft of his wet cock. Their lids half closed with lust, the conquered noblewomen gazed into each other’s eyes as they shared hot pirate cock. Isabella reached out and wrapped her arms around her friend, pulling her closer as Therese reciprocated and they hugged each other tightly. The girls’ large young breasts were pressed together, and Therese could feel the hard metal rings in Isabella’s pierced nipples rubbing against the tips of her own swollen mounds. “By Lucifer’s balls, these sluts are the finest I’ve ever had!” exclaimed Hutton. “Better than any whores I’ve seen in Port Royal or Portobello!” agreed one of his men. The vulgar insults only increased the girls’ feelings of subjugation and spurred them on to greater heights of arousal. Therese had a dim thought that this depraved fiend might shoot his seed between their lips, and she and Isabella would be forced share and swallow it. The idea was so vile and forbidden that she almost had an orgasm right then. But before that could happen Hutton yanked their hair and pulled them off his dripping cock. He pushed Therese onto her back and lifted her long legs until they pressed against her breasts. Her wet, shaved sex was spread wide and exposed to the stares of the four devils. A torrent of juice ran from her tight pussy to coat her bottom hole, which was puffy and loosened by the anal molestation she had suffered. At the top of her slit her delicate little clit button protruded, erect and twitching. The French aristocrat was panting and whimpering, trembling for him to do whatever he wanted to her. What he wanted was to drive this spoiled princess insane with lust until she was begging for them to use her body. He also wanted to get revenge on Renoir by ravishing his old enemy’s women, and the fact that Renoir had not had a chance to mark this one as his property with his distinctive tattoos meant that she was fresh and barely used. Knowing that she couldn’t take much more, Hutton lifted his heavy cock and slapped it on her open pussy. He pummeled her soaking sex flesh, hitting her labia and clit until they were painfully engorged and inflamed. She was gasping and crying, tears streaming from her eyes to mix with the cock-juice and drool that already glistened on her face. “S’il te plait, s’il te plait, monsieur. Maintenant, donnez-moi votre bite! Baisez-moi! Baisez-moi!” she screamed, all her feelings of guilt replaced with raging fuck-need. The other men grabbed the Duchess’s ankles and held her legs in the air, then pulled Isabella around onto her knees so that her head was resting on Therese’s quivering belly. The sweet Dona’s face was only inches from where the Captain’s cock continued to punish her friend’s swollen pussy, and with each slap, juice splashed in all directions, splattering the Spanish girl’s lovely face with sweet droplets of musky cream. The men lifted her hips in the air, spreading her legs wide. As one of them slid his cock into her gushing sex, Isabella stuck out her tongue and licked at the fragrant French pussy juice that landed on her lips. She wanted to taste more, and she held her mouth open and strained to reach the dripping cock that was driving the Duchess insane. Hutton obliged by moving the few inches necessary to let the girl have what she craved, and Isabella moaned loudly as she plunged her mouth over the dripping tool and sucked the mixture of cock-juice and pussy-cream down her throat. She was filled with bandit cock at both ends whether she liked it or not, but she did like it; she loved it. One of the other men moved around to Therese’s other side as the Captain’s hot dick was pulled from Bella’s lips with a loud slurp, and she quickly filled her drooling mouth with the new tool. Black Jack went back to punishing the young Duchess’s swollen pussy, rubbing the purple head of his cock up and down her gaping slit and over her tingling clit. The Duchess de Montfort was delirious, near fainting as she pleaded again, “S’il te plait! Baisez-moi! Dans ma chatte!” But the villain didn’t put it in her pussy, because he would never give this woman what she asked for. Instead he nodded to the fourth man who took hold of her arms and held them fast above her head. The Captain slid his dick down her soaking slit until the fat juice-coated head was pressed right against her clenching asshole. He knew she could take him there, however she might protest. And protest she did as the thick probe began to stretch her sphincter. “Non! S’il te plait, non! Pas par la! Dans ma chatte, dans ma chatte!” But there was no stopping him now as the hard cock slid past the abused ring of muscle and plowed into her guts. She gasped and held her breath, waiting for the pain, but her bottom hole had been well prepared, first by Isabella with the dildo and then by Hutton’s fingering. When most of the length was inside the young princess, he paused to let her body adjust. He had his hands behind her knees, holding her legs back, and as she began to breathe again he began to move in and out of her back passage. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, biting her lip and fighting the feeling that was growing in her ass. But there was no denying the pleasure she was feeling, and her breathing came quicker as he picked up the pace of her anal ravishment. Finally, all pretense of resistance was abandoned as she gasped at him, “Ahh, oui! Prends-moi comme une bete! Enculez-moi!” A steady stream of pussy juice ran from Therese du Maurier’s empty cunt hole and coated the prick in her ass. She opened her eyes to see Isabella on her hands and knees next to her, eagerly taking the two men at the same time. The man fucking her from behind had two fingers rammed deep in Isabella’s tight asshole, and she shoved back at the duel penetration while sucking hard on the cock in her mouth. The hanging globes of the Spanish girl’s succulent breasts swayed and slapped together as she moved. The French woman was beyond shame, beyond reason. She was being fucked in her bottom by a horrible, sadistic bandit and she wanted it! She didn’t care if she was a slut and a sinner, she just wanted more cock. “You should feel how she’s squeezing my cock with her ass,” said the Captain. “I’ve never seen such lusty wenches!” added another, heaping verbal abuse on the humiliated girls. Therese looked up at the man holding her arms and stuck out her tongue, wiggling it to invite him to use her mouth. He didn’t hesitate, letting go of her arms and moving to shove his cock into her open lips. She moaned as she grabbed his prick and pulled him in, sucking hard, wanting him to come in her mouth. The man Isabella was sucking gasped and Therese looked over to see him holding his jerking cock in front of her open lips as he spurted hot come into the Spanish girl’s mouth and over her sweating face. Some overflowed her lips and ran down her chin to fall on Therese’s quivering belly, but she took as much as she could, swallowing the vile juice in gulps as fast as it filled her mouth. As Hutton pounded harder into Therese’s squeezing ass tunnel she reached down with one hand and began to rub her gushing pussy, pressing and pummeling her clit to reach her climax. The pirate slapped her hand away and grabbed the ivory nun/dildo, which was lying on the towel within reach. Without resistance he shoved it into her empty pussy hole, then took her hand and placed it on the protruding end. She grasped it eagerly and plunged it in and out, fucking herself with the fake cock while he plowed into her obscenely stretched ass. With her other hand she pinched and pulled at her own swollen nipples. She sucked as hard as she could on the cock in her mouth, wanting to taste his seed flooding over her tongue in time for her approaching climax. Her wish came true as she felt the hot dick jerk in her mouth and spurt thick come over her tongue and into her throat. She moaned and swallowed as fast as she could, not wanting to lose a drop. Seconds later she began to shake as she felt her orgasm build in her pussy and ass at the same time. Gulping, moaning, come running from her lips, the young princess reached a mind-shattering peak and held it for what seemed like an eternity as the buccaneer Captain emptied his balls into her spasming ass tunnel. “Mon Dieu, je jouir!” she yelled, causing spit and come to spray from her mouth. Beside her Isabella was coming, too, screaming and humping back as sperm and cunt juice squirted from her twitching pussy and ran down the insides of her thighs. “By Lucifer’s balls, look at them come!” “Come, you whores!” As the men withdrew from their ravished bodies, the two battered princesses collapsed on the ground. They lay there for several minutes, gasping and whimpering as they recovered from the intensity of their orgasms, their young bodies covered in sweat, pussy juice and sperm. Finally Hutton spoke to Therese, “Get in the pool and clean yourself up, slut, and hurry.” Not sure what he intended, she scrambled to obey, welcoming the warm water as it washed over her abused body. As she washed she saw the men tying Isabella’s hands and feet and placing a gag in her mouth, and she wondered what they were planning. Hutton waved at her to get out, and as she dried herself with the towel he tossed her the caftan she had worn before. When she had put it on he used a kerchief to tie her hands behind her back again. Isabella lay on the ground, seemingly ignored by the men, who were pulling their trousers on and buckling their belts. Their cruel intentions suddenly became all too clear as Hutton called to his men. “Take her with us. After a bit of training she’ll bring a good price in Port Royal.” “No, please, no!” cried Therese as one of the men easily threw her over his shoulder. As they walked from the grotto Black Jack Hutton turned to Isabella and said, “You can thank Renoir for your tattoos. Every pirate in these waters would recognize his mark, so we can’t sell you at Port Royal. Tell your master we have the French girl. He can try to find me if he wants to try to do something about it!” Isabella was still struggling with her bonds as she watched the men disappear through the trees with the squirming Duchess. To be continued… Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 03 One: Back to the Fortune Hunter “Black Jack” Hutton and the raiding party from the pirate vessel Fortune Hunter made their way through the tropical forest as they headed for the beach. Therese du Maurier, the Duchess de Montfort, was being carried over the shoulder of the First Mate, Pete. She had stopped struggling early in the journey; a few good smacks on her bottom through her linen caftan had taken care of that. After about twenty minutes they stopped and put her on her feet. She briefly contemplated running, but with her hands tied behind her and the four pirates so close she knew there was no point. Instead she yelled, hoping to bring assistance from one of Captain Antoine Renoir’s crew who might be in the area. “Aidez-m…,”she barely got a sound out before Pete clamped his hand over her mouth. “Nice try, m’lady, but there ain’t a person to hear ya’ within a half-mile,” he said. “Gag her anyway, Pete,” said Hutton. “Let’s not take any chances.” Pete stuffed a piece of cloth in her mouth, then tied a twisted kerchief around her lower face to hold it in place. He untied her hands, but held them securely as he retied them in front before attaching a four-foot length of rope to the bonds. Now she could walk the rest of the way without him having to worry about her crying out or making a break for freedom. The group continued, Therese being pulled along, until they reached the edge of the forest. Here they stopped before emerging from the cover of the woods. Across the sand sat the rowboat they had used to come ashore, but caution dictated that they scout the beach from hiding before revealing themselves. Satisfied that the way was clear, they crossed the distance to the shore, placed Therese on a seat and pushed the boat into the water as they hopped in. Therese sat still, afraid that if she fell overboard with her hands tied she would drown. Once out in deep water, Pete removed her gag, and with no place for her to go he also removed the bonds from her wrists. As the boat was rowed out of the cove and into open water the sloop Fortune Hunter came into view. As they approached, a man on watch threw a rope ladder over the side and they secured the boat. “Up you go, darling,” Hutton said as he placed his hands on her waist and gave her a boost up the ladder. Wearing her thin slippers she was a bit unsure of her footing, but she held on and managed to climb up to the deck, with Hutton following right behind her in case she slipped. At the top the crewman offered his hand and pulled her up. Soon the others were on board and the ladder was pulled up. “Bring up the dinghy. We’ll sail soon,” Hutton ordered. “This is a fine bit of treasure, Captain,” the man said, looking Therese up and down. The caftan Bella had given her was intended for sleeping in the warm Caribbean nights and only covered her legs to mid-thigh. The scooped neck revealed the swell of the French girl’s generous bosom. “And I ain’t never seen eyes that green before,” said another crewman. “Ay, Davy, she’s a tasty morsel indeed,” the Captain replied. “Let the men know that she’ll be on deck to meet them for an hour until we set sail.” ‘Meet them?’ thought Therese. What did he mean by that? Noticing a bucket of water with a dipper hanging on the side, Therese asked if she might have a drink. “Of course, m’lady,” Hutton said as he offered her the dipper. She drank deeply and filled the ladle twice more and drained it. She handed it back to the Captain as she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. Hutton took Therese’s arm and led her over to the mainmast. The base of the mast was mounted in the center of a raised platform, onto which he lifted the French aristocrat. He pulled her arms over her head and tied her wrists to a black iron ring attached to the tall timber. Word had traveled fast, and men were already assembling on deck. They were a nasty-looking group, at least as coarse and brutal as the four in the raiding party. The young Duchess was terrified, afraid she would be seriously hurt by these men. Hutton seemed to know what she was thinking, because he leaned close and said to her, “Don’t worry, m’lady. You’re too valuable to us as a prize for the market in Port Royal for me to let any permanent harm come to you. But you will be trained for service on this journey.” His words held no comfort for the captive aristocrat. Unsure exactly what he meant by ‘trained for service’ she was trembling as the men gathered around the platform. They were beginning to move closer, staring up at the bound beauty. “Easy, men. We’re taking her to Port Royal for sale at the slave market. She’ll bring a pretty price, especially after we teach her a trick or two.” “I could teach her all by myself, Captain!” said one of the brutes as he reached up and placed his hand on her calf. Therese cringed and tried to pull away. “Me, too. I’ll teach her how to use that mouth like a good slave!” said another. “Truth be told she already knows how to use that mouth quite well, lads,” laughed Pete. “True enough, men. She’ll balk at first, but once she really gets started she’s hotter than a cannon after the battle,” said Hutton. “No, please! Don’t do this, don’t hurt me, please!” begged the frightened girl. “Let’s just have a good look at her for now, men. We have to get underway before that scum Renoir comes looking for her.” “You took her from Renoir?” asked one of the men, sounding a little unsure now. “She says she’s one of his women, but she doesn’t bear his mark. I think he must have captured her recently and hadn’t had time,” the Captain explained. “That’s why we can sell her at Port Royal. But we’ll have plenty of time for fun on the way!” “A fine plan indeed, Captain. We get to enjoy the slut and still make some gold,” one of the men said. “With the other wenches we’re holding this should be a very profitable journey, Captain,” said Pete. ‘Other wenches?’ thought Therese, realizing they must have other women on board to sell as slaves. Hutton said to Pete, “Yes, my friend. Those whores have taken the training well. There isn’t one doesn’t beg for cock when she’s supposed to.” “Mon Dieu!” Therese gasped. “You can’t do this! Let me go, I swear you can receive ransom for me!” “Believe me, Lady. We will get plenty for you and the others at the slave market, and without the risk of trying to exchange you for ransom.” Therese pulled at the bonds over her head, but they were secure. She looked around at the scurvy lot as they moved closer. Hutton drew the dagger from his belt and brought the sharp edge close to Therese’s cleavage as he made a cut in the neckline of the caftan. He then pulled the fabric apart, ripping it down to her waist and baring her naked breasts to the hungry crew. The men were making sounds of appreciation and commenting on the lovely mounds. “By Satan’s beard, those are the finest apples this side of Jamaica!” exclaimed one of the men as he saw Therese’s pink nipples beginning to harden. “I doubt you’ve ever seen apples that size, mate,” commented another. Hutton tore the fabric the rest of the way down to the bottom, and the front of the caftan was completely open. Therese squeezed her legs together to protect her sex from their eyes, but with her pubic hair gone they could clearly see the top of her slit peaking out from between her thighs. Two men grabbed her calves and pulled her legs apart, exposing the full nakedness of her shaved pussy. Hutton ripped the remains of her caftan away, leaving her stark naked before the mob of fiendish outlaws, her hands tied above her and her legs spread wide. Hutton lifted one of her breasts, squeezing and hefting it as if to show it off to the men. She squirmed and tried to twist away from his touch, but it was no use. He ran his hand down her belly and over her hairless mound, sliding it between her legs and stroking the inside of her thighs. The young Duchess had her eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see the faces of the men who were watching her torment. She whimpered in a barely audible voice, “S’il vous plait, monsieur! Laissez-moi tranquille!” Hutton ignored her pleas. When he pinched her nipples, pulling and twisting the sensitive nubs, she gasped, “No, please, don’t touch me!” and suddenly opened her eyes to see the dozens of brutal faces staring intently at her suffering. Strands of her disheveled auburn hair hung down in front of her face. Seeing all these men, these hard cruel criminals, looking at her bound naked body, her legs forced apart so that they could clearly see her shaved pussy lips, she realized she was completely at their mercy. They would do whatever they wanted to her, and she was powerless to stop them. Feelings of helplessness and surrender began to overwhelm her will to resist. Recent experience had taught her that it was hopeless for her to try to defy them. Her body would betray her, like it had before, and she would become a wanton slut pleading for them to use her for their filthy purposes. She was weak, and sinful, and deserved to be used like a whore for their lust. She continued to stare back at them, no longer avoiding their hard gazes. If they wanted to look at her, let them look. If they wanted to fuck her, let them. If they forced her to suck their vile cocks, then so be it. She would fuck, and suck, and wallow in lust until she was defiled and degraded, just as she deserved. Feeling that she had nothing to lose anymore, Therese looked at the filthy brutes and threw all caution to the wind. With her mouth still moist from the water she had just drunk, she gathered as much saliva as she could and spat it at their staring faces. “Pigs! Dogs! Merdaille! Fils a putain!” she screamed at them, using every vile word she had heard but had never used in her sheltered life. Seeing the beautiful Duchess, bound and naked, spitting and cursing, brought howls of laughter from the depraved brutes. Hutton was holding a flexible little whip about two feet long, with a flap of leather on the end. He silenced her tirade with a flick of the wrist as he struck a quick, stinging blow on her naked breast. It brought a shocked gasp from the French girl as she stared in terror at the black leather riding crop. He hit her again, on the belly, right over her pretty navel. She shrieked and twisted, pulling at the rope that held her wrists, almost wrenching free of the men who held her legs as the crew yelled encouragement. “Hit her again, Captain!” “Let her have it, Jack!” “Make the wench dance!” The leather flap made sharp cracks as Hutton peppered the naked girl with smacks on her thighs, belly and beautiful breasts. The firm globes shook and trembled as she thrashed about in response to the painful slaps. The heartless brute even aimed some of the blows directly onto the puffy pink tips of the sweet girl’s lovely breast flesh, causing her aureoles to swell and her nipples to harden. When she was glowing pink from shoulders to knees the men holding her ankles traded legs as they turned her around so that her smooth back and perfect round ass were facing the men. They pulled her feet back so that she had to step farther away from the mast, forcing her to bend over as the rope pulled on her arms. Now the lovely globes of her full round bottom were presented to the stares of the vile ruffians. With her legs held apart, her sweet shaved cunt was fully exposed. The sight of the plump, hairless lips and moist open slit inflamed the pirates’ lust, and several had unbuttoned their flies and were stroking their hard cocks. To the delight of the men she was made to squirm and wiggle her rear as Hutton beat her on the ass with the black crop. She was screaming and begging, pleading for mercy. “Oh! OW! Mon Dieu! S’il vous plait! Arretez! Je vous en prie! AAAHHH!!” Hutton ignored her pleas, working to break the beautiful noblewoman’s spirit in preparation for the slave-training to come. Finally he stopped and stuck the crop in his belt. Her ass was bright pink from the whipping, and he ran his hands over her cheeks and felt the heat of her racing blood. As the men watched, he slid his hand between her spread legs and cupped her bare pussy. The sobbing princess was helpless to resist as he stroked the tender slit, feeling the soaking wetness that betrayed her arousal. Using two hands, he spread her ass open, showing her pink puckered bottom hole to the horny crew. He pulled her open harder, spreading her pussy lips apart so the pirate crew could see how wet she was. “Look at the slut. She’s dripping with juice!” laughed one of the men. “A perfect slave! She gets wet when you beat her!” “Noooo! Please, I can’t help it!” moaned the quivering beauty. “Please don’t do this, I beg you!” “Oh, God,” thought Therese, “what is the matter with me? He beat me in front of these monsters and I can’t stop myself from getting wet.” As the men stared at her wet, open pussy Hutton rubbed his fingers over her erect clit, causing her to groan and wiggle her hips involuntarily. More sweet cream seeped from her clenching hole, trickled over her twitching clit and ran down the insides of her thighs in glistening trails. The aroma of the young woman’s hot pussy drifted to the buccaneers on the sultry Caribbean air. Hutton slid a finger into her steaming pussy hole, and she was unable to stop herself from thrusting back to drive the probing digit deeper. She groaned again, shame and arousal feeding off each other and driving her insane with submissive lust. Therese suddenly became aware of a growing pressure in her bladder, adding the fear that she would wet herself in front of these horrible degenerates. Hutton removed his hand from her pussy and gestured to the men holding her ankles to turn her around. Once again the helpless captive was facing the crew, looking into the faces of these heartless beasts. She moaned in shame, wishing she had her back to them so that she did not have to see their lustful stares. Her body glistened with perspiration, tendrils of auburn hair sticking to her face. Her discomfort at the sight of the crew was interrupted when at Hutton’s gesture one of the men lifted her left leg and held it out to the side. Now she was standing on only one foot, her weight pulling on the rope connecting her hands to the ring over her head. Her crotch was now spread to the limit, her pussy wide open and juice running down the inside of her leg. When Hutton drew the riding crop from his belt she shrieked and began to plead and beg. “Oh, no! No, no, no! Please don’t! You can’t. You wouldn’t. No, please, no! Oh sir, I beg you in the name of all that is holy!” babbled the terrified princess. The one-eyed pirate only smiled as the men urged him on. “Do it, Jack!” “Whip her cunt!” “Give her the crop right on that tight pussy, Cap!” The Duchess de Montfort was sobbing and yanking at the ropes over her head, trying desperately to get loose before he hit her on the unbearably tender flesh of her young pussy. He took his time, flicking the short whip through the air, causing it to make a swishing noise and drawing out her anticipation of the pain to come. When he landing a quick smack on her thigh she shrieked, thinking he was going to hit her pussy. The men laughed at her screams, and Hutton delayed the inevitable moment by striking several blows on her thighs and bouncing breasts, drawing out her torment to the delight of the pirate crew. The sweating, crying young woman was near hysteria when Hutton finally did it. The crop whistled through the air and the leather tip struck the open flesh of her swollen pussy with a wet smack. Her shrieks rolled over the blue water surrounding the ship, mixed with the cheers of the sadistic crew. “Again. Cap.” “Yeah, give her another.” “OH GOD NO!” screamed the tormented Duchess as the crop whistled again and made contact with her abused pussy flesh, hitting her erect clit and sending a jolt of electricity through her nervous system. When the demonic pirate struck the third time, the poor girl lost control of her bladder. As the piss arced from between her spread legs in a shimmering yellow stream the men howled with laughter, pointing and applauding. Some of them made obscene barking noises, as if she was a bitch dog. As the hot liquid ran down her leg and splashed onto the deck of the pirate ship she knew her humiliation was complete. A few of the filthy bastards even stuck out their hands to try to catch some of the water, rubbing it on the beautiful woman’s leg. As her raised left leg was released Therese sagged in her bonds, completely defeated and degraded. She hung from her bound arms, knees bent. A trickle of saliva ran over her full lower lip and down her noble chin. Her thighs were wet with her own piss. And the worst part of it was that through the haze of humiliation and pain, the beautiful French duchess was dimly aware that she desired nothing more than to have one of these horrible men, it didn’t even matter who, shove his hard cock into her swollen, soaked pussy and fuck her to a screaming orgasm right in front of the whole vile crew. A faint whisper came from her slack lips, and Hutton leaned closer. “I can’t hear you, wench, speak louder,” he said. In a small voice, hoarse from screaming, she whispered again, “Baisez-moi.” “What? Louder, slut!” “S’il te plait, baisez-moi!” croaked the conquered beauty. “Take me! Please fuck me!” Cheers and howls of laughter rang out from the crew as they heard the words of abject surrender from the beaten girl. Hutton pressed his hand against her dripping pussy and roughly rubbed the tender flesh. She gasped, voluntarily spreading her legs to give him access to her throbbing sex flesh. “Well, lads, I told you she was a cannon when you get her started.” Then, as he wiped his wet hand on her disheveled hair he said, “Fret not, Lady. You’ll have plenty of cocks to enjoy before we reach our next port.” “Clean her up and take her below, Davy. Put her in a cell. We’ll get back to her when we’re well under way, men.” There were groans of disappointment from the excited crowd, but they knew the wisdom of putting some sea behind them in case Renoir decided to come after his property. They hadn’t been ordered to their stations yet, so they lingered to watch Davy wash the quivering beauty. One of the men brought over a full water bucket. Reaching in, Davy lifted a sea sponge heavy with water and squeezed it out over her chest. Therese gasped as the cool water flowed over her throbbing breasts and down her belly. It soothed her flushed skin, and she welcomed the relief as he began to wash her from the neck down. He sponged water onto her shoulders, breasts and back, rubbing her down like an animal. He stroked the sponge firmly over her fevered body, rubbing it over her thighs and between her legs. Finally he lifted the bucket and poured the water over her head, rinsing her off and drenching her long auburn hair. Two: Below Deck As the First Mate barked orders and the men scrambled to set sail, Davy cut the ropes holding Therese’s arms. He caught her around the waist as she sagged, and wrapping a blanket around her he hefted the trembling princess over his shoulder, her succulent bottom in the air. Lifting the hatch he made his way below decks, and as he stepped off the ladder and into a narrow corridor with her still over his shoulder, he could not resist taking a moment to fondle her sweet behind. Slipping his hand under the blanket he squeezed the lush cheeks, running his fingers along the crack, over her ass pucker and down between the wet lips of her shaved pussy. The captive girl moaned as he played with her slit, pummeling her clit and teasing the entrance to her tight hole. He slipped his finger into the slippery channel, and she surprised him by opening her legs wider in response. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 03 But he had a task to perform. Resisting the urge to fuck her right there he placed her down on her feet, supporting her until he was sure she could stand on her own. She looked up at him hopefully, wanting release from the intense arousal she was feeling, uncertain what he intended to do with her. The buccaneer took her wrist and began to lead her down the corridor, the blanket over her shoulders the only cover for her nakedness. On either side were cabins, but with doors made of wide-spaced wooden slats, giving them the appearance of cells. As they passed the first one, Therese gasped at what she saw inside. There was a naked, blonde woman, bound on some sort of torture device. It was a large wooden ‘X’, tilted back slightly so that she rested against it. Each of her arms was tied to one of the upper members, and her legs were spread and tied to the lower part. She had metal rings in her nipples, and taut ropes extending from the ceiling were tied to the rings, pulling on the tender flesh and causing her breasts to be obscenely stretched. Her eyes opened wide as she saw Therese and Davy, and she moaned, “Please help me. Please, I beg you.” Although she was speaking English, she had an accent that Therese recognized as Scandinavian. Therese looked at the girl, and then back to Davy. “A little Danish prize we collected on St. Croix,” he said. “Mon Dieu!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing to her?” “She is being trained, m’lady. As you will be.” “She is suffering. You must let her go,” Therese implored him. “I don’t think that’s what she wants. Ask her yourself,” he suggested. “You poor thing,” Therese said. “Are you in pain?” “Please,” the girl begged, “please touch my pussy!” “What?” gasped Therese. “What are you saying?” Therese looked more closely at the tied Danish girl, and realized that she had a large dildo inserted in her blonde pussy. It was held in place with a rope that ran between her legs and up around her waist. “I need help! I need to come! Please, I can’t stand it anymore. My pussy is on fire! Just touch my clit, that’s all I need. Just rub my clit a little and let me come!” she pleaded. Davy laughed at the look of shock on Therese’s face. He took her wrist again and drew her along the corridor. “Come on,” he said, “meet our other guests.” The next cell held a young woman bound in a position that looked extremely uncomfortable. She was on her back with her legs bent over a wooden bar. Her knees were tied to the bar and pulled back until they rested on her shoulders, with her wrists fastened to the ends of the bar. She was obscenely exposed, her shaved pussy and anus prominently displayed. Clamps had been attached to her labia and tied to the bar, so that her sex was held wide open. A stream of juice was leaking from her pussy and running down over her ass pucker. Therese could see her clit protruding from the top of her swollen lips. A ball-shaped gag had been inserted in her mouth that forced that orifice open also. Unable to speak, the girl simply moaned as her eyes pleaded for release. In the next cell was a young dark-haired woman bound on her hands and knees, her middle supported on a leather-covered stool. Her arms were tied to rings in the floor, and constricting ropes were tied around the base of each hanging breast. The generous mammary globes were red with congestion of blood, and her nipples were long and swollen. Ropes around her knees held her legs spread exceedingly wide, and large dildoes were inserted in her shaved sex and in her bottom. Even from several feet away Therese could see her thighs were glistening with wetness that had dripped down from her spread pussy. The woman was turned so that her rear was toward them, but she heard their steps approach. “Who is that?” the captive woman asked in a Spanish accent, straining to try to catch a glimpse of the visitors. “Can you help me? Por favor, whoever you are, help me. Please fuck me! I need you to fuck me! Just move the dildoes, fuck me with the dildoes!” To Therese’s amazement she realized that white fluid was dripping from the ends of the woman’s engorged breasts. She turned to her jailer and gasped, “Is that…is she…?” “Milk? Yes it is. She was a wet nurse for a wealthy family on Hispaniola. Now she will be sold as a milk-slave. Quite valuable, that one.” He pushed open the door and entered the cell, walking over to the helpless woman as Therese stared. He grasped the dildo in her pussy and began to move it around. “Gracias, gracias. Follame mas fuerte!” the desperate girl moaned, thinking he intended to relieve her suffering. But instead of fucking her harder, he stopped just as she was beginning to move her ass. “No, please, don’t stop!” she begged. The heartless pirate only laughed, and reaching down he firmly slapped her taut, bound tits. White droplets sprayed from the ends of her tortured breasts, splashing onto the floor. He smacked her hard on her bottom and returned to Therese, closing the door. “Mon Dieu” moaned Therese. “This is dreadful! How could you do this to these poor women?” “We are simply preparing them for the life of a sex slave; the life they will have after we sell them at Port Royal.” “Please, don’t do this to me. I’m begging you. Let me go, I promise you ransom.” “Come along,” he said, ignoring her offer. At the end of the corridor he pushed open the door of a cell and motioned Therese to enter. The only light was from a tiny porthole, and it revealed a long table, the padded surface covered with leather. After lighting several oil lamps around the room, he took the blanket from Therese and told her to lie on her back on the table. Reaching down along one of the legs he brought up a leather manacle fastened to the table with a short iron chain. The manacle was buckled around Therese’s wrist, then he did the same with her other hand, attaching it to the other corner. He then repeated the process with her ankles. She was naked and secured spread-eagle to the table. The pirate reached between her spread legs and stroked her moist, shaved pussy with one hand, while pinching her nipple with the other. A small gasp escaped her full lips. “As much as I would love to stay and entertain you, I must return to my other duties. Bonjour, mademoiselle,” he said. With that he closed the door, returning to the action on deck. As the sails filled and the vessel creaked and swayed, Therese du Maurier lay on the table and awaited her fate. Three: The Training Master After about an hour, Therese heard footsteps in the corridor and the door to her cell opened. Having had some time to contemplate her situation and what she had seen of the other captives, the young Duchess was terrified. She didn’t recognize the man standing there. He held a small cloth bag, and approached the table. “What are you going to do? Please don’t hurt me,” she begged. His eyes traveled the length of her body, taking in her nakedness as if studying her. With her legs forced apart by her bonds, her bare pussy was fully exposed. She felt so open and vulnerable, frightened by what he might do to her. The man opened the bag and withdrew a small flask. Removing the cork he poured some liquid into his palm and put the flask down on the table. When he placed his hand on her quivering belly she gasped at the touch. Slowly he began to move his hand over her taught tummy, spreading the fluid over her silky skin. It was oil, and he proceeded to rub it over her body, adding more from the bottle as he covered her from neck to feet. As he worked he kneaded her flesh, rubbing and massaging her deeply. Therese had been anticipating some form of torture, and the gentle, soothing massage was completely unexpected. Her flesh was aching from the whipping she had received on deck, and she closed her eyes and welcomed the attention as he rubbed her shoulders and breasts, his oily fingers gliding over her hard nipples. After several minutes of pressing and rubbing her breasts, he moved down to her belly and legs. When he massaged the insides of her spread thighs she could feel herself moistening, and was embarrassed that he would notice. By the time he unhooked the chains holding her arms and legs in place, Therese was quite relaxed. He rolled her over onto her belly, and although she made no attempt to escape he still reattached the chains to the table legs. He worked on her back and shoulder muscles, applying oil down to her waist, and along her legs, again stroking her thighs to the tops, but stopping short of touching her pussy. Now Therese was so stimulated that she wished he would touch her there, her earlier unfulfilled arousal adding to her discomfort. She began to gently move her hips, lifting her bottom to the extent that her bonds permitted and hoping to get him to touch her leaking pussy. He didn’t accept the invitation, but began to massage her firm bottom cheeks, squeezing the full round globes, pressing them together and spreading them apart, pulling open her ass cheeks to reveal her shaved, dripping pussy and puckered little bottom hole. Suddenly he smacked his open palm down on her succulent rear, causing her to shriek with surprise. He slapped her bottom again, and again. After the initial shock Therese began to respond to the spanking, lifting her ass and moaning with each blow. He continued to spank her, slapping her ass and making the round cheeks red and warm. The man then poured some oil into the spread crack and rubbed it in, lubricating the deep crevice and brushing his fingers over her sensitive anus. Therese let out a little moan as he touched her asshole, and groaned louder when she felt him press the tip of his finger into the tight, oil-slickened grommet. As he slid more of the slippery digit into her bottom, she began to roll her hips and press back against his hand. She was losing herself in the sensation of having her asshole manipulated when she heard footsteps outside the cell. The door opened and Therese was suddenly mortified to have someone come into the room while the masseur was playing with her naked derriere. He removed his finger as she tried to look over her shoulder, but she could not see who it was. “So, how’s it going with our lady fair, Smitty?” he said, and Therese recognized the voice of Black Jack Hutton. “Fine, Cap’n, just fine. You were right. The wench seems to take great pleasure in her generous behind.” Therese groaned with embarrassment at the comment, but she knew it was true. “Indeed,” said Hutton, “you should have seen her spend with a cock up her ass.” Therese’s face was crimson with shame, and wished she could shrink into the table and disappear as the men coldly discussed her sexual behavior as if she wasn’t present. “Well, Cap, given what you might call her ‘special talent’, I would say let’s take advantage of that in the training.” “My sentiments exactly. A properly trained anal slave brings a hefty premium in Port Royal. I’d like to watch if you don’t mind,” said Jack. “Not at all,” he replied. “You can help if you’d like.” “My pleasure,” said the Captain. Smitty grasped her oily buttocks in his large hands and spread her open to reveal that the delicate pink petals of her inner labia had blossomed wide open. “You can see how wet she is,” he said, the two men staring at the steady trickle of pussy nectar that ran down her swollen slit to form a sexy little puddle on the leather surface of the table. “Now watch what happens when I play with her asshole.” Therese was mortified by the casual way he opened her for inspection and commented on her state of arousal, but she was helpless to do anything about it. As Smitty rubbed his finger around the puffy little rim of her anus, a soft groan slipped from her throat before she could suppress it. As he slid the digit back inside her bottom the lovely French aristocrat bit her lip to try to stifle any more pleasure noises and avoid further humiliation. He worked the finger deep into her bottom, wiggling it around inside her slick ass tunnel, then moving it in and out, fucking her ass with his finger. Unable to resist, she began to push back against the invader, raising her hips and rotating her ass as she had before Jack entered the cell. “Look at her cunt,” said Smitty. “The more you use her ass the wetter she gets.” “What a slut,” Jack commented. “Oh, noooo! Please stop! This is so cruel. S’il vous plait, monsieur! I don’t want this,” she begged. But her moving hips belied her words. “Don’t want that? How about this?” Smitty taunted as he added a second finger, moving the thick probe around in her tight bottom. Betrayed by her aroused body, Therese was unable to hold back the moans of pleasure. She groaned deeply as he twisted the fingers inside her stretched ass. As she pushed back against Smitty’s hand, Jack smacked her bottom cheeks, slapping her hard. She gasped at the sudden pain, but continued to moan as he spanked her behind. With her eyes closed and the side of her face pressed against the table, a trickle of saliva ran from the corner of her open mouth onto the leather. Suddenly the spanking stopped, and she felt the fingers withdraw from her bottom. She felt disappointed, and wanted the feeling back, but she was still too proud to ask. She felt a hand pressing on the small of her back, to prevent her moving, and then the feeling of fingers in her ass crevice. “What are you doing? Please don’t!” she pleaded as she felt something being pushed inside her oily bottom hole. Her sphincter stretched as the round object entered her back passage and then closed around it. But this was soon followed by another, and another. Smitty was inserting a series of one-inch beads into her ass, the smooth onyx balls knotted together by a leather thong. She held her breath, unsure what to expect as her rectum filled with the foreign objects. Soon the little ring of muscle closed over the last one, and all eight beads were sheathed in the whimpering girl’s delicious rear. Smitty took hold of the long end of the string hanging from her asshole and gave it a light pull, only hard enough to cause the last bead to press against her sphincter from the inside. He repeatedly jerked gently on the thong, and the two men watched Therese’s sweet butt-hole bulge out with each tug. The feeling was strange and yet highly stimulating, and soon she was moaning again as they played with her. But she was completely unprepared for what came next. Unseen by the captive princess, Smitty had picked up a short whip. It had a thick handle at one end and a dozen foot-long leather strings at the other, each with a knot in the end. Suddenly he brought the punishing lash down on her naked bottom and she screamed in shock. The blow did not break the skin, but the knots left bright red streaks on her perfect globes. Although it stung her painfully, she realized she was not being seriously injured. As earlier, when Jack had used the riding crop on her in front of the crew, the flogging made her feel completely conquered and even more aroused. He waited for her to calm down, then began to tug on the string again, stimulating her ass from the inside. Finally, he pulled the cord a little harder, causing her sphincter to stretch as one of the beads popped out of her ass, accompanied by a gasp and a moan from the helpless girl as the open hole closed back around the string. Again he brought the lash down on her rear, and again she screamed. Then he jerked the string of beads to stimulate her bottom hole again, and popped another ball out. The conflicting feelings of pain, subjugation and intense anal pleasure combined to make the beautiful slave-princess delirious with excitement. She was moaning and squirming, pulling on the shackles that bound her. As she struggled she pressed her smooth mound against the leather-covered table, desperately trying to stimulate her inflamed clit. The silken shaved skin slid around in the collected pussy juice that was pouring from her slit in a steady stream. As Smitty continued to work on her bottom, Jack moved around to the other end of the table. Opening the sash around his waist he let his trousers drop to the floor and stepped out of them. His cock was long and semi-erect, rapidly hardening as he enjoyed the spectacle of the stunning French noblewoman driven into a quivering sexual frenzy. He twisted his fingers in her hair and pulled her face to the edge of the table, causing her to open her eyes. When she saw his thick cock inches from her face, she opened her lips wide to invite him to put it in her mouth. He held it back, and she stuck out her tongue and licked at the air as she tried to reach for the rod of hot male flesh. He touched the tip to her lips briefly and pulled it away, leaving a drop of clear pre-cum glistening on her lower lip. Her little pink tongue licked out and gathered the moisture, drawing it in and savoring the musky male taste as she looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, give me your cock! Put it in my mouth; I want to suck you!” Therese begged. He obliged by moving closer and sliding his erect dick into her lips. The heat of her mouth closed over the throbbing head, and he moaned in pleasure as he felt her tongue licking at the sensitive underside. Cockjuice trickled over her tongue and ran to the back of her throat as she swallowed eagerly. Bound as she was she did not have much freedom to move her head, so he thrust into her face, fucking her in the mouth. She welcomed it, groaning around his cock as saliva and pre-cum drooled from her lips onto the leather. The fat cockhead repeatedly bumped against the back of her throat, and her nostrils flared as she was forced to breathe through her nose. Even when Smitty struck her succulent bottom again with the whip she didn’t stop sucking, and when he pulled on the beads and stretched her asshole she sucked even harder, slurping and moaning. After she had received eight lashes and the last bead had been pulled from her throbbing ass, the little pucker was puffy and stayed slightly dilated from being repeatedly stretched. Before it had a chance to fully close, Smitty took up another object. It was a smooth leather-covered butt plug, of a conical shape with a narrow constriction and a flat, circular base. Therese was so absorbed in the intensity of her cock feast that she was only dimly aware that Smitty was inserting something else in her behind. She thought it was the beads again until she felt it expand her hole farther than before. As the leather plug slid into her relaxed and oiled anus the muscle stretched to an extent she had not experienced before, despite the variety of abuse that orifice had experienced in recent days. She stopped sucking, and her eyes opened wide as the sphincter spread around the obscene object until the widest part was poised to enter her body. With her mouth filled and her lips stretched tightly around the cockshaft only a faint whimper escaped her throat as she feared her ass would be torn by the device. But when he pushed it in another half-inch it passed the widest part and the ring of muscle retracted around the narrow constriction behind the cone. Now the plug was firmly ensconced in Therese’s ass, held securely in place by the grip of her own sphincter. Only the flat base remained outside her bottom to indicate the presence of the butt-plug. When she had adjusted to this latest abuse she resumed sucking Jack’s dick. Although Smitty was confident that the captive girl was now enjoying herself too much to attempt escape, he nonetheless locked the door of the cell before he walked around releasing her chains from their anchors on the table legs. Freed from her bonds, Therese rolled onto her side, still wearing the leather manacles, the chains dangling from her wrists and ankles. She lost no time in grabbing Jack’s fat cock in one hand and cupping his balls with the other, then she licked along the thick shaft to the base, lapping at his balls and sucking them into her drooling mouth. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 03 Since boarding the vessel, the abuse that the Duchess du Maurier had suffered at the hands of these villains only seemed to heighten her sexual arousal. The men in charge of her recognized the signs; she was a natural sex slave, a woman who at her very core desired to be used roughly by men who cared nothing for her pleasure or her comfort. They had seen it before in women of status and rank, princesses who wanted to be treated like lusty wenches. These women had spent their pampered and protected lives surrounded by weak, timid men and they dreamt of forbidden liaisons with dashing and dangerous characters. Raised in devout and pious instruction, they yearned to be taken without their permission, to be forced to experience sexual pleasure free from the guilt that their consent would cause them. Now Therese was wild with excitement. She had been subjected to unspeakable sexual torments; handled in the most intimate ways in front of the crew, beaten and humiliated. Her sensitive bottom had been whipped and probed, and was now filled with an obscene foreign object. The feeling of being opened and stretched was indecent and immoral, and breathtakingly erotic. Through all this she had been brought repeatedly to the height of arousal but denied release. She was desperate for a climax, and so close she was almost there. Jack looked down at the lovely French aristocrat with his one good eye as she pulled his hard cock from her mouth and rubbed it all over her face, kissing the shaft, nipping at the foreskin with her lips. He watched the lust-crazed girl worship his cock, tendrils of her tousled auburn hair plastered to her face. She worked her tongue around the head, seeking more masculine juice by probing the little slit in the end with the tip of her tongue, delving under the collar of foreskin to seek out the manly fluid. Her efforts were nearly frantic, eager for him to come and flood her hungry mouth with thick musky sperm. He reached for the puffy pink tips of her large taut breasts and pinched them between his fingers, pulling and twisting the nipples and adding to her erotic torment. She moaned and writhed, rubbing her moist thighs together in an attempt to stimulate her pussy as she felt the pressure of the fat butt plug filling her hot bottom. But she needed more than that to bring her over the edge, she needed someone to touch her pussy. She wanted them to fuck her, to shove a hard fat dick into her weeping empty pussy hole and fill her belly. Even to have him rub the head of his cock on her screaming clit would do it, that would be enough. Pulling the wet pole of cock meat from her lips she groaned, “Please, monsieur, baisez-moi! Fuck me, put your cock inside me, I beg you!” “By Morgan’s beard, Cap’n, she is sure a willing slut,” chuckled Smitty at her desperation. He gripped the base of the butt plug and twisted it around in her succulent bottom, making her whimper and suck harder on Jack’s drooling cockhead. “Aye, it’s tempting to stick it to the wench, ain’t it Smitty? But we have to make her suffer until she’s mad with the need for cock, just like with the other girls.” “No, no,” gasped Therese, “Please don’t do that. I want you to fuck me, I’m giving my permission!” Both bandits laughed at the idea that her consent had any influence whatsoever on their actions. “You can take me any way you wish, please. Fuck my pussy or my ass, anything you want, please!” she begged. “Get my cock back in your mouth, slave, and do a good job sucking. Then we’ll see what you may have,” commanded Jack. Without hesitation she plunged her mouth over his dick, slurping and moaning around the swollen rod of flesh in a desperate attempt to win his favor. She shoved her head down hard on the pole until it bumped the back of her throat, then she stuck her tongue forward and relaxed her throat muscles until the fat cockhead began to advance. She had swallowed pirate cock before, in Renoir’s dungeon, and she knew how much it pleased these men. As she took Jack’s hard-on down her gullet she heard the buccaneer groan at the sensation of her throat muscles working on his member. “Well, will ya’ lookie there, Cap. The harlot swallows cock with the best of ‘em!” “By god, man. She’s like to suck it off my body if I let her,” Jack moaned. He twisted his fingers in her beautiful red hair and held her head steady as he started to fuck her throat. She had lost control of the situation, if she had had any at all, and was now a passive receptacle for his thrusts. He had done something similar to her on the island, but without using her throat. As before she found the helpless feeling of being used this way only added to her lust, but the fact that his hard cock was in her throat was even more depraved and thrilling. She cupped his balls with one hand and pinched and twisted her own swollen nipples with the other, eager for him to pour his seed into her mouth. She hoped he would pull out of her throat before he came, so that she could taste the hot juice coating her tongue. Hutton moaned louder, nearing his climax, and he did indeed pull back from her throat as his cock started to jerk. The first spurt washed over her tongue and filled her throat, and she swallowed eagerly. The fat rod filled her mouth, and her stretched lips formed a tight seal around the shaft so that the hot come could not leak out. Again his fat cock jerked, and again she tried to swallow the pungent sperm, but it was filling her mouth faster than she could swallow. With no place else to go, his seed filled her throat and backed up into her nasal passages, running from both her nostrils. Not wanting to suffocate this valuable property, he pulled his cock from her lips as he continued shooting ropes of hot pirate jizz into her mouth and over her face. Streamers draped her noble features and streaked her perfect skin, gobs filling her mouth and drooling from her lips. She wrapped her sperm-soiled fingers around the shaft and pulled it to her mouth so that she could suck on the end as his climax ebbed. She nursed on the purple head, gulping at the weakened trickle that ran over her tongue and down her throat. Therese rubbed the prickhead around on her face, spreading the accumulated come and licking it off the end of his cock. Turning onto her back she spread her long legs wide, showing her shaved and swollen pussy to the two men. “Fuck me, please. Fuck me now,” she pleaded, looking at Smitty as he stood at the end of the table. “Not yet, me beauty, not just yet,” Smitty said. Therese looked confused, as if she could not understand why he would not fuck her. Jack pulled up his trousers and tied the sash while Smitty wiped her face with a rag. Then the two pirates pulled her off the table and over to another part of the room. On the floor was a curved leather object that looked somewhat like a saddle. In the center was a raised knob, about two inches in diameter and only about three inches high. They placed her on the saddle and lowered her down until the short, thick dildo was poised at the entrance to her inflamed pussy hole. The butt plug was still in her ass, and it pressed on her vaginal canal creating a tight fit for the saddle-dildo as they slowly lowered her down, impaling the poor girl’s gushing pussy on the thick prong. She was gasping as she felt her tight hole stretch to accommodate the intrusion, the objects that filled her holes pressing together through the thin wall of flesh that separated her vagina from her anal canal. On the sides of the saddle were leather straps, which the men fastened around her thighs and drew tight, so that she was held fast and unable to squirm or fuck herself with the dildo. The fat prong stretched her hole enough to stimulate her aching pussy, but it was too short to provide the deep penetration she needed. Therese’s engorged clit protruded from the top of her sweet slit, her position on the saddle not allowing any contact for the twitching bundle of nerves. Her pussy and ass were filled full, but she was unable to achieve even a tiny bit of friction for any part of the swollen flesh between her legs. Attached to the floor about three feet on either side of the kneeling beauty were short poles, each with an iron ring fastened to the top. The men pulled her arms out to the sides and secured the chains on her wrist cuffs to the rings. She was once again completely helpless; naked and held immobile, her holes violated in the most humiliating way. And she was still desperate for sexual release; aroused, whimpering, pussy cream running down her thighs and the sides of the leather saddle. “Oh, God, please. What are you going to do to me now? Please have mercy, I can’t take this any more. Please release me. Let me come, I need to come so badly! I beg you in the name of the Blessed Virgin don’t torture me like this!” the suffering princess whimpered, hoping to arouse some pity in the heartless villains. But her pleas fell on deaf ears as the buccaneers left the room without responding. Four: More Visitors A few minutes later Smitty returned, accompanied by three fearsome characters. Only the day before Therese had considered Renoir and his associates to be the most terrifying scoundrels she could imagine, but the crew of the Fortune Hunter were so gnarled and frightening that Therese considered Renoir’s crew to be positively comforting by comparison. To a man, everyone on this ship was scarred, heavily tattooed and dressed in a motley assortment of dilapidated garments. Some of them looked as though they would kill a man as soon as look at him; a woman too, for that matter. These three were as bad as any she had seen, and she trembled with fear as they looked her over. She knelt before them, severely restrained, with objects inserted into her pussy and ass. She knew she was completely helpless to prevent them from doing anything they wanted to her naked body, and she had never felt so vulnerable. “Remember, mates,” Smitty advised them, “you can amuse yourselves as ye please, but Cap’n Jack don’t want the wench havin’ her pleasure just yet, as it were. So you’d best not touch the slut’s pussy at all. Better not fuck her back porthole either, since I’ll wager this wench can probably come from that, too,” he laughed contemptuously as he smacked Therese across the breasts. She flinched at the blow and gasped in surprise. “Aye, that’s less than I would want if I had me way, Smitty. But the Cap’n’s always done right by us so far, so you got my word.” “Yeah, me too, I guess,” grumbled another one, whose head was shaved bare. “Sure, sure,” added the third. “All right then, I’ll be back in half an hour. There’s plenty others waiting for a go at her. And don’t damage the goods, lads!” Smitty laughed as he left the alarmed French aristocrat alone with the rogues. The three men walked around the kneeling, bound young Duchess as if deciding how best to make use of the time they had been given. Terrified, Therese could barely find her voice as she pleaded, “Please, don’t hurt me.” “Oh, don’t you worry, darlin’. We won’t do any permanent harm to ye,” said one of them, and the others laughed. “At least we can use her mouth, that’s for sure, Bill,” the one with the shaved head said as her held her chin in his hand and looked down at her face. He wore no shirt, and was covered with tattoos, some of the inked designs extending even to his neck and face. “Aye, Swede, and I’ll venture we can come up with some other fun while we’re at it. It was right friendly of ol’ Jack to give us first crack at ‘er, as it were,” and he chuckled at what he imagined was a clever pun. “No less than we’ve got coming, for the way we got that fellow to tell us where they had the treasure hid on the island,” Swede replied. “That was well done, boys. Once he got started we could barely shut him up, eh!” “Indeed! Shame how the poor fellow was so badly hurt by the time he opened up. Coulda saved hisself a lot of suffering if he’d a talked sooner!” said Bill. “Well, you are a good one with that blade, Bill,” said the third man. “Well thank you, Michael, it is my specialty, as it were,” Bill said. As they talked they removed their trousers. Therese was frightened by their talk of torture, but somewhat reassured by the promise they had made not to hurt her. As she stared at the three semi-erect cocks in front of her, the captive girl was suddenly aware again of the sex-ache between her legs. The two objects filling her holes were still causing an uncomfortable degree of stimulation, and if her hands had not been bound out to her sides she would probably have tried to touch her pussy to relieve the throbbing. Bill stood in front of her, his cock beginning to swell as he pinched one of her nipples, pulling on the sensitive nub and stretching it out from her body. She gasped at the stimulation, already aroused enough so that it caused her added pleasure rather than pain. The vile pirate moved closer, holding his cock and pumping it to full hardness as she watched. Then he let go of the stiff rod and it bobbed in front of her face, a large drop of fluid beginning to collect on the tip. Therese looked at the cock only inches from her face, and unconsciously she let her tongue slip out to lick her lips. She looked up and was momentarily startled at the cruel face that looked back, but even that thrill caused her to feel a jolt in her over-stimulated pussy. Her lips were parted slightly, and she wanted to feel his hard cock in her mouth; to have the taste of this low, depraved beast on her tongue. Slowly she opened her mouth a bit wider, and looked up at him again. “Go ahead, darling. Take the old fella in that sweet mouth, like I know ye wants to,” Bill said. She whispered, barely audible, “I can’t, I just can’t. Don’t make me, please.” But the men knew from what Smitty had told them, that she had been kept in a state of arousal for some time, and what she probably wanted was to be forced to take him in her mouth. He moved a few centimeters closer, but still not quite touching her full lips. He held that distance and waited, and time seemed to slow down as the buccaneers watched the French beauty struggle with her desires. Ever so slowly her head moved closer to the end of his cock, almost as if she could not stop herself. As the distance began to close, the devious outlaw moved imperceptibly back, causing her to move ahead even more, until she was noticeably straining her neck forward, her lips open and the pink tip of her tongue protruding. She began to whimper, pleading now for him to enter her mouth. A tiny trickle of saliva ran from the corner of her mouth, dripping over her smooth chin. Finally, even her tormentor ran out of patience and could restrain himself no longer. He moved forward the necessary few inches and plunged his dripping erection into the young Duchess’s salivating mouth. Her eyes rolled back until only the whites showed through her half-closed lids, and she moaned deeply as hot pirate cock slid over her tongue and bumped the back of her throat. His penis was large, and her lips were stretched tight to accommodate its girth. Although her hands were bound she could move her head freely, and she bobbed back and forth as she hungrily sucked on the stranger’s fat cock. She became aware that the other two bandits were standing on either side of her, their erect pricks pointing at her head. Therese pulled her face off Bill’s hard-on, strings of saliva and cock juice connecting the pole to her lips, and turned to face Swede’s erect member. She opened her mouth and plunged it over the purple head, her lips pushing back his foreskin as she took him inside. The Duchess slurped and sucked, unable to use her hands but using her head to the full extent she could. Therese turned to the other side, where Michael stood, but instead of taking his cock in her mouth she eagerly licked at it with her dripping tongue. She bathed the head, then licked along the shaft, back and forth, nibbling down the side and back to the top. She nipped at the flesh of his foreskin with her lips, then licked along the underside. She stretched her neck as she approached the root, and he moved closer to give her better access. Her frantic tongue found his scrotum, and she lapped at the wrinkled sac, sucking on his balls while moaning deeply. She was trying desperately to squirm on the saddle and relieve the maddening need in her pussy, but she could barely move her ass at all. The Duchess let the pirate’s soaked ball sac pop from her mouth and gasped up at the men, “Please, please fuck me. Just untie me and put your lovely big cock in my pussy. I need to be fucked so much, I beg you to help me!” “It’s certainly tempting, you sweet thing,” said Bill. “I’d love to fill you with me tool, but you know the rules. We’d be shark bait if we disobeyed the Cap’n’s orders.” “Just touch my pussy, just a little. Touch my clit, please. Or untie me and let me touch it, that’s all you need to do!” She was talking fast, babbling as she pleaded for relief from her suffering. “She’s talking too much, boys. I’m going to stuff something in her mouth,” Swede laughed as he shoved his hard prick into the whimpering girl’s lips. There was no hesitation on her part as she sucked hard, bobbing her head, hoping that they would help her if she pleased them. As she fucked Swede with her beautiful face, Michael reached down behind her and took hold of the base of the butt plug protruding from her stretched ass. He moved it around in a circle, stimulating her bottom and causing her to moan around the cock in her mouth. Cream was bubbling from her pussy around the dildo, soaking the saddle leather and her thighs. Saliva and Swede’s copious pre-cum ran from her lips and over her chin to drop onto her bouncing breasts. While the two men played with her, Bill looked around for something to add to the fun and saw the short whip that Smitty had used on her before. Behind her back he gestured to Michael to back away, and as she sucked as hard as she could on Swede’s rampaging cock Bill brought the lash down on her straight back. She jumped and twitched, but did not stop sucking, and the men laughed to see that her need for cock was so desperate that even a whipping could not distract her. “Hit her again, Bill,” urged Swede. “She sucks harder when you whip her.” He did hit her again, leaving red stripes across her perfect, smooth skin, and she did indeed increase the fervor of her sucking. Tears ran down her cheeks, but whether from the force of her oral fucking or from the pain of the beating was unclear. After Therese had taken a half-dozen strokes Swede was close to coming, and when Bill heard his gasps he stopped the whipping. Swede grabbed her head in his hands and fucked her mouth faster, plunging to the back of her throat as the first spasm of his climax began. When the first spurt of his hot sperm hit her throat Therese gulped it down without hesitation, swallowing again and again as her mouth filled. As the hot seed coated her tongue and the scent filled her nostrils she almost came herself, even without any friction on her swollen pussy flesh. But it was not quite enough, she needed just that little bit of contact to reach the peak, and the tormented princess whimpered with frustration when she realized it was not going to happen. Swede pulled from her lips still coming, and his sperm ran from her mouth and over her lower lip to drip from her chin. He let the last few spurts land on her swollen breasts, then wiped himself on her hair and stepped back. The beautiful French girl’s body was glistening with oil, sweat, and come as Bill stepped up and shoved his cock into her panting mouth. He didn’t take long to come, and when he did he pulled out and shot most of his load on her face and breasts. Michael was next, fucking her mouth hard and fast and adding his vile seed to the others. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 04 ONE: The Convent of the Sisters of Blessed Charity Sister Dominique was preparing for her morning prayers. The devout young woman always found prayer an intense experience, often losing herself in the joy of giving herself to God. But occasionally, on days when she was especially blessed, it became something even greater. When she came to prayer this morning she had had a feeling that this might be one of those days. It had been several weeks since the last time she had been transported into what she thought of as 'her ecstasy'. If God wanted her to have the experience today he would let her know. It was sinful to wish for it, selfish and prideful. She would seek forgiveness for such thoughts at confession. Anne-Marie de Beaulieux had come to the Sisters of Blessed Charity from her home in the south of France. Her family was wealthy and had noble roots, but Anne-Marie had had the misfortune to be born the youngest of one son and four girls. As a result the prospects for Anne-Marie to marry well were close to nil, in spite of the fact that she was a very pretty girl, with jet-black hair and deep blue eyes. With most of the land going to her brother, the family fortune would be stretched extremely thin to provide two, or maybe three, dowries. There was simply nothing left for Anne-Marie. The best thing for her, and for her family honor, was to enter the Sisterhood and give her life to the Church. At an early age Anne-Marie was sent to the Sisters of Blessed Charity, where she was raised and educated by the nuns. In addition to her native French, she was taught proficiency in Spanish and English. Everyone knew that she was going to be a nun herself, and when she finally achieved this honor, and the name Sister Dominique, Mother Superior told her that she had been selected to travel to the New World to join the mission in Panama. Only nineteen years old, Sister Dominique was a bit frightened at the prospect of going to the unknown lands across the ocean, but she was obedient and was grateful for the opportunity to serve God and the Church. When she knelt on the chapel floor, the young nun arranged her robe so that her bare knees were in contact with the hard, cold stone. She avoided any comfort, even the slight cushion that her robe would provide as she moved smoothly through the rosary, then on to her special prayers. As she prayed, Sister Dominique began to concentrate on her favorite subject, the suffering of martyrs. She knew that God chose only the most deserving for the divine glory of ultimate personal sacrifice, but she hoped that the circumstances that had led her to a life in the Church indicated that she was on the right path. She prayed that the Lord would some day select her for that honor, though she sometimes despaired of the hope, and feared that it might be denied to her because she had the effrontery to want it. She asked that if the Lord, in His infinite wisdom, could find some special use for her, anything at all, that He would allow her the chance to serve Him. She knew that she was undeserving, that there were others, even in this convent, far more worthy than she was. But she was ready now. No suffering was too great; she would endure anything for her faith and asked only to be given the opportunity to demonstrate it. As sometimes happened at this point in her prayers, the young nun's thoughts began to drift toward scenes of martyrdom. In these reveries she saw herself chosen to make the ultimate sacrifice, enduring unimaginable suffering, so that she could demonstrate her faith and so that others could be saved. She kept several such scenes in her memories to which she would return often, adding more details each time. In her favorite fantasy she imagined that she lived in a village where she helped the sick. One day a band of outlaws rode in to plunder the village and to slaughter anyone who stood in their way. In the central square the bandits erected stakes to which they bound a dozen helpless villagers, young men and woman. Some of the women were mothers with small children, and the men were fathers with families to support and protect. The leader of the outlaws announced that he would torture and kill the captives unless the village turned over all their food and anything of value to the raiders. The helpless people quickly complied; bringing several wagons filled with sacks of grain, smoked hams and dried sausages. On top were a few meager items made of silver and a small bag containing whatever coins they could gather. "Is this all?" demanded the bandit chief. "Please, sir, this is all we have. We are a poor village, we beg you to have pity," pleaded the town elder. "What about that church?" the villain said, pointing to their pathetic little chapel. "What's in there?" He knew that such impoverished settlements often placed whatever wealth they possessed in the church. "Please, sir. That is our house of worship, the Lord's house," begged the old man. "What is in there belongs to God." The chief drew his sword and placed the point at the throat of one of the bound young women. Dominique recognized her and remembered that she had an infant child. "I will run my blade through this girl's throat if you do not bring me whatever is in that church by the time I count to ten," he said calmly. To emphasize the seriousness of his words he prodded the girl's pale flesh with the tip of his sword, causing the villagers to gasp and cry out as a trickle of blood ran down her neck. If her husband hadn't also been bound to a stake he would have rushed forward and undoubtedly would have gotten himself killed. "One...Two...Three..." he counted as two people ran into the tiny chapel. Before he got to 'seven' they emerged carrying the poor box and a large silver crucifix. They placed the box on the ground by his feet, and rested the crucifix on top. "Well, not much better," he grumbled. "You were going to hide this from me, were you?" "Please, Excellency, we did not think you would want the crucifix," said the old man. "Why not, fool? Do you imagine that I give a dog's carcass for your filthy church?" The old man stood there helpless, not sure what the angry bandit might do next. "This is still a miserable offering. It's not enough, and you need to be taught a lesson about lying to me." "Please, sir, we did not intend to deceive. It was an honest mistake." "Silence, insect!" barked the fearsome outlaw. "We will take this pile of shit, but we will also take this woman," he said, pointing to the young mother with his sword. "No, please, I beg you in the name of the Blessed Virgin, spare her!" "Not unless you have something else to offer," said the chief. It was at this point in Dominique's fantasy that she always rose to her calling. In her mind she stepped forward and said, "Please, sir. Take me. You may do what you will with me, but spare this woman. She is mother to a small child." In spite of her sheltered upbringing, the young nun was aware that she was considered quite pretty. She took no pride in that, but always hoped that there was some way she could use it in the service of the Lord. "Hmm," he considered the offer as he studied her. "I suppose you'll do just as well. All right, bring her along," he said to his men. "Sir, I beg you," Dominique implored the bandit, "could you be merciful and leave the crucifix? It is all these people have." He paused a moment as he considered her request. "All right, my dear. Here's what I'll do. I will leave the crucifix, but in exchange you must be made to suffer for the amusement of my men." On the floor of the convent chapel the kneeling nun hung her head as she imagined herself in the village bowing her head in surrender to the bandit chief. As the scene unfolds in her mind, Dominique imagines herself in the bandit camp naked and with her arms bound over her head to a tree branch. The men take turns beating her with hickory switches until her body is covered with welts. They pay particular attention to her tender breasts, whipping the firm mounds repeatedly. They torture her mercilessly, using needles to pierce her delicate nipples, branding her on the belly and bottom with hot irons. She imagines that they demand that she renounce her faith, but no matter what torment she suffers she remains faithful. They place her on the ground and forcefully spread her legs. Her most secret and private place is exposed to their evil eyes, and they proceed to touch her there. Still she keeps her faith. They whip her between the legs, but she does not falter. Though still a virgin and innocent as to the ways of a man and a woman, she imagines that they would force themselves on her but she would never waver in her faith. In the chapel, Sister Dominique was completely immersed in the fantasy. No longer aware of her surroundings, her body was trembling as the dream bandits raped and beat her. The innocent virgin did not understand the significance of the moisture building between her legs, even as her juices began to trickle down her bare thighs to leave tiny puddles on the cold stone by her knees. The imagined tortures increased, her sacrifice for the villagers and her faith driving her to a state of complete bliss. Imagining herself resisting the bandits' attempts to force themselves into her body, she squeezed her legs together tightly, rhythmically clenching her thighs. She placed her hands between her legs, tightly pressing on her womanhood to protect it from the menacing bandits. The images of torture flooded her mind as she repeatedly pressed on her drenched sex, the hard nipples of her breasts rubbing against the rough cloth of the linen shift she wore beneath her robe. The pretty nun imagined the fiends entering her body, forcing themselves into her sex and even into her bottom as she pressed harder to stop them. Suddenly Sister Dominique was transported into that state of religious ecstasy she craved. Her body vibrated, her breasts shook under her robe as she reached a glorious climax. Gasping and trembling she fell to the floor, her hands still pressed between her thighs. She lay there panting for several minutes, until her breathing returned to normal, then she got back on her knees and prayed. She thanked the Lord for choosing to bring her another 'ecstasy', which she was certain was a special gift from God to reward her for her faith. Sister Dominique rose from her morning prayers in a state of near exhaustion, and returned to her cell to wash herself. The young nun knew these ecstasies caused her to perspire, but the amount of moisture she always found between her thighs was a puzzle to her. She regarded this as another sign of the special nature of her gift. She dried herself and put her habit back on, and returned to her chores. Nearly a week passed and Sister Dominique's thoughts were beginning once again to turn to her special prayers. She found herself frequently lost in the dreams now. She was beginning her afternoon prayers when she heard a commotion outside the chapel. Looking through the narrow window she saw a shocking sight. Men! Men were in the convent! And they were not local people; these men looked bestial and frightening. Dominique put her hand to her mouth to silence a scream when she saw the men pulling some of the sisters over to the center of the cloister. One of the women was being physically dragged, struggling to get free. Finally, four of the younger sisters lay on the ground, cowering before a circle of what Dominique could only imagine must be pirates. The young French nun also realized that the men had selected four of the prettiest girls. Four large men pulled the nuns to their feet, each pirate standing behind a girl and holding her firmly by her upper arms. A man came forward and used a long knife to cut down the front of each sister's habit and shift, then spread the ruined garments open to expose the poor sisters' shameful nakedness to the band of men. Dominique knew she should look away, but she couldn't, especially when other men came forward and began to touch the sisters' naked flesh, squeezing their breasts, pinching their nipples, thrusting their hands between the horrified girls' thighs. After a few minutes of this degrading abuse, a man with a patch over one eye gestured for the others to stop. He looked at the sisters' terrified faces and turned to the windows of the convent, where women were helplessly watching. "You have five minutes to bring me a woman who we will take with us," he announced. "She will come willingly, and you will not see her again. If you do not, we will begin by amusing ourselves with these girls, and I assure you we will take our time and it will be painful." He paused to let them consider that. "Then we will pick four more, and so on until either we have used up all the sisters, or you bring us an offering of one sister who will become our property." The Mother Superior ran forward, falling to her knees in front of the horrible brute. "S'il vous plait, monsieur," she begged, "have pity. We have done you no harm. Take anything you want, but please don't hurt the sisters." "Then give us one to take," he replied. "In the name of the Blessed Virgin, that is too much to ask. We cannot choose one of our own to sacrifice." There was an outdoor communal bread oven in the yard, and the man walked over to it and opened the door to the firebox. Even in the sunlight, Therese could see the red glow of the fire. He lifted the iron rod that was used as a poker and thrust it into the hot coals. When he withdrew it the end was glowing red. The pirate leader walked over to one of the young sisters and held the red-hot iron a foot from the end of her trembling, naked breast. "You have one minute left," he said, and moved the iron closer to the terrified girl's quivering flesh. "Oh Lord, I know this is a sign," Dominique gasped. "God is showing me my path; the path I knew He meant for me." Dominique ran from the chapel and into the courtyard. She stopped suddenly when she got close enough to the men to see how big they really were. They were dirty, tattooed and scarred. They were the most frightening people Sister Dominique had ever seen. "This is the moment," the young nun thought. "I am being tested to see if my prayers were sincere." All the pirates were looking in her direction. She opened her mouth, and at first no sound came out. Again she tried, and only produced a squeak. "Out with it, girl. What do you have for us?" Suddenly Dominique found her voice and spoke in a loud clear tone, "Me! Take me and spare these sisters, I beg of you!" "No! Dominique, you don't have to do this," cried Mother Superior. The one-eyed man walked over to her and stood, towering over the frightened woman. He turned her chin up to examine her face, then opened her mouth to inspect her teeth. It was then that Dominique saw that he had a long scar across his face from his brow to his chin. "You're certainly fair enough in the face, girl. But we need to have more to go on. Take off your habit!" The watching women gasped at the horror unfolding before them. "No, please!" pleaded the Mother Superior, still on her knees. "Quiet, you old cow!" he snapped. Mortified, but determined to live up to her promises to God, Sister Dominique opened the ties at her neck and let the robe drop. "All of it," the beast commanded. She untied the ribbon at the neck of her shift, and the white linen fell to the dusty ground. The trembling girl stood naked before them, wearing only her cowl. Her breasts were shapely and firm, but not exceptionally large. A slight disadvantage, since buyers generally paid more for women with very large busts. But her body was lovely, beautifully curved, with a tiny waist and full, round hips. "Turn around," he ordered. When she did he smiled at the sight of her bottom. It was delightfully round and firm, with the kind of generous proportions for which buyers would also pay a premium. "All right, you'll do. Put your robe back on and let's go." When she reached for the shift the pirate chief said, "Just the robe sister, don't waste time with the underwear." While she tied the top of her robe, sisters from all around were pleading, "Please, don't take her." "In the name of The Blessed Virgin, please let her go!" But it fell on deaf ears. The men released the captive sisters, who immediately pulled their torn habits around themselves and helped Mother Superior to her feet. Then the men walked from the convent, one of them carrying Sister Dominique over his shoulder. She was not struggling, but the women could see that her eyes were closed and she was praying, her rosary clenched in her hand. They prayed too, as they watched her disappear from sight. TWO: Aboard The Fortune Hunter Less than an hour later the raiding party was boarding the Fortune Hunter with their prize. Sister Dominique clutched her rosary and continued to pray silently as the crew eyed her, the men not bothered in the slightest that this captive was a nun. If anything they found it even more stimulating knowing what would happen to her. Although she could not hear what they were saying, she saw the men making comments to each other and smiling. Her captors led her across the deck to a hatchway. They lifted the hatch and led her down the ladder to the lower deck, where they took her past the rooms that contained other female captives. They took their time, allowing her to see the women and hear their pleas. The young nun fainted twice while being shown the bound women. This was far beyond anything that she had ever imagined in her dreams. She was horrified not only by the severe ways in which the poor girls were restrained, but by the obscene sexual degradations that were being imposed on them. When she heard some of them begging to be allowed to 'come', she hadn't a clue what that meant, but she assumed it had something to do with being set free. She was taken to a large room, perhaps their refectory, she thought, with meager light from a few portholes. They placed her standing up between two posts. While one of the men lit several lamps around the room two men attached leather manacles to her wrists and chained her hands to the posts, her arms out to the sides, but left her legs unbound. In the better light she looked at the faces of the six men standing around her, evil beasts all of them, and felt a sudden surge of panic. "Please, have mercy. I am a holy sister doing God's work," she pleaded in desperation. But she saw not a glimmer of pity in their hard, cold stares. She was terrified, but at the same time she felt a strange sense of peace, knowing that God had finally answered her prayers. She knew she would live up to this calling, to be a martyr for her faith. Whatever happened now, her sacrifice had saved the other sisters. One of the men stepped closer to the captive nun, and stood in front of her for a minute without saying or doing anything. She wondered what they planned for her, the uncertainty preying on her mind. When his hands moved toward her neck, she instinctively cringed and tried to withdraw. The man grasped the neck of her robe in both hands and pulled, easily ripping the fabric apart all the way down to the bottom. He spread the torn garment open, baring her nakedness to the staring men. As soon as the air hit her skin her pink nipples began to harden and pucker. She squeezed her thighs together, as if to protect her virgin sex from their gazes. She expected the man to touch her body, but instead he drew his dagger. When she saw the long blade, Dominique whimpered, afraid he was going to use it on her. Instead he used the knife to cut through the sleeves of her robe, and soon the shreds of her garment fell to the floor leaving the poor girl standing naked before them, wearing only the nun's cowl on her head. Sister Dominique had never been naked in front of a man, and now this was the second time today that strange men stared at her unclothed body. She closed her eyes, the shame almost too much to bear. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 04 A scraping noise caused her to open her eyes, and she saw two men lifting a table. As they moved the table closer, the young nun noticed something that started her heart pounding in her chest. The top had a raised lip all around the edge, and a hole at one end that looked like a drain. As she realized the terrifying implications of such an arrangement her knees started to tremble and she thought she would faint again. As they slid the table between the posts, hands lifted Sister Dominique and placed her on the surface. She was lying flat, her arms still bound to the posts on either side, while the six brutes stood around the table and studied the helpless naked captive before them. She pressed her knees together, clenching her thighs tightly. When one of the men placed a bucket under the drain, and another brought over a tray on which lay several steel blades that appeared to be razors, she began to cry. All her imaginings and prayers had been the idealized fantasies of a sheltered young girl. Now that she was confronted with the possibility that she was about to suffer a martyr's fate, perhaps horribly butchered for these monsters' amusement, her courage began to waiver. No longer sure of how much pain she could endure, she prayed that her death would come quickly lest she falter and renounce her faith. Expecting the worst, the pretty blue-eyed nun was not prepared for what happened next. A man approached the table holding a mug in one hand and a shaving brush in the other. He stirred the brush around in the cup and brought it out covered in thick lather, which he shook onto her belly, right over her navel. She jumped at the feeling, causing her pretty breasts to bounce and jiggle. Then he stroked the brush over her middle, spreading the lather. Suddenly someone grabbed her ankles and held them down, while another man with a brush began to spread lather on her legs. Soon four men were working on her with soapy brushes, spreading the wet foam over her tingling skin. She was puzzled and wondered why they were doing this. Sister Dominique had been prepared for torture and pain, but she hadn't expected the soft prickling feeling of the shaving brushes. The men used the wet fur of the brushes to stroke and stimulate her skin, as they covered the puzzled nun with shaving soap from her neck to her ankles. They lingered over every inch, covering her torso as well as her arms and legs, and the tickling when they coated her underarms was maddening. When the furry bristles caressed her nipples she could not suppress a whimper, and they spent long minutes stimulating the sensitive tips of her breasts. The man holding her ankles then spread her legs wide apart, and although she resisted, it was useless. Her thighs parted, and her virgin sex was revealed to the buccaneers. The young woman's silky pubic fur was sparse and did not fully cover the lips of her sex, so the men could clearly see the tight slit between her legs. They spread the soap on the insides of her soft thighs, working their way closer to her untouched womanhood. When the soapy brush touched her pussy she gasped at the sensation. Two men were using brushes on her crotch, one of them stroking the crease where the soft skin of her inner thigh met the outer lips of her virgin pussy, while the other gently spread the foam on her labia. When the lips were thoroughly lathered, they used the tips of the bristles on the center of her pussy, stroking up and down along the tight slit. At the same time, the two others were stroking their brushes over her hard nipples and puckered aureoles. The unwelcome stimulation combined with the deep shame she felt at being exposed to the eyes of these men caused confused feelings in the pretty sister. Despite her desire to resist, the innocent girl's pussy began to respond against her will. As the inner lips filled with blood they began to swell and blossom open, revealing the moist pink interior. The rosy flesh of her sweet pussy glistened with her reluctant wetness, and the men could see the tight virgin entrance and the delicate little clit peeking out from the tender folds at the top of her slit. While the two continued to hold her legs apart, the other four put down the brushes and took up the razors. Attached to the side of the table was a leather strap, and one-by-one they honed their blades. Terrified and puzzled, Sister Dominique looked up at their cruel faces and said in a whisper, "Wha...what are you going to do?" "We are going to shave you, darling. It's part of the preparation," answered the one-eyed leader. "Preparation? Preparation for what? I beg you to let me know what fate you intend for me, sir," she pleaded. "You should know my faith is strong and I will endure any suffering for my devotion to the Lord." "Ah, my darling, your faith is of no concern to me, I assure you. You are going to be trained as a slave and sold at the market in Port Royal," he said. "Slave? Mon Dieu!" she exclaimed. This was not what she expected at all; to be sold into slavery was not a martyr's fate. "But...why...why...?" she stammered as she looked down at her bound, lathered body, unable to find the words. "Why the shaving?" Hutton prompted. Dominique nodded. "A properly trained and prepared sex slave must have all her hair removed. The buyers want to see that you are clean and pure," he said. Dominique's mouth opened, but a pitiful croak was the only sound she could manage in response. The men in the room burst out laughing at the poor girl's shock on learning her fate. "What did you think when you saw those other women? Wasn't it obvious what they were being trained for?" the Captain said. "Non...non...je ne savais!" she gasped, lapsing into her native tongue. "Well, maybe you didn't know, but now you do," he laughed. "Je ne peux le faire! Pas moi!" "On the contrary, my girl, you can and you will do it. That was the agreement we had. If you fight me, we will return to the convent and choose other sisters to suffer for you," warned the buccaneer. Dominique was horrified at the revelation. This was worse than what she had imagined, worse than the physical pain she was prepared to endure. She expected to be tortured for her faith, to be tested by God through martyrdom. But to become a sex slave, to spend her life in lascivious debauchery was a fate worse than death. She would rather die a pure woman, devoted to God and her calling, than surrender her body to lust. But that choice was not open to her, because under no circumstances could she end her own life, and if she did not go willingly, if she tried to fight these demons, they would return and hurt the other sisters. The whole meaning of her sacrifice had been to save the convent. Then it began to dawn on her that this was the sacrifice that God had chosen her for. It had been presumptuous of her to assume that she could know God's will. Why did her calling have to be physical torture? This path was one of even greater suffering, a fate worse than torture, worse than death. She would suffer not a few hours of excruciating pain followed by sweet death, but months or even years of sacrifice and humiliation for her faith. To save the convent she would be subjected to a life of degradation and defilement, but it was a sacrifice she must make for God. She could not begin to imagine the torment she would endure, the unspeakable debasement of her body for the love of God. "So be it," Sister Dominique said, resigned. "You may possess my body, but you will never own my soul. That belongs to God." Hutton picked up a razor and said to her, "If I were you I would stay very still now. If you move you may get that pretty skin cut, and we wouldn't want that, would we, darling?" As the group of men looked down at the bound girl, her lovely naked body covered in lather, three others took up razors. Slowly and deliberately they began to scrape away the soap, removing her already sparse body hair at the same time. Two of them methodically stroked the sharp blades along the front of her legs, then lifted her feet into the air and applied more lather to the backs. At the same time the other two shaved under her arms, then proceeded to remove the rest of the lather from her arms and torso. They even used the razors to clean off her tender breasts, although there was no hair to remove there. But the necessity for her to remain absolutely still and passively submit to the procedure reinforced her subservient role. Finally they were ready to shave her most intimate area, her virgin pussy. The French girl whimpered as they held her legs wide apart and back, and very carefully Hutton began to remove her pubic hair. He worked on her mound and then down along the plump lips, pulling and stretching the skin as needed and stimulating the captive nun against her will. Sister Dominique was confused by the feelings she was experiencing. The disgrace of being naked and having her body shaved in front of these men should have disgusted her, but instead she felt strange stirrings. It was almost like the feelings she had when she prayed in her special way, almost like the feelings before she had one of her 'ecstasies'. When Hutton finished shaving her sex one of the men took a sponge from a bucket of clear water and began to wipe her down. The soapy water ran off her smooth skin and down the drain at the end of the table. When she was washed clean, the chains that bound her arms to the posts were unhooked and they turned her over. She lay face down on the shaving table as the men repeated the humiliating process on her back and bottom cheeks, despite the fact that there were hardly any hairs on those areas. When they finished, and again rinsed her clean, a cloth was used to pat her dry. Lying face down while they tended to her, she almost forgot that she was a captive, destined for a fate worse than death; she began to feel as though she were being pampered and coddled. This delusion was quickly dispelled when her hips were grasped and pulled up, so that she was on her knees, her bottom in the air, her hands gripping the front edge of the table and the side of her face resting on the surface. It was the same position she had assumed many times on the floor of the chapel when at prayers, a posture she had always associated with pious devotion. Now she found herself in the same position of total humility, but this time she was naked, her most private parts shaved and completely exposed to the evil men who held her life in their hands. Only the fact that her cowl had fallen across her face and she was unable to see them made it a bit more bearable for her as she murmured Hail Mary's to herself. Her shame became overwhelming when Hutton grasped one of her bottom cheeks in each hand and spread them apart, exposing not only her shaved pussy but also her tight, puckered bottom hole to their gazes. Then he placed one thumb on each of her hairless plump pussy lips and pulled her open, revealing the wet center of her womanhood. The buccaneers could see her delicate little clit peeking from its fleshy hood, and the tight hole of her untouched cunt. "She is indeed a virgin," said the Captain, pulling her hole open harder and showing them the fragile hymen that protected the entrance to her body. The kneeling nun whimpered with the humiliation. The rude use of her body made Sister Dominique realize that this was in fact the suffering she had been chosen to endure. Men, she couldn't tell how many, began running their hands over her shaved behind, pulling open her pussy lips, touching her tight ass pucker. She was being made to endure this demonic debasement of her body, was being tested by God, to see what she was willing to suffer for His love. That test became stronger when one of the men brushed his finger over her erect little clit. She suddenly knew for certain that this was God's will, that she was doing the right thing, because at that moment the young nun knew that she might be touched by an ecstasy. She was breathing harder and squeezing her belly tightly, just as she did in her special prayers. But suddenly her path was interrupted when the man stopped rubbing her button, and instead smacked his hand down hard on her ripe, round ass cheek. She could not suppress a shriek, and another when he smacked her other cheek harder. Dominique was praying as fast as she could, not for God to save her from this horrible fate, but thanking Him for choosing her for this task. The men were running their hands over her raised behind as if checking the quality of their work, squeezing great handfuls of her flesh, and repeatedly smacking her bottom until it was deep rosy red. Her shaved pussy lips were coated with her copious juices, which were smeared over the insides of her silken thighs. Light suddenly flooded her face as Hutton pulled her cowl aside. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring up into the faces of the worst group of outlaws that she could ever have dreamt up - truly selected by the Lord to wring from her the most glorious and holy torment. The Captain stood over the prostrate sister, who looked up with tears in her blue eyes. In his hand he held an object she knew well, its familiarity almost affording her some comfort. It was a votive candle, just like the hundreds Sister Dominique had lit in the convent. This one was already lit, but she knew it could not be for any holy purpose. Her fears were confirmed when he held the candle high over her deeply arched back and slowly tipped it over, allowing the molten wax to drip onto her smooth skin. It was hot enough to cause her considerable discomfort, yet not hot enough to burn her. "Oh please, stop. It hurts! Please stop, this is a sacrilege," whimpered the kneeling girl. He ignored her cries and continued to drip the wax onto her back, moving down until the hot droplets were falling on her round, raised ass cheeks. "Oh, God, no! Not there, it hurts, it hurts!" Although she loudly protested both the torment and the blasphemy, the men could clearly see that her shaved slit was filling with even more of her virgin juices. By the time he finished the torture, the wax had hardened, and since all traces of hair had been removed from her body, the solid wax was easily pulled away. Underneath, the skin of her back and bottom was undamaged, but was bright pink from the heat and extremely sensitive. Hutton pulled her to a sitting position and removed the cowl from her head and neck. The pretty dark-haired young woman was even more beautiful with her cowl off. Her hair was short, having been cut to the length of a woman's finger when she took her vows. Her startled expression revealed her deep blue eyes, a striking contrast to her jet-black hair. Now she was completely naked, devoid of any covering to her body at all, not even the finest of downy hair. Leather manacles were buckled onto her ankles before they lifted her from the table and placed her on her feet. Once again they fastened her chained wrists to the posts on either side, this time spreading her legs and chaining them to the base of the posts. Her arms were pulled tight and her thighs were wide open, causing her shaved and wet sex to be plainly visible to the evil bandits. The table was removed and a rug was brought in and unrolled. It was of the finest Persian workmanship, worth a small fortune if the pirates were to sell it at Port Royal. But it might draw too much attention to them, being unique and easily identifiable, so it remained on board. Onto this base were tossed numerous tasseled silk pillows of all hues. Sister Dominique stood in her bonds, helpless to prevent the next test God had for her. She was surprised when the door to the room opened and a man entered leading a young woman. She was about the same age as Dominique, and she too was naked, keeping her gaze cast down. The nun was startled to see faint red lines all over her body, on her back, thighs, and even her large firm breasts. Dominique saw that her wrists bore restraints similar to her own, and were fastened together behind her back. She had lovely auburn hair and when she raised her face and looked at Dominique, the nun saw striking green eyes. The girl was wearing a leather collar, with a steel ring from which ran a slender silver chain. Dominique's gaze traced the silver line that sparkled in the lamplight to its other end - attached to a ring in the girl's nipple! The ring ran through from one side to the other - clearly this poor thing had had her nipple pierced, no doubt by these savages. Seeing the girl's pierced breast was another sign to the eager nun. In her special prayers she had imagined that the men who would torture her would pierce her nipples, and she realized that it had been a vision granted to her by God, a foreshadowing of what would really happen. The man who led the girl into the room then barked at her, "On your knees, slave!" and she struggled to her knees on the cushions, an awkward task with her hands bound, but for which she was offered no help by any of the men staring at her. When she was settled, Hutton walked up to her and turned her face to Dominique. "This is Therese. She was a Duchess, and soon you will see how she has become a most proficient sex slave. In case you have any notions of resisting, or you think you can no longer bear your fate, be assured that it will make no difference whatsoever," he explained casually. "She resisted repeatedly, and each time she was disciplined. You will notice that some of that 'discipline' has left marks on her lovely skin. Those red streaks are almost gone, though. You should have seen the welts they came from." The men in the room laughed raucously, but the girl merely kept her head down. "But finally she broke, as will you if you resist." But Sister Dominique knew that she had to resist. That was God's test for her. She must resist until they can find no other torture for her. Then they would exhaust themselves trying to break her will, but her faith would win them over. One of the men stepped up to the kneeling woman and looked down at her. He untied the rope holding up his ragged trousers and they dropped to the deck. At first Sister Dominique did not know what she was seeing. Dangling from the man's lower belly was what looked at first to the innocent girl to be a tail. It was right on a level with the Duchess's face, and the man simply said, "Now you will see how a slave girl sucks a man's cock." A Cock! Is that what they called it? Dominique knew of the existence of penises, but the only ones she had ever seen were on the little boys who ran about naked in the village near the convent. Is this what happens when they become men? Dominique was shocked and horrified by the realization. Then she realized that meant that every one of these men, and all the crew she had seen up on deck, had similar ornamentation. She was contemplating the implications when she was shocked back to the moment by the sight of the woman leaning forward and licking the man's organ. Truly this was the most horrendous and cruel torture that Dominique had ever imagined; forced to take one of those outsized and disgusting things in her mouth! Dominique tried to prepare herself for the inevitable moment when she, too, would be forced to commit such an unspeakable act. Therese, this Duchess, had taken the end of the man's cock in her mouth and was sucking on it. Unbelievably it had become much larger even than before. It stuck straight out in front of him, connecting his hips to the slave girl's mouth. She was plunging her face over the stiff rod, driving it to the back of her throat. Saliva drooled from her lips and dripped from her chin. Dominique watched it drop onto the girl's large, shaking breasts and hard, erect nipples, once again drawing her attention to the ring in the slave's pierced breast. Dominique tried to imagine what it would feel like to have her own nipples pierced, and she expected she would soon know. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 04 The girl was slobbering over the man's hard cock, licking down the sides and finally lapping at the sac that hung below. The nun watched in horror, transfixed as the girl sucked the sac into her mouth. Dominique had also been taken by surprise by this feature. The man seemed to be enjoying himself as he moaned, "Suck my balls, slave!" So it was called 'balls'. Balls were what the poor captive girl was being forced to lick and suck, and Dominique knew she would be forced to do the same. Standing with her arms shackled the nun was forced to watch the cruel debasement of this poor girl. The naked sister became aware that wetness was running down the insides of her own thighs, trickling from her shaved sex. This was just as it had happened at prayer, surely another sign. The obedient slave placed her mouth over the end of the cock once again, and as the pirate thrust forward into her face the length seeming to disappear. Dominique realized with a shock that the girl was taking the hard rod of flesh down her throat. Was such a thing even possible? Apparently so, for the man's erection repeatedly entered her mouth without stopping, until her nose was pressed into his wiry pubic hair and his balls rested on her chin. The horrified sister could see the girl's neck bulge when the cock entered her throat, and wondered why she didn't choke. While he used her mouth in this terrible way, the man took hold of the silver chain that ran from the girl's collar to her nipple ring. He tugged on it, pulling her pierced nipple hard and obscenely stretching out the end of her breast. With each tug on her breast the slave girl moaned deep in her cock-stuffed throat, but Dominique could not tell whether it was from pain or from pleasure. At that moment Hutton pinched one of Sister Dominique's erect nipples in each hand and began to pull and twist the tender flesh. Little shocks of pain and pleasure shot through her own breasts. Sister Dominique felt dizzy, her face and neck flushed red and sweat glistening on her smooth skin. She was feeling a bewildering mixture of fear, humiliation and arousal. The prospect of being used like this girl terrified her, but also seemed a fitting part of her inevitable suffering. Hutton, still pulling on Dominique's nipples, looked at her and said, "What is the matter, darling? Getting a bit warm, are we?" She looked at his cruel face and gasped, "Please, let me go. In the name of God have mercy!" "Nonsense, have no thoughts of freedom, my girl. You have made your choice, and your fate is set. Are you ready to try having a man in your mouth?" "Oh, Mon Dieu, non!" she replied. "I cannot, please!" "We shall see about that," he said. "I expect that soon you will beg me for the chance." "No, never! I am a virgin, I am a nun. I will never consent!" Dominique looked at the tormented girl, kneeling before the man with her hands bound behind her as he defiled her mouth. The nun looked down at the young woman's naked bottom, her voluptuous cheeks resting on her bare heels, and suddenly realized that there was something protruding from between her bottom cheeks. It was a circular object, but she couldn't tell where it was coming from. The Captain saw where the nun was staring and said, "Looking at her butt plug, are you darling?" Dominique was speechless. What was a butt plug? Was there something inside this girl's bottom? Black Jack Hutton walked over to the kneeling Duchess and released the clasp that held her arms behind her back. The man in her mouth pulled out as Hutton put his hand on her neck and pushed her forward. She obediently placed her hands on the floor, getting on all fours. Her large breasts hung beneath her and swayed, juices dripped from her chin, and her naked rear faced the chained nun. Sister Dominique found herself fascinated by the faded red whip marks on the girl's body. Dominique could now see that the object protruding from between the girl's cheeks was actually inside her bottom hole. Below that the Duchess's shaved pussy was swollen and red, the lips open and covered with wetness. Her thighs were streaked with trickles of juice. Hutton placed his fingers on the base of the butt plug and pushed it around in a circle, stretching the ring of muscle that gripped the leather device. To Dominique's horror the Duchess responded by moaning and wiggling her bottom. Then he slowly began to withdraw it, and the nun watched as the girl's anus stretched around a wide part that had been inside her behind. When the plug was withdrawn Therese's back hole did not close immediately, but remained open. Hutton easily slid two fingers inside her ass and twisted them around. "See? Her bottom is well prepared. She has been trained to use all the openings of her body for a man's pleasure," he said to the terrified nun. "As will you." "No, oh no! I beg you in the name of all that is holy. I am a virgin," she whimpered. "Yes, we know. That will be remedied soon," he said without pity. A thought occurred to the desperate nun, and she said, "But if I am to be sold as a slave, would you not want me to be a virgin?" "Hardly, darling. It is not as if you are being sold as a wife. A sex slave is expected to be trained in all the skills of pleasure." As he said this he took the butt plug, which he still held in one hand, and placed it in front of Therese's face. Without hesitation and to the utter shock and disgust of Sister Dominique, the slave girl began licking the object that just been in her behind. "So obedient, so willing," he said softly as she wrapped her lips around the butt plug, "such a natural slut," and he patted her on the top of her head like an obedient pet. "Do you want to have a nice big cock in your bottom hole, Therese?" he asked the slavering girl. "Oui, monsieur. Enculez-moi, s'il vous plait," the Duchess quickly replied with her eyes cast down. Dominique was nearly frantic and could not stop herself from crying out, "Never, never! I swear I will never submit to such abuse!" One of the men removed the plug from Therese's mouth and replaced it with his fat, erect cock. She sucked noisily on the thick rod, her lips stretching to get it inside her mouth. At the same time another pirate knelt behind the Duchess and placed the head of his penis at the entrance to her ass. He pressed forward, and the slave's bottom engulfed the invader, swallowing the length without difficulty. Sister Dominique, arms and legs spread and immobile in her chains, was crying now. She could not close her eyes or look away as she watched this poor girl take a man at each end, appearing to enjoy such depraved mistreatment. The throbbing heat between her own legs scared and confused the young nun, who silently prayed for God's guidance as tears ran down her face. With her attention riveted on the scene before her she did not notice as Hutton took an object from a hook on the wall. It was a short, heavy flogging whip, with a full thirty leather strips a foot-and-a-half long attached to a thick handle. Her eyes flew open wide and she shrieked loudly in shock as he brought the tails down on her hip with the full strength of his muscled arm. On the cushions, Therese continued to suck and to thrust back at the cock in her ass, paying no attention to the screams coming from the bound and spread nun. Black Jack Hutton proceeded to flog the poor virgin on her hips, thighs and back. The leather strips were half-an-inch wide and unweighted, so they did not cut her flesh but stung painfully, especially over the areas where he had dripped the hot wax, and it turned her skin a deep rosy hue. Sister Dominique writhed and twisted in her bonds, pleading for mercy but unable to avoid the lash. Hutton now turned his attention to her exquisite behind. The young nun's bottom was round and firm, its fullness accentuated by the narrowness of her slender waist. The cheeks jiggled tightly as he worked her ass over, whipping her mercilessly. "Arretez! Arretez! Je vous en prie!" she yelled, only dimly conscious of the fact that this was the calling for which she had prayed. "There will be more torture," he said as he hit her again, "until you beg me to let you suck a cock." "Oh please, I cannot," she gasped. "I could never beg for that!" "We shall see," he said as he moved around to the front of the spread girl. He gave her a minute to catch her breath, not wanting her to pass out and avoid the suffering. Then he lashed the leather strips across her tender, firm breasts, bringing more shrieks and pleas from the helpless nun. Her nipples were puckered and hard, and the lovely globes became swollen from the flogging. When she had screamed herself hoarse, the cruel pirate dropped the whip to the floor and pinched her nipples, pulling on them and stretching the ends of her reddened breasts. He slid his hand down her flat belly and over her hairless mound to cup the wet flesh between her spread thighs. She was soaked, cream running down her legs. On the floor, the two men were building to a climax, thrusting faster into the Duchess and rocking her body between them. Hutton ran his fingers over Sister Dominique's naked pussy, spreading her juice over the bare lips and sliding up and down the center of her creaming slit. He briefly teased the opening to her virgin cunt, then slid his finger up to the top of her lips and found her hard little clit. She could not suppress a moan as he flicked the sensitive nub, and she found herself staring at the sight of the slave/Duchess being used so cruelly. Once again the devout young nun could feel that she might experience one of her religious ecstasies, a true sign from God that this was the calling for which He had chosen her. Aware that the panting girl was nearing a climax, Hutton eased off her clit, lightly spreading her slippery wetness over her engorged pussy lips. Watching Therese suck on the cock in her mouth, Sister Dominique realized that she, too, wanted to taste a cock. She was horrified at the thought, but could not deny the urge she had to feel a penis in her mouth, to be forced to suck on the hard flesh of a man. The trembling nun stared transfixed as the man inside the willing girl's bottom hole pulled out, his fat hard-on glistening with juices. "God help me," thought the nun, "I want to taste that thing!" But she would never ask for it, she could only accept being forced against her will to commit such an unspeakable act. Therese sat back on her heels again as the two men stood in front of her, both their cocks inches from her face. She opened her lips wide, and the man who had been in her ass slid his dripping cock into her offered mouth. Dominique was shocked to see that the girl was not repelled by the fact that he put it in her mouth straight from her bottom. In fact Therese sucked enthusiastically, as if working toward some goal. Of course the innocent nun had no idea what that goal was, but Therese did and she bobbed her head frantically to make him come. Pulling her face off the cock with a loud slurp Therese turned to the other man and sucked him in again. Back and forth she feasted on the two hard cocks, moaning and leaking pussy juice onto the insides of her thighs. Hutton kept Dominique just short of a climax with his fingers, the sweet nun moaning now and unconsciously licking her lips. What Sister Dominique saw next was, of course, completely unexpected as one of the cocks shot a long streamer of white fluid into the Duchess's open mouth. The sheltered nun, stunned by this new revelation, held her breath as she watched the girl's mouth fill with the thick juice. Of course, she realized, this was his seed. She had had a vague notion that men produced the seed of procreation, now she was seeing it spilled into the kneeling slave-girl's open lips. Before he was finished, the other man began to discharge his seed, too. It shot onto Therese's face, covering her cheeks and forehead as the contents of her mouth spilled over her full lower lip and ran over her chin. The white fluid fell between her breasts, running down her belly and over her bare mound to collect in the slit of her shaved pussy. As she gulped down the juice in her mouth, the sperm-drenched Duchess slipped her hand between her own thighs and rubbed the hot come into her pussy. Her fingers were thickly coated with the fluid as she spread it around on her clit, adding more lubrication to her already sodden crotch. It only took a few seconds of the sweet friction for her to reach a climax, and she jerked and gasped as the waves of pleasure swept over her. Sister Dominique was astounded to see that the kneeling woman was apparently experiencing the same kind of religious ecstasy that she herself had known. Therese fell back on the pillows, her legs spread wide as she shamelessly rubbed at her slit. Dominique could see juices squirting from the girl's open pussy to splash onto her thighs. When the spasms subsided and Therese stopped moaning, Dominique was almost delirious with the need to feel that same fulfillment. She was trembling, shaking in her chains, the insides of her legs coated to below her knees with the flow from her hairless pussy. She looked at Black Jack Hutton through slitted eyes and whimpered, "Please, please don't do that to me. Don't force me to suck your cock. I'd rather be whipped than have to put your big hot cock between my lips. If you spilled your seed inside my mouth I would die of shame." Tears ran down her cheeks as Sister Dominique pleaded with the pirate Captain. It was what they both wanted; he knew she was at last begging to suck his cock, and she was convinced that she was refusing to submit. If she was forced to commit this barbarous act it would be without her consent, and therefore was part of the suffering she must endure. Hutton unfastened the nun's restraints as the Duchess lay on the cushions whimpering softly. He reattached Dominique's wrists in front of her and pulled her over to the rug, forcing her to her knees next to the semiconscious sex slave. The Captain, already shirtless, untied his belt and stepped out of his trousers. The naked, muscled pirate faced the kneeling sister, his already hard cock close to her tear-streaked face. She looked up at the cruel sight of his scarred cheek and eyepatch, and pleaded with him, "No, don't make me do this. Please don't force me to take your cock in my mouth. Whip me if you must, but don't put that in my mouth." Her mention of whipping gave him an idea, and he gestured to one of the men to hand him the flogger that he had dropped. Sister Dominique cringed, her young flesh already covered in red streaks. "Put it in you mouth, sister," he warned. She shook her head, silently refusing. The result was a stroke of the leather to her smooth back, bringing a gasp from her lips. He hit her again, and again, then he twisted his hand in her glossy black hair and pulled her face into his crotch. His erect cock touched her mouth, smearing her lips with the clear juice leaking from the tip. He pulled on her hair again, and when she reflexively opened her mouth to gasp he forced the head of his cock into her lips. The taste of his manhood on her tongue made her salivate, and the young nun could not stop herself from closing her lips over his cockhead and pressing her tongue against the underside. The masculine scent filled her nostrils as she savored the sensation of having a hard cock inside her mouth. The pre-come that leaked from the end coated her tongue and ran to the back of her throat. Without consciously meaning to she found herself swallowing, taking his juice down her throat. With his fat erection stretching her lips, she looked up at him with pleading eyes. Black Jack Hutton had trained so many women captives that he knew what she needed. He had known from the minute he saw her standing before him in the convent. The look in her eyes had said that she yearned to be dominated and used by cruel, hard men. She needed to be forced, to be free of guilt while she surrendered to her submissive lust. The Captain smiled down at the nun's cock-stuffed face and brought the lash down on her back, but with somewhat less force than before. She responded with tentative suction on the head of his dick, and as he methodically flogged the kneeling sister she began to apply more effort. Soon she was concentrating on her sucking, working harder as each blow fell. Her bound hands gripped his leg for balance as she began to bob her head, making little moaning noises in her throat. Released from all guilt by the flogging, she became absorbed in her task, losing herself in hungry cock-sucking. She forced her face down on the hard flesh, letting it slam against the back of her throat. Sister Dominique was engulfed in the ecstasy of being forced to use her virgin mouth to service this cruel pirate chief. Nearby, Therese was watching Hutton mouth-fuck the kneeling nun and was becoming aroused again. She crawled over, bringing her pretty face close to the nun's mouth to watch as Sister Dominique devoured Hutton's prick. Saliva and pre-come were dripping from her mouth, and as it hung from her chin in strings, Therese could no longer contain herself. She leaned closer, stuck out her tongue and licked the juice from the nun's face. Dominique was momentarily startled when she felt Therese's tongue on her face, but she was beyond resisting anything now. In her current state of submissive lust nothing was too depraved. She knew she must suffer without limit to fulfill God's plan for her. Therese continued to clean the nun's face as needed, occasionally ducking down to steal a lick at Hutton's ball sac. The Duchess slid her hand between Dominique's thighs and played with her bare, wet pussy while the nun reveled in her forced cock-sucking. When the pretty noblewoman's fingers found her clit, Sister Dominique's sucking became frenzied. She had seen what happened to the young Duchess, and she too wanted a man's seed in her mouth. She convinced herself that it was not of her own choosing, that he was going to shoot the white juice in her mouth no matter what, so she must work to end the torture. "Bless my soul, men, she sucks like a seasoned whore!" exclaimed the pirate Captain as the virgin nun sucked and slurped on his purple cock. The insulting comparison added to the sister's humiliation and drove her lust even higher. She submitted to this abuse with vigor, knowing it was her calling from God. Hutton was getting closer now, thrusting faster into her hot mouth. She felt his erection swell even more in her mouth, then suddenly her tongue was bathed in his steaming hot sperm. It washed over her gums and teeth, sliding along her tongue to the back of her throat. Not knowing what else she could do she swallowed rapidly, gulping down the pirate's seed as fast as it filled her mouth. As hard as she tried she could not swallow all of the monster load, and some of it leaked from her lips. As rivulets of the come ran from the corners of her mouth, Therese tried to catch it with her tongue, licking the sperm off the nun's sweating face. When he finished coming in Sister Dominique's mouth, Hutton pulled his semi-erect cock from her lips. As he did so Therese pressed her mouth against the darling nun's sperm-covered lips and thrust her tongue into the surprised sister's mouth. She slid her tongue along Dominique's, sucking the last of the Captain's sperm into her own mouth and then letting it slide back into the other girl's lips. When she broke the kiss and pulled back, a thin string of pirate come connected her lips to the nun's. Sister Dominique was gasping for breath, her eyes red and unfocused as she recovered from the ordeal. She still had not reached the ecstasy she craved, but she knew when it suited the Lord it would happen. Perhaps she had not yet suffered enough. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 05 One: Approaching Jamaica After a week at sea the pirate ship Fortune Hunter drew near Port Royal on the island of Jamaica. The crew scrambled up the rigging to secure the sails and moved about the deck preparing to drop anchor, while below the women who constituted the precious cargo were being prepared for the slave market. Therese du Maurier tried to remember her life as the Duchess de Montfort, and although it had only been a few weeks since Captain Antoine Renoir had first taken her from the French ship Roi du Soleil, her former life now seemed a distant memory. Renoir and the crew of The Golden Sword had used her in the most rude and humiliating ways, and although she had tried to resist, to her shame she had eventually capitulated. Therese had responded to their perverse torments by becoming aroused until she was consumed with lust, finally cooperating in her own ravishment. At first she was ashamed of the way in which she had surrendered to their abuse, but before she could come to terms with her sinful behavior she had been stolen from Renoir's compound on Tortuga by Captain Black Jack Hutton and the crew of the English pirate ship Fortune Hunter. Whatever she had suffered at the hands of the French buccaneer paled by comparison with the depraved acts committed by Renoir's English enemy. Although Renoir had apparently intended to bring her into the pirate community on Tortuga, Hutton and his crew were preparing her to be sold as a sex slave at the market in Port Royal. While aboard the Fortune Hunter she was tormented horribly, whipped and ravished repeatedly. The men had taken a particular liking to her round and lovely rear, and had concentrated on training her to use her bottom for pleasure. To her own shame she found that she had a particular affinity for that mode of sexual expression, and her will to resist was eventually broken. She had realized that these men could do to her whatever they pleased, no matter how vile and degrading, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. What was worse, she knew that whatever the obscene uses to which they put her, she would always become aroused and lose control, turning into a shameful slut. In fact, the worse they treated her, the more pain and humiliation they heaped on her trembling flesh, the greater her lust became. It was at this realization that she knew she truly was a slave, and that her pleasure came from the complete subjugation of her will to another's. From that point forward, Therese accepted her new life and gave herself over to the pleasures of the flesh and the joy of pleasing her masters. Therese had been taken from her cell below deck, as had the other four women, and brought to the large room where each of them had begun her ordeal. Three had been on the ship when Therese was brought aboard: Ingrid, the blonde Danish girl who had been taken from St. Croix; Dolores, the Spanish milk-slave; and Fiona, the English girl who had been unable to speak when Therese first saw her, due to the presence of a ball-gag in her mouth at the time. Since then the crew had added one more woman, an unfortunate young nun named Sister Dominique, who had been taken from a convent in Panama. Like Therese, she was French and from a noble family. Therese had been used in some of the innocent girl's sexual awakening, and the two formed a strong friendship in the brief time they had known one another. Sister Dominique believed that she was carrying out God's plan for her, and regarded each obscene act of degradation she was forced to perform for the amusement of the filthy crew as a test of faith from the Lord. And if pain was involved it drove her to even higher levels of ecstasy. Therese had been a pious girl, educated in a convent, and was not inclined to question the judgment of a holy sister. Besides, even her friend Isabella, another former aristocrat whom she had met at the pirate compound on Tortuga, had explained that the wonderful pleasure they received from being used as sex-slaves by their captors was God's way of sparing them the suffering. She truly came to believe it when Captain Hutton had cruelly pierced her nipple with a large needle in front of the assembled crew and she had reacted by experiencing a wrenching climax. She now wore a gold ring in that nipple. When she witnessed the crewman Davy piercing both of Sister Dominique's nipples and the nun going wild with lust in response, her belief was confirmed that it was God's will that they receive pleasure from their captivity. While they waited to learn why they had been brought to this room Therese looked at the other women; all beautiful, each one naked with her wrists manacled and connected by a short chain. Although there was nowhere for them to escape to on the ship, it reminded them of their servile status, as did their nudity. They were forbidden to close their legs in the presence of their masters, so they stood with their feet apart and their heads down in an attitude of obedience. As she looked at her sisters in captivity, Therese realized that all of the women had the most attractive complexions over their entire bodies. Their skin had a soft sheen that seemed to glow. She then understood the reason for some of the things that had been done to them. Besides the fact that they were all completely devoid of body hair, they were bathed every day and massaged with tropical oils by Smitty, the Training Master. But Therese suspected that the most important reason for their lovely skin was the frequent application of hot male seed directly from the end of a squirting cock. Even now the former Duchess du Maurier could feel the moisture starting to collect between her legs as she thought about hard pirate cocks surrounding her and shooting come on her body and in her mouth. Because her pussy was shaved she had no hair to help hold back her juices, and trickles of wetness escaped her slit and crept down the insides of her thighs. When first arriving on board, each of the girls had been "initiated" by a series of humiliating sexual torments that had driven them nearly insane with lust. During those orgies they were brought to multiple climaxes by the diabolical buccaneers. This served to introduce them to the pleasures they could experience; after that they were kept in a state of desperate arousal, used repeatedly by the crew but not allowed to come. Of course sometimes there was nothing their captors could do to prevent it. Occasionally, while being used in some degrading way by the men, one of the girls would go over the edge and climax without any contact with her dripping pussy. Therese herself had come when her nipple was pierced, and once she had seen Sister Dominique climax while being whipped. And nothing could have stopped the Spanish girl from spending when the Training Master had seized her aching breasts and milked her in front of the crew. But these incidents were rare, and did nothing to ease the terrible need the women were feeling. For Therese it was a pulsating, vibrating fuck-need – a constant yearning to have every hole in her body stuffed with hard cock. She had seen the other women begging for release when she came aboard, but she foolishly thought she would be able to resist. Even the nun had not been able to resist. Poor Sister Dominique, an innocent virgin less than a week ago, had become perhaps the most abandoned libertine of the group. There seemed to be no act too perverted, no abuse too humiliating for the sister to accept. As long as they forced her, especially if they hurt her, she would give herself over totally to all-consuming lust. A flogging while being forced to suck cocks, the piercing of her breasts, clamps on her pussy lips—all were like a bolt of sexual lightening to her brain. When Hutton had introduced Sister Dominique to the exquisite pleasure/pain of having a fat pirate cock stretching her virgin rectum the nun had gone wild, eventually begging them to fuck her ass while she held her own plump asscheeks spread wide open. The enjoyment of this forbidden act was another thing that she and Dominique had in common. Therese managed to steal a quick glance at Captain Hutton's cruel face as he entered the room with Smitty and two other men. She had become used to the eye patch and long scar down his cheek. In fact she now experienced a jolt of excitement, a thrill of combined fear and sexual arousal whenever she saw him. She was ready for whatever new abuse he might be planning for her; anything as long as there was a chance she would be allowed to come. Her pussy ached so, she could think of nothing else. The depraved pirate slowly walked along the line of naked women, studying them intently. When he reached Dolores he lifted one of her taught, swollen breasts as if judging the weight. "She's full again, I see. Good," he remarked. "Aye, Captain," said Smitty. "We been milking ‘er regular, keepin' it flowing, as it were." Therese could see Dolores's face flush pink with shame as they talked about her milk-filled breasts. Hutton continued up and down the line, checking their skin, touching their hair. When he ran his hand down Therese's side and over her hip, feeling the smoothness of her skin, she trembled and felt weak in her knees. He placed his hand between her legs and stroked his fingers over her smooth pussy lips. "And our Duchess is wet again." "A juicy wench she is Captain," chuckled Smitty. Therese could not suppress a whimper as Hutton slid his finger into the slippery slit and brushed it over her erect clit. He laughed at her desperation, then wiped the moisture on her unpierced nipple and continued his inspection. He stopped next at the English girl. She had been Lady Fiona Worthington, now she was simply Fiona, the sex slave. He cupped a silken cheek of her smooth bottom, then slid his hand down to her pussy from behind. His finger probed her moist hole, sliding in without resistance. She obediently spread her legs further, encouraging him to probe deeper. In a barely audible voice she whispered, "Take me. Please sir, take me now. I must have a cock inside me." "You shall have your wish soon enough, m'lady," he said. "This was a tough one, eh Smitty?" "Aye. She took a little longer than most to break. But they all do in the end." "Or in the mouth, mate!" Hutton joked, referring to Lady Fiona's initial resistance to using her mouth on a hard pirate dick. As he talked he moved his finger around inside her slick pussy, causing her to groan loudly and try to hump back on his finger. "You don't mind sucking a cock now, do you m'lady?" Hutton continued to address her with mock deference. "Oh God, no! I'll suck you right now. Please sir, let me suck you!" "Patience, m'lady, patience," he said as he wiped his hand on her hip and moved to the blonde girl. Ingrid's hair was quite pale, almost white, as were her brows, lashes and even her sparse pussy fur. Blondes such as this commanded a premium at the slave market, so although the rest of her body had been depilated as with the other girls, the pirates had decided to leave her pubic hair intact. Both the Danish girl's nipples were pierced, and Hutton grasped a ring with each hand and tweaked them, stretching the ends of her breasts. She gasped and bent forward to relieve the pressure, groaning as he released her nipples and placed a hand between her legs. Hutton patted the blonde mound as if petting an animal and cooed, "What a pretty pussy!" The other men laughed uproariously, as if he had made some particularly clever joke. The young nun was next. She, too, wore rings in her pierced nipples. Hutton pulled them, harder than he had with Ingrid, because he knew the effect that pain had on the French Sister. She moaned and pleaded with him. "Please, sir. Please don't do that." Although Hutton would never tolerate such impertinence from the other slaves, he allowed it from Dominique because he found her pleas so charming; especially since she knew that begging them to stop would only increase their efforts. And the more they tormented her the more aroused she became. Although Sister Dominique was by now used to being naked in front of the horrible men, she was still ashamed of the copious juice that leaked from her slit and dribbled down her thighs. She knew that they saw this as proof of her weakness, and that it caused the men to hold her in low regard, certain she was a slut. How could she explain that this was the ecstasy from God, given to help her endure her sacrifice? The men watching made rude comments while pointing at the hairless slit between her open legs, and the humiliation just inflamed her lust. "What a whore!" remarked one. "Look at the wench leaking juice!" "Is that holy water, Sister?" Smitty asked. The pirates laughed as a new flood bubbled from the young nun's pussy and ran down her leg. Therese felt pity for her friend, but also could not help becoming more aroused herself as she watched the sexual torment. The Captain pulled the rings until the ends of Dominique's sensitive breasts were stretched out several inches and she was whimpering deliciously. As he released the tortured flesh Hutton leaned over and whispered in her ear. "You are a wanton little slut, aren't you Sister?" Her eyes remained cast downward as she nodded in shame. "Oui, monsieur," she confessed. "All right then, Smitty. Let us prepare the ladies for Port Royal." "Aye, Captain. Ready in a trice, they'll be," he answered. Two: Port Royal The Fortune Hunter dropped anchor between Gun Cay and Fort Charles. Although the English governor had no quarrel with the buccaneers who preyed on Spanish and French ships, the practice was no longer openly supported by the English crown and official attitudes towards the pirates were not as tolerant as they had been just a few years earlier. Therefore Captain Hutton preferred to stay where they could leave quickly, rather than sail past the fort and be confined in Kingston Harbor. They boarded a skiff and rowed for Port Royal, the beautiful Blue Mountains visible to the north. As the rowboat came alongside the pier Davy grabbed the mooring rope and secured the small vessel. Seated at the bow was Captain Hutton and at the stern sat Smitty. Between them the five captive women sat with their heads down, their faces concealed by the cowls of their hooded robes. Under the loose cloaks their hands were manacled and chained. There was still the possibility that once on shore one of them might get a sudden notion to attempt escape. The men knew that this would be exceedingly foolish, as an unescorted young beauty would not remain at liberty for long in this lawless port; the girls were infinitely safer under the protection of Hutton and his men. Still, it was entirely possible that some thieving bilge rats would try to relieve the buccaneers of their fair treasure, despite the dangerous-looking nature of the women's escorts. For this reason they had taken the precaution of concealing the ladies under cloaks as they helped them onto the dock and led them down to Front Street, which ran along the waterfront. When the Fortune Hunter had first been sighted approaching, one of the boys who watched for arriving ships ran to alert Don Roberto Spinoza, the wealthy Spanish slave dealer. The lad knew that the Fortune Hunter was one of the ships that brought women for Don Roberto's market, and the information earned him an entire silver peso from the porter at the house of the generous merchant. As a result of the information there was already a coach waiting for them by the dock. The passenger compartment was enclosed and the windows covered with curtains, thus keeping the contents shielded from greedy eyes. The sturdy carriage was discretely unadorned, with the exception of an ornate letter ‘S' carved into the door. Smitty rode inside with the girls while Hutton and Davy climbed up top with the driver. Except for Sister Dominique all the young ladies were already quite used to riding in coaches, although rather more elegant ones than that in which they now rattled over the muddy road toward Lime Street. In about twenty minutes the carriage stopped and the door was opened. The beauties squinted at the bright sunlight as the men helped them out into the courtyard of a compound consisting of a large residence and several smaller buildings. A servant led them into a side door of the house, where the men scraped their boots before entering into a large room. The floors were covered with ornate Persian rugs, and thick tapestries draped the mahogany walls, but the room was empty of furniture. The servant clapped his hands and several men entered carrying four upholstered chairs and a small table. When they had placed the chairs around the table and left, the servant spoke to the pirates. "Don Roberto extends his welcome to you," he said. "Please sit and my Master will be with you momentarily." The buccaneers sat down, leaving the five ladies standing, still cloaked. The women kept their gazes lowered, as if afraid to look around. But the pirates had no such hesitation, and studied the luxurious surroundings with keen interest. "It's a rich life the man gets from dealing in these goods, eh Captain?" Davy remarked. Hutton was about to reply when a voice from behind them said, "That is because I provide the finest merchandise for the most discriminating buyers, senor." The pirates and the ladies turned to see a handsome, distinguished-looking gentleman of about forty-five years standing in the doorway. Don Roberto Spinoza, although a Spaniard in an English-held town, was first and foremost one of the most successful merchants in Jamaica. He often joked that Money was his nationality. "Don Roberto! So good to see you again," said Hutton as all they stood and he extended his hand to the man. "And you also, amigo," replied Don Roberto as he shook the pirate's hand. "These are my shipmates, Smitty and Davy," Hutton said, and the other men shook hands. "Lads, this is the famous Don Roberto." "Perhaps you meant to say ‘infamous', eh Jack?" said Don Roberto. "Sit, please, let us share some Jerez." As the men sat a servant entered carrying a tray with a decanter and four glasses. He placed it on the little table and poured the sherry. The men lifted the glasses and Don Roberto said, "To a mutually profitable transaction," as they drank the rich amber liquid. "And to beautiful ladies," he then added, acknowledging the presence of the captive women for the first time. The cloaks concealed all but their faces, yet even this limited view provided an indication of their assets. "I think you will be pleased with our goods, Padrino. They were carefully selected, and Smitty has done his usual admirable job of training." "Well, by all means, let us see what we have," said Don Roberto as he stood and approached the anxious girls. Hutton gave a slight nod to Davy and Smitty, who rose and began removing the hooded robes. Soon the women stood before them wearing only slippers, manacles and thin cotton shifts that ended at mid-thigh. Though cotton was significantly more costly than the more common linen, the pirates were sophisticated traders and knew the value an attractive wrapper could add to a package. However, since the Spaniard was perhaps the shrewdest slave dealer in Jamaica, such adornment would have no influence on his judgment. "Please, my friends," he said to the men, "in this room we do not need to shackle such lovely ladies." The implication that bonds might in fact be necessary in other circumstances was not lost on Therese, who felt her heart jump at his words. As the buccaneers removed the manacles and chains all five women reflexively rubbed their wrists. Don Roberto surveyed the women, impressed by their quality. He knew there was no point in offering to buy them outright, since the pirates would certainly prefer a consignment arrangement when such desirable merchandise was being offered. He first approached the tall Scandinavian girl, Ingrid. Although her eyes were almost level with his she avoided looking directly at him. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 05 "Look at me, querida," he said as he gently touched her under the chin. As her gaze came up to his he said, "Ah, such lovely eyes, as blue as the Caribbean itself." He then proceeded to inspect her face, looking at her teeth, tilting her head to each side, stroking her pale hair. A slight gasp escaped her lips as he raised her shift and began to inspect her bare body in a casual manner. He ran his experienced hands over her firm breasts, touching the rings in her nipples, then down her back to her round bottom. When his fingers traveled between her thighs and over her shaved pussy she let out a tiny whimper; whether from surprise or unfulfilled need was not clear. "Excellent," he said, letting the garment fall and moving on. Don Roberto inspected all the girls in a similar manner, while Hutton occasionally offered information or comments. The slave dealer showed interest in Dolores's taut breasts, squeezing the ends until droplets of milk dripped from the thick nipples and she bit her lower lip to avoid crying out. He was also pleased with the nun, nodding as the Captain explained that she would be quite desirable for a buyer who was, shall we say, ‘inclined toward cruelty'. Finally he came to Therese. "This is the Duchess de Montfort. She is a widow, so there is no husband to ransom her. A buyer might nonetheless be able to extract some treasure from other persons in her family for her return, but she is worth her weight in gold as a most charming and lusty plaything." Smitty spoke, "We have exploited her natural tendency to enjoy receiving boarders at the stern, as it were." "Ah," said Don Roberto, "a lovely slave well trained to use her bottom is a most desirable commodity. The auburn hair and green eyes make an exquisite combination, too. Raise your shift, slave," he commanded. Therese lifted the hem up to her waist, but the slave dealer was not satisfied. "All the way, girl. Let me see your breasts!" The young Duchess obeyed without hesitation. As she lifted the cotton garment higher the bottom caught for a moment under her large conical breasts. When she pulled it over the puffy pink tips the firm globes jiggled and shook as they tumbled free. Despite all she had been through she still found herself blushing as her breasts danced before the Spaniard. He pulled lightly on the gold ring in her nipple as he commented, "Only the right nipple pierced, eh?" "We thought a buyer might prefer to do the other for himself," said Hutton. "Yes, I know what you mean," he said as he walked around her, running his hand over the girl's firm, generous bottom. "Quite a fine trasero. Can she take a man without difficulty?" "Of course. Smitty trained her," replied Hutton. "Remove the shift and bend over, girl. Let Don Roberto inspect you." Blushing even more, Therese pulled the thin piece of clothing over her head, dropping it on the floor as she bent forward and moved her feet farther apart without having to be told. She made a small noise in her throat as Don Roberto fondled her bottom, his fingers tracing the deep warm crevice between the round cheeks. His hand moved between her thighs and along the slit of her shaved pussy, picking up her slippery wetness on his fingers. Then he probed deeper between her cheeks, spreading her lubrication on the puckered circle. She was breathing harder already, and she bit her lip as he pressed a finger into her bottom. "Yes, I see. No trouble at all," said the slave dealer as he moved the finger around in her ass, testing her ability to relax her back entrance. Therese was breathing hard now, and Don Roberto was pleased to see her sweet juice beginning to trickle down the insides of her thighs. "What about the others?" he asked as he removed his finger and retrieved the cotton shift from the floor. He wiped his hand on it as he handed it to Therese. "Any of them can take a man there, but she derives unusual pleasure from it. The nun is almost as good, and also has a wonderfully plump behind." "Yes, I noticed," replied the Don, and a charming pink glow spread through Sister Dominique's face. "Altogether a fine selection, Jack!" Don Roberto said. "We should all profit handsomely. The usual conditions are satisfactory, I presume?" "The buyer's entrance fee goes to you, plus twenty percent of the sale price?" "That's correct, amigo. I expect we should realize several thousand escudos from these fine ladies." "I love this life, my friend!" Black Jack said with a broad smile. "I surely do!" Three: Preparation Don Roberto Spinoza clapped his hands and two male servants entered. "Take our ‘guests' to the preparation room," he said, gesturing in the direction of the ladies. "And tell Antonio to ready them for a private sale." One of the servants led them out as the other gathered up their cloaks and followed. "There are several important buyers in town," said Don Roberto. "I will arrange a private showing for tomorrow evening. Tonight the ladies will rest, and tomorrow we will prepare them for the sale." "Excellent," said Hutton. He and his men downed the remainder of their sherry and moved toward the door through which they had entered. "My carriage is at your disposal, gentlemen," offered their host. "Thank you, Padrino, but I think we are more comfortable walking. No need to draw attention to ourselves." "I understand, Jack. I'll see you after the sale to settle up. Try not to spend your share before you get it, my friends," he said with a chuckle. This was, of course, a joke since as prodigal as buccaneers could be when set loose in Port Royal, their share was likely to be more than even they could spend in one night. The girls spent the night securely locked up, each in her own windowless room. When Therese awoke she had no idea what time of day it was. But soon the door to her room opened and a male servant entered with a tray upon which was some bread with cheese and a cup of water. Therese had not eaten much in the last couple of days, and the meager meal was welcome. The servant stood silently while she ate, then he indicated to her to follow him. She was permitted to attend to her needs at an outhouse, and from there was led to a bathing room. Therese was surprised to see a room as luxurious as any she had known as a Duchess back in France. At the side of the room was a basin large enough to stand in, and in the center of the room was a large, deep Roman-style bath. Gentle steam rose from the surface of the water, and it made her think of the hot spring on Tortuga where she had bathed with Isabella. Therese wondered if she would ever see her friend again, and realized sadly it was unlikely. The servant indicated she was to remove her shift and enter the basin, which she did. At this point in her adventures any reluctance to be nude in front of a strange man would have been pointless, and she had ceased to care long ago. He handed her a cake of a fragrant, translucent soap, and lifting a pitcher of water gestured to her to begin washing. One thing Therese did not need to be coaxed to do was bathe, a habit she had indulged so regularly in France that most people who knew her considered it a personal idiosyncrasy of hers. As the man poured warm water over her from the pitcher she used the soap, cleaning herself thoroughly. He nodded toward the top of her head, and as he poured the water over her hair she washed the auburn curls. After rinsing her down, instead of providing a towel he pointed to the large, steaming bath. She understood, and walked to the center of the room, where she entered the water. When she sat, the warm water covered her to the shoulders, and despite the uncertainty that lay ahead, she found herself relaxing in the soothing heat. The silent servant left, and Therese was allowed to enjoy a long soak in the bath as she contemplated her fate. She knew there was no way to avoid being sold as a pleasure slave. Perhaps Smitty had been right when he told her it was a life of luxury, and although she felt some shame to admit it to herself, she knew she seemed to experience intense pleasure in that role. It would be pointless to attempt to escape, there was nowhere to flee. After some time, the door opened and the man called Antonio entered. "Ahora bien, senorita, vamos!" he said as he held up a large towel, which he wrapped around her as she climbed out of the bath. As Antonio patted her dry, Therese tried to find out who the buyers were, but he would not say. "No need to concern yourself about that, darling. Just remember that the more you and the other ladies please these customers the better off you will be. Anyone who does not attract a buyer tonight will probably be sold to John Starr." "Who is John Starr?" asked Therese. "Just the owner of the biggest brothel in Port Royal. I wouldn't wish that on a dog!" Therese gasped at the prospect. She now realized that the alternative to being sold was undoubtedly a fate worse than death. Antonio took her to an adjoining room, which contained a leather-covered table, and made her lie face down. He then proceeded to pour a fragrant oil over her while he rubbed her down. He massaged her deeply from neck to feet, leaving her feeling even more relaxed and pampered. Perhaps this would not be such a terrible fate after all. Once again the French aristocrat felt the now-familiar tingling between her thighs as Antonio massaged her bottom, squeezing and rotating the firm globes. He turned her over and she closed her eyes as his oiled hands slid over her smooth skin. When Antonio concentrated his attention on her large, firm breasts she moaned faintly. He took some time to let his thumbs brush over her hard nipples, repeatedly grazing the sensitive nubs and gently tugging the ring in her pierced right nipple. As with the other women, Therese had been allowed only a taste of sexual release on board the pirate ship. Her unfulfilled lust was like a fire that had been repeatedly fed and then allowed to die back to a bed of glowing coals. Over the course of several weeks her diabolical captors had alternated between stoking the flames with maddening erotic tortures and then leaving her alone for a time to let her cool down. They seemed to know just how much she could take until she was mad with desire, begging to be allowed to come; then they would stop before she went over the edge. At this point it took very little to cause the fire to flare up. Soon Therese was moaning and spreading her long legs, letting the man see her shaved slit, open and glistening with her juices. "Please help me, please!" she begged. Antonio seemed sympathetic, and poured some of the oil on her inner thighs. As he rubbed it in, maddeningly close to her swollen pussy, Therese thought maybe he was going to give her some relief. "Ah, querida," he said softly. "You want something in your sweet pussy, you poor thing." "Yes, please! Your cock...your finger...anything!" she panted. As he bent closer to her beautiful face he could feel her hot breath. "How about my tongue?" he whispered. A little gasp escaped her lips at the prospect. "Would you? Oh God, would you?" His fingertips fluttered around the edges of her slit, spreading oil and pussy cream over her bare labia. "You would like that, would you not? My tongue sliding into your sweet pussy, flicking over your hard little clit, probing into your hot cunt?" he teased. "Yes, yes, please! Do it, lick me, lick me!" she was desperate now as she squirmed on the oiled leather, gripping the sides of the table. He removed his fingers from her tingling pussy lips and stood up. "Not tonight, senorita. There is much awaiting you, but it shall not come from me," he said with a wry chuckle. "Que lastima!" "No! Please, you cannot do this. How can you be so cruel?" she whimpered, almost crying now. "It is my job, senorita, just my job." Antonio finished the massage and then had her stand. He brushed Therese's beautiful hair until it shined, then he arranged the auburn curls on top of her head and fastened them up with several ivory combs. Taking her hands he buckled sturdy leather cuffs around her wrists. Each one had a polished iron ring securely fastened through the leather, and these he attached together with a metal clamp. He then placed a leather collar with a metal ring in the front around her neck and buckled it in the back. He clipped a fine silver chain to the ring in the collar and attached the other end to the ring in her right nipple. Next he produced a red silk cloak and draped it over her shoulders, tying it at the neck. Finally, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead before pulling the hood up over her head. Underneath she was naked and barefoot, her hands bound in front of her, but only her face showed. "It is time, querida. Remember, these men have paid handsomely just to attend the sale, and they expect to be entertained." he said as he led her from the room to where the buyers were gathered. "One final word of advice. Do not be afraid to resist. They like it better that way." Four: A Private Sale Therese was feeling an intense mixture of fear and excitement as Antonio led her to the selling room. She could not imagine what depraved acts they would force her to perform for their decadent amusement. And then she would be bought—bought by some evil stranger and taken to some unknown place to serve his sinful pleasures. And what if she was not bought? Antonio had made her fear that possibility more than the alternative. Life in a brothel in Port Royal would surely be unbearable. Antonio opened a door and they entered a small, dimly lit room. Every sound was muffled by the thick rugs and tapestries, creating a hushed feeling. Since draperies covered all sides of the room Therese could not tell if there were solid walls behind all of them, or if additional space lay beyond. Antonio directed her to a waist-high, sturdy post bolted to the floor. He drew her bound hands through the front of the cloak and fastened the connecting clamp to a thick iron ring in the post. Before he left the room, he spoke to Therese one last time. "I wish you luck," he said, and he was gone. Therese closed her eyes and tried to calm herself, deliberately slowing her breathing. Perhaps Sister Dominique was right, that whatever happens is God's will and they must accept their fate. Suddenly she realized that there were muffled sounds coming from the other side of the curtains. They sounded far away, as if the room were quite large beyond the draperies. Listening intently she thought she could make out men's voices, but not what they were saying. Suddenly her heart leapt in her chest as she heard a woman cry out! To make matters even worse, the sharp cry was followed by unmistakable sounds of laughter from the men. There was another cry, and another. They were coming with a regular rhythm, and then Therese could make out the sound of a sharp slapping sound preceding each cry. Mon Dieu! They were whipping some poor girl. It must be one of the other captive women from the ship! Suddenly the curtain moved, and a man came around one end. It was one of Don Roberto's servants, and he unhooked Therese's hands from the hitching post and attached a leather strap to the clamp at her wrists. Using it as a lead, he pulled her along, around the curtain and into the larger room. There were quite a few lamps around the room, providing more light than in the space she had come from. Therese saw seven large high-backed comfortable chairs arranged in a semi-circle in front of a slightly raised platform. Several of the chairs were occupied, while other men stood around the room; some were smoking pipes, others drinking rum. On either side of the platform were pillars that went from floor to ceiling, and there were shorter hitching posts in several locations. Everyone was looking at Therese as she was led into the room. And then the Duchess saw the source of the pitiful cries she had heard. It was Sister Dominique! Her back was turned to the room, and her shackled wrists were fastened above her head to a ring in one of the pillars at a height that required her to stand on her tiptoes. Therese could see that the girl's naked body was glistening with oil, and one of the men was standing next to her with a flogging whip in his hand. She wore only the leather restraints on her wrists and similar ones around her ankles, too, although they were not attached to anything. Dominique was still unaware that Therese had entered the room. Her back was criss-crossed with red streaks from the flogging, but the skin was unbroken, and the red streaks were faint. Dominique's lovely bottom, made even rounder by the way she was forced to stand on her toes, was also suffused with a deep rosy blush. The broad leather tails of the whip were about two feet long, apparently designed to inflict some pain, but not to actually injure. Of course, Therese realized, they would not want to damage the merchandise. The servant led Therese to a waist-high hitching post and fastened her hands to the iron ring, as they had been in the other room. He left as Don Roberto rose from one of the armchairs and came over to the Duchess. "Gentlemen, I hope you have enjoyed the lovely ladies we have offered for your approval. They are the most select in terms of beauty, talent and breeding" he said, addressing the buyers. "The rare golden-blonde Danish princess, Ingrid; the prodigious oral skills of Lady Fiona; and the highly excitable Spanish milk-slave, Dolores." "She certainly did get stimulated by the milking, didn't she?" remarked one of the men with a chuckle. "They are all lusty wenches, without a doubt," added another. "This nun certainly seems to accept punishment with spirit." "Yes, indeed," replied Don Roberto. "The lucky buyer of the fair Sister Dominique will find much amusement in, shall we say, testing her limits?" This was greeted with laughter all around, and a groan from the bound nun. The slave dealer then turned to the Duchess de Montfort. When he pulled the hood back, uncovering her head, there were a few murmurs of appreciation as the men saw her beautiful face and red hair. Therese kept her gaze lowered, afraid to look directly at the men. "Gentlemen, this is our ‘piece de resistance', a French Duchess, called Therese," he said. Sister Dominique heard this, but dared not turn her head to look. "I am sure you will appreciate her beauty, as well as her skill at entertaining a man. As with the other women you have seen tonight, despite her noble background she is at heart a shameless slut." This made Therese blush furiously, humiliated by the rude description, but even more embarrassed by the fact that these men now knew that she was of noble birth. To herself she thought, "He's right. I have been unable to resist my lustful urges. I am a slut." "I have brought her out for you to examine and enjoy at the same time as our lovely nun. They are both French, both are possessed of exceptionally lovely bottoms, and these girls work very well together." Don Roberto walked over to the pillar where Sister Dominique was bound and turned her around to face Therese and the buyers. When Therese saw the front of the young nun she moaned in sympathy. The cruel beasts had attached walnut-sized metal balls to the rings in Dominique's pierced nipples. The heavy weights pulled the ends of her lovely breasts down, tugging on the tortured flesh. Therese realized that each time the poor girl had been struck with the lash her struggles only increased the pressure from the swinging nipple weights. She looked at the helpless nun's tear-streaked face and saw the pleading look in her suffering blue eyes. The Duchess wished she could help her friend, but knew there was nothing she could do. Taming the Duchess de Montfort Ch. 05 The slave dealer slid his hand between Sister Dominique's oiled thighs and pressed up against her shaved pussy, feeling her slippery wetness. She closed her eyes and whispered, "S'il vous plait, monsieur. Je vous en prie! No more, please, no more. I will die of shame!" This made the cruel Spaniard chuckle as he told the buyers, "Our poor little nun is embarrassed, gentlemen." "Why so, I pray?" asked one of the men with mock innocence. "Is she not enjoying our little party?" "In truth, I do not know. Perhaps we should see," said the Don. With that he unfastened Dominique's bound hands from the ring in the pillar and led her to the raised platform. Pushing her to her knees he grasped one of her hands and attached the ring in the wrist manacle to the one in her ankle cuff. He repeated this with the other wrist and ankle, and when he was finished the helpless young nun was forced into a severe kneeling position. Her wrists and ankles were fastened together, her shoulders and face resting on the platform and her lovely round bottom in the air. He positioned her so that her rear was toward the men, the plump lips of her shaved sex displayed between her thighs and the harsh restraint forcing her behind open. Don Roberto lightly stroked his fingers over her hairless pussy, spreading the copious wetness that dripped from her slit. The helpless girl was whimpering and pleading for mercy. "No. please, do not shame me so. In the name of the Blessed Virgin have mercy!" The men found her pleas amusing and laughed at her. "Charming, charming," commented one buyer. "She certainly knows how to inspire her master." "Yes, I hope she will continue this sort of encouragement after she is purchased." "It is so much more satisfying to torture a slave who knows how to beg for mercy!" "Oh, no! NO!" moaned the young Sister in despair. "I cannot stand it, please stop!" "Perfect, perfect!" exclaimed one of the men. "Please continue!" Using both hands, Don Roberto pried open her soaking slit and showed the shiny pink inner flesh to the pleased buyers. "Indeed, she protests, but her pussy suggests that she is quite enjoying our attentions," he said. "As wet as any whore in Port Royal's best brothel!" "Oh, no, no! I am not a whore, I am a Holy Sister! This is a horrible sin, you must stop!" But Dominique's pleas were unconvincing. As the men watched, ribbons of sweet pussy cream trickled from her spread-open slit and ran down her thighs in glistening trails. "I take it back! The slut is even juicier than the best whore!" This comment was met with more laughter from the men and groans of shame from Sister Dominique. "I cannot help it, please. Don't laugh at me, I am a good girl!" "Is that so?" said Don Roberto. "We shall see, we shall see. I tire of holding the slut open." The Spaniard then unfastened the French nun's hands from her ankles, and slapping her on her smooth bottom he commanded her, "Spread your legs and reach back and hold yourself open, Sister. And be quick about it!" Dominique hesitated only a second, and received a sharp smack on her ass to remind her of the possible consequences of resistance. Shuffling her knees wide apart, she reached back and placed her hands on her bottom cheeks, pulling her cheeks apart and opening herself up to the buyers' stares. "Wider, slut! I want to see that pussy open as far as it can go. And stretch that asshole, too!" ordered the slave dealer. He was deliberately being especially crude, treating her like a whore to debase the poor nun. She obeyed, stretching her most intimate flesh apart as hard as she could stand, trying to please her master, hoping to avoid the whip. Her pussy lips were spread wide, revealing the opening of her tight cunt and her twitching clit button. Between her perfect bottom cheeks nestled her puckered little rear hole, beckoning to the lascivious flesh-buyers. The cruel Spaniard had the flogging whip in his hand, and as she desperately tried to obey he swung the leather tails and brought them down on Sister Dominique's smooth back. "More!" he barked. "Pull that ass open, slut." "Yes, Master, yes!" whimpered the poor girl as she placed her fingertips in the deep crevice between her lovely ass cheeks and pulled her bottom open as hard as she could. The little hole stretched, pulled with such force that the puckered flesh became smooth and the ring of muscle began to open. "That's it, open it up!" he commanded as he cracked the whip across her back again. The desperate nun was crying as she strained to obey, mumbling pleas for mercy and prayers to the Blessed Virgin. But in spite of her apparent extreme distress it was obvious to the delighted buyers that she was terribly aroused. For while tears ran down her lovely face and she begged for relief, the darling girl was creaming down her legs in a flood of pussy juice. So freely was the moisture streaming from her wide-open pussy that it ran down the insides of her perfect thighs to form little puddles on the platform beside her knees. The men were unable to simply watch now, and they gathered around the kneeling nun to fondle her bottom, inserting fingers into her soaking pussy and stretched-open back entrance. Feeling the men inside both her holes, Dominique lost all pretense of resistance. She began to hump back against the intrusions, moaning and trembling and pulling her behind open. "Ah, oui, oui. Touch me, please. Inside, inside, inside," she babbled. The French Sister was close to a climax now, and Don Roberto motioned to the men to back away so as to deny her that release. "Wha..? No, NO! Don't stop, please. Don't stop, I was so close!" cried the frustrated nun. The men laughed at her again, calling her a slut and wiping their hands on her black hair. Don Roberto pulled her to her feet and over to the pillar, where he reattached her wrists to the ring above her head and left her to simmer down. Through all this, Therese had been watching the sexual torment of her friend with growing excitement. Shifting attention to the bound Duchess, the slave dealer returned to Therese and spoke to the buyers, "Let us not neglect our dear aristocrat, gentlemen." The Spaniard untied the ribbon at her neck, removing the red silk cloak with a flourish. Now the murmurs of appreciation were less muted than before as the Duchess de Montfort's shapely form was revealed in all its naked, oiled beauty. Although she had already endured the most humiliating abuses at the hands of the pirates, she suddenly found herself ashamed of her nudity. She wished that she could run from the room and hide, but of course that was not possible. Therese looked at the men who stared at her. They were nothing like the pirates she had been with the last few weeks; they all had the air of wealth about them. She did not know who was there for himself, or who might be an agent for some anonymous buyer. Her thoughts were interrupted when Don Roberto unfastened her hands from the ring in the hitching post, then reattached one wrist by a short chain to the same post and used another length of chain to bind the other arm to an identical post about four feet away. She now stood before them with her arms bound out to the sides, her nakedness fully revealed. Don Roberto brushed his hand over her large, taut breasts, lifting the right one as if to show it off. He held it up while he took the silver chain in his other hand and tugged it, pulling on her pierced nipple. "She has been pierced once, leaving any further ornamentation in that regard to the discretion of the buyer." He dropped her breast, which trembled and shook as it settled back into its natural conformation. His hand slid down her quivering belly and over her shaved mound, a finger slipping along the center of her moist slit. "She is quite wet already. The slut responds to virtually any use of her body with arousal, as you will certainly determine for yourselves, gentlemen." Therese closed her eyes as she bit her lower lip in an attempt to suppress a groan as the slave dealer's finger brushed over her hungry clit. "Her specialty is the use of her sweet bottom for pleasure," he said as he unfastened her arms, turned her around with her back to the men and reattached both wrists directly to the ring in one post, without the length of chain. This forced her to bend over so that her succulent behind was presented to the buyers. Don Roberto used his boot to tap her feet apart. "Spread your legs, girl," he commanded. Therese hesitated just a second, and was immediately admonished with a sharp smack on her bare behind. She quickly moved her feet apart, painfully aware that her shaved pussy was on display and that she was very wet. How could she help it, after all the teasing and denial she had been subjected to? The Spaniard placed his palms on her bottom cheeks as he gently spread her open for the men. Therese could feel her lips opening as the air hit her moist inner flesh. "See how she wets herself? She is a delightfully juicy wench," he commented as he tugged her slit open wider for their inspection. Her most intimate flesh was open to their stares, from the twitching button of her erect clit to the dripping entrance to her body. Some of the men had left their chairs and approached the humiliated Duchess to get a closer look. Don Roberto pulled her behind open wider so they could see her puckered little asshole. "I am confident that you will find her most pleasing in all regards," he said as he spread her cheeks. Since first being captured this was the most embarrassed Therese had been. Don Roberto pinched one of her slick hairless pussy lips between his fingers and stretched it out a bit as he spoke to the attentive audience. "If I owned this wench I would have her wear jewelry in these lovely plump lips," he suggested as he tugged on the delicate flesh. "And I would enjoy piercing the slut's greedy little clit myself." He punctuated this comment with a few rapid flicks at the twitching nub of pleasure. She began to feel dizzy, and was afraid she might faint. "Please, sir, I beg you. I fear I may swoon," she whispered to Don Roberto. But the other men were very close, and also heard her pleas. Several responded with cruel laughs, increasing the poor girl's misery. "Let her get off her feet, Don Roberto," one of them said with a chuckle. "Yes, let's see her on her knees," another added. "Of course. On your knees, slave," the dealer ordered. Therese lowered herself to her knees, both hands still fastened in front of her to the hitching post. Her round bottom was raised and her legs apart, affording the buyers a lovely view of her spread ass. Her shaved lips glistened with her abundant juice, which had also spread along the deep crevice of her rear and over her puckered anus. Don Roberto rubbed the tip of his finger around the little ring of muscle and slipped it in without resistance. "She is well trained, and can be taken at the rear without difficulty." A servant stood at the side of the room next to a table upon which rested a number of objects and devices. The slave dealer gestured to him and pointed to a red velvet pouch on the table, which the servant quickly brought over. He withdrew his finger from Therese's bottom, accompanied by a small whimper from the girl. Opening the pouch he removed an object made of polished ivory. The blunt cone had a narrow constriction below the widest part, and a round base. It was a butt plug, about three inches in diameter at its widest. Don Roberto held it in front of the Duchess's face, and her green eyes widened in fear. She knew what its purpose was, although it was larger than the plug she had been made to wear onboard The Fortune Hunter. "I am certain you will have no problem receiving this in your lovely bottom, my dear. But I will offer you the opportunity to ease the process by wetting it with your mouth." Therese knew there was nothing she could do that would dissuade him from his cruel intentions. She had nothing to gain by resisting his suggestion, and at least it might make it easier on her. He placed it at her lips, and she gingerly stuck out her little pink tongue and licked at the rounded apex. Seeing the captive aristocrat trying to lubricate the butt plug seemed to amuse the men, who laughed and made rude remarks. She tried to gather as much saliva as she could and spread it around the cone as Don Roberto held it in front of her mouth. "Put it in her mouth. Let's see how well she sucks," suggested one man with an accent Therese could not place. The beautiful Duchess obediently parted her lips, opening her mouth wide to accept the obscene object. The Spaniard slid it into her mouth and she sucked vigorously on the ivory device, trying to cover as much of it as she could with her spit. Her mouth was spread wide as the fat cone entered. "Not bad, not bad at all. Is she as enthusiastic with a cock in her mouth?" asked another of the buyers. "Quite so," Don Roberto assured him. "She enjoys a cock in any place you wish to put it." When he withdrew the plug from her sucking mouth there was a wet slurping noise, and strings of saliva dripped down her chin. As Therese's eyes refocused on the plug she saw something she hadn't noticed before. Coming out of the base was a foot-long fall of glossy black horsehair. When it was inserted, she would have a tail! Don Roberto moved to her rear, and began by rubbing the tip along her juicy slit. Therese moaned as the smooth object parted her lips and slipped through the moisture, sending a jolt through her pussy as it bumped over her inflamed clit. Cream gathered on the tip, mixing with her saliva. Then he placed the point against the puckered circle of her bottom hole and rotated it around, spreading the abundant lubrication. Pressing forward, he pushed until her anus began to spread, opening as it had been trained to do. Therese suppressed any urge to resist the intrusion, trying as hard as she could to relax the ring of muscle and allow he object to enter her body as painlessly as possible. The Duchess's bottom hole expanded, accepting the cone as it spread her open. By the time the widest part was poised to enter her ass, she was alternately panting and holding her breath. Therese heard a moan, and looked up to see the bound nun staring intently at her, blue eyes wide and mouth open. At first she couldn't tell if Dominique was horrified or aroused, but it soon became clear when she realized that the girl was rubbing her slick thighs together in an apparent attempt to stimulate her pussy. Sister Dominique licked her lips as she stared at Therese. The realization that Dominique was getting aroused by watching her receive the device in her bottom was deeply stimulating to Therese, and the two girls looked into each other's eyes as the butt plug passed the widest part and the Duchess's sphincter closed around the narrow constriction. Don Roberto moved the plug around in her bottom, rotating and twisting it to loosen the passage, bringing more moans from the captive noblewoman. He stood back, giving the men a chance to see the result. Therese was on her knees, her arms bound in front of her to the hitching post, causing her back to be deeply arched. Her large breasts hung below her and her succulent ass was raised high. Protruding from between her round bottom cheeks was a glossy black tail, which hung down between her parted thighs. At each step in her captivity the Duchess de Montfort had suffered unspeakable humiliations. Whenever she thought she had reached the lowest state possible, her tormentors would devise some further degradation. Each time she thought nothing could be worse than what they were doing, they proved her wrong. Now she tried to take some small comfort in the fact that the tail that hung behind her was hiding her pussy, so that they couldn't see how wet and open she was. But even that relief was denied her when she heard one of them say, "Look how her juice runs down her thighs!" as he reached down and lifted the tail so they could see her swollen sex. Therese groaned with a mixture of lust and shame as unseen hands reached down and fondled her slick cunt. Don Roberto gestured to the servant again, and he approached the men carrying a large silver tray. It held an assortment of thin, flexible riding crops with a small flap of leather at the tip, and each of the men took one. "Gentlemen, feel free to indulge your inclinations. This slut will bring you much pleasure." With that the Spaniard struck a quick, stinging blow on Therese's raised ass, causing her to yelp and squirm her bottom to the delight of her audience. Others joined in, and soon the room was filled with the sounds of sharp cracks as the crops connected with her sizeable rear. The buyers were warming to their task, and began to expand their attentions to her back and the sides of her swaying breasts. "Look how the tail swings when she shakes her ass!" Don Roberto had wisely chosen not to gag the young beauty, knowing her cries and pleas would add to the amusement of his clients. "Aaagh! Please, I pray, please stop! Have mercy, it hurts, it hurts!" she implored the heartless tormentors. If anything, her misery only spurred them on to greater effort. She squirmed and writhed under the blows, shaking her ass and waving the horsehair tail. Her gyrations caused the combs in her hair to shake loose, and wavy tendrils of her long auburn locks fell over her back and shoulders. Since returning Sister Dominique to her pillar, the men had been ignoring the sweet young nun. Now she was writhing in her bonds, fairly dancing on her toes as she squeezed and rubbed her thighs together. Her pitiful struggles were causing the metal weights to bounce and tug on her distended nipples, but she could not stop. Her groans soon caught the attention of the men and two of them came over to her, crops in hand. They stood beside her for a moment, enjoying her discomfort, and then began to slap her with the stinging leather flaps on the ends of the crops. The blows traveled widely over her tortured body, striking her on the thighs, ass, belly and breasts. They seemed to take particular pleasure in aiming for the pierced tips of her firm breasts, hitting the rings and making the weights swing. The other men had stopped thrashing Therese to watch the punishment of Sister Dominique, and were drifting over to get a closer look. This gave the sobbing Duchess a moment of relief as she caught her breath and watched them shift their attention to the hapless nun. Two of the men put down their crops and took hold of Dominique's slender ankles, lifting her shapely legs until she was almost horizontal, her arms pulling on the ring attached to the pillar. The others then used the crops to pepper her exposed front with rapid smacks, even hitting her on the smooth mound of her hairless pubic area. Sister Dominique struggled vainly, twisting her arms and trying to kick her legs free. When she saw one of the men drop his riding crop and pick up the flogging whip they had used on her earlier, Dominique screamed and increased the fervor of her struggles. But it was to no avail. The two men holding her ankles backed away from each other, spreading her open. They pulled the poor nun's legs apart until they could go no further, causing her soaking crotch to be obscenely displayed. The shaved pussy lips were open and red, the swollen inner flesh dripping with her gushing cream. Her hot clit twitched and jerked as it protruded from its little hood, and her juices coated the insides of her silky thighs down to her knees. When the man lifted the whip she froze, holding her breath as she waited for the blow to fall. But to everyone's surprise he did not strike her. Instead he stepped forward and touched her thighs with the whip handle. It was smooth black leather, and the end flared out into a shiny ebony ball about an inch-and-a-half in diameter. He stroked the fevered skin with the side of the handle, then used the polished end on her labia, lightly dancing over the shaved lips and along the center of her slit.