DEEP WATERS NOW AVAILABLE

 

In 2014, Amazon refused to publish Michael Alexander's "Deep Waters" due to its sexually explicit and controversial content. In all honesty, it's a dark novel. Charlotte Waters has always wanted excitement in her life. Now, sailing across the sea with her mother and their maid, to visit her father, seems like a good start. At least until sails are spotted behind them and the flag of the Jolly Roger snaps in the breeze. A fervent battle between the ship's crew and the pirates ends when Charlotte, her mother, and their maid are taken captive by the villainous Captain Blackheart. His desires, and abuses, are dark and deviant and Charlotte finds herself caught in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations as he ravishes her body and mind.

Enjoy the sample chapter below, and if you're ready to find out what happens to young Charlotte next, visit Smashwords and get your copy today!

Chapter One

Charlotte Elizabeth Waters stood at the prow of the ship, near the bowsprit, enthralled with the azure seascape before her.  The crystal blue expanse of the Caribbean turned to froth as the ship cut through the sapphire waves, the creaking timbers and taut rope that held the booming sails flashing whiteley behind her.  She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the salt breeze and she vibrated with the barely contained excitement of youth’s first step upon the path of adventure.

Behind her the crew of the HMS Integrity worked with military efficiency.  Shouted orders from the first mate to the boson ended with scrambling men climbing upward, furling and unfurling sails as deemed appropriate by the captain, a stalwart man of middle years whose experience on the sea could barely be matched.  For Charlotte, the expedition had been nothing but amazing, viewed through the eyes of an exuberant woman-child who was only now getting to see something of the world.

“My lady?” a soft and quite timid voice came from behind Charlotte, interrupting the young woman’s wide eyed rapture and bright eyes.  

“Isn’t it gorgeous, Mary?” asked Charlotte, not even bothering to glance behind her.  The nervous maid stood a few feet back, clutching tightly to the wooden rail, glancing fearfully down to the dark blue waves twenty feet below.  Mary Shelling served Charlotte’s mother, and was not enjoying her first trip at sea.  Her first two days had kept her abed, sea sick and only the insistence of Charlotte’s mother that the girl rise and get to work had forced Mary from the pile of blankets that served as her bedding.

“If you say so my lady.”  The maid swallowed and tried very hard to set aside her fears, not to mention her continuing illness.  “Your mother asks that you return to the cabin.”

Charlotte glanced back at her mother’s maid, her face betraying her frustration.  “Oh bother the cabin!  Why on earth would I want to spend time in that stuffy cage?  It’s not like I can embroider anything with the ship rocking back and forth!”  She held up her hand, presenting her fingers.  “I’d pierce myself through!” she declared.

Mary nodded in submissive agreement. “Of course my lady.  But still, she insists that you join her.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and sighed. “Very well.  But I promise you that I shall be cross.”  Charlotte stepped away from the prow and worked her way back down across the deck.  The various men that she passed gazed at her longingly but she was oblivious to their stares.  At eighteen years of age, she was aware of her budding beauty, the swell of her breast and roundness of hip, but these men were nothing but coarse peasants, smelling of salt and bilge water.  Now perhaps if one of the officers…

She locked that thought away.  It was hardly acceptable that the daughter of the lieutenant governor have such naughty thoughts about the men transporting her and her mother.  Her father had been away for over eighteen months and finally sent for them.  Charlotte could hardly contain her excitement at the idea of living abroad, the scent of the sea, the lush tropical world at her fingertips.  There were so many stories!  Lush jungle, delicious things to eat, and even hushed whispers of strong bodied native men, with rippling muscles.  She hurried along, gathering her skirts together and made her way to the cabin.

It was gloomy inside, despite the large windows that spanned the rear of the room.  Smaller than even the maid’s room back at their residence in England, the cabin sported a single bed which Charlotte and her mother shared.  Mary’s pallet was in the corner, a rough mound of blankets formed into a nest.  A table and several chairs stood at the other end of the cabin and it was here that Charlotte found her mother seated, patiently working a needle through the bodice of a gown.  Charlotte couldn’t help smirking as she noticed several small pieces of white bandage judiciously wrapped around two of her mother’s fingers.  Needlework indeed.

“You asked to see me, mother?” Charlotte sighed audibly, trying to make it very clear she did not appreciate being drawn back into the dimly lit cave of the cabin.

“It is unseemly for the lieutenant governor’s daughter to be milling about on the deck with the common rabble,” her mother declared.  Mary Shelling winced as she prepared Charlotte a cup of tea.  The china rattled in the poor girl’s hands.

Charlotte let out a scathing laugh. “Rabble?  This is her Majesties’ Navy, mother!  I hardly think they qualify as a rabble.  Especially the officers.”  The tone of Charlotte’s voice made Amanda Waters look up at her daughter, a dark look in her eye.  Clearly she didn’t appreciate her daughter’s attitude.

“Nevertheless, I think it would be more appropriate for you to remain here, with me.”

“I will not be cooped up in here, bleeding over thread and needle, mother!” Charlotte said forcefully.  “Look at your fingers!” Charlotte reached out and tried to take her mother’s hand, earning a sharp glare as the older woman pulled her hand away.   

“It’s not safe for you to be topside, young lady.  You are my daughter and you will do as I say!” Amanda Waters said to her daughter.

Charlotte’s face screwed up into a very childlike expression.  With a daring grunt, Charlotte stood and stalked over to the bed and threw herself down upon it, arms crossed. When nothing more was said, she rolled over and looked out the window.  It wasn’t the same view, but the wake of the ship boiled and bubbled prettily and it distracted her from the seething resentment she was feeling.  Several minutes had passed when something caught her eye.

“What’s that?” she asked aloud, moving to her knees and pressing her nose to the glass.  The pane wasn’t high quality and the black speck that bobbed along behind them, far off in the distance, wasn’t terribly clear.  She squinted and tried to make out the shape.

“Mary, come here.  Your eyes are better than mine,” Charlotte ordered.  Obediently, Mary Shelling moved up onto the bed and knelt next to Charlotte, the simple folds of her dress caught under her knees.  The girls were approximately the same age, though of different coloring.  Charlotte’s curly brown locks cascaded darkly down to her shoulders, while Mary’s blond tresses were held in place with a tightly knotted bun.  Both girls were finely featured, with Charlotte’s baby face bordering on adorable while Mary had a more chiseled beauty.

“I think it’s a ship, my lady,” Mary said after peering through the glass. “It’s very far away though.”

“A ship?” asked Amanda Waters, standing up and walking toward the back of the cabin.  “Can you see what flag she flies, Mary?” 

“No my lady.”

“Mother, who do you think it is?  Do you think it might be the Spanish?” Charlotte asked, a touch of worry in her voice.  The Spanish were known to attack and sink British ships, a whole fleet of privateers wreaking havoc in the seas of the Caribbean. 

Her mother shook her head.  “I doubt it.  In all likelihood it is another British ship.  Pay it no mind.”  Amanda returned to her chair, smoothing the light yellow material of her skirts around her.

But Charlotte couldn’t ignore the ship.  As the minutes passed she could see it getting closer and closer.  Around her she could hear the creak of the main masts and feel the speed of the ship increase.  She knew that the captain had crowded the sail, trying to get every last knot out of the prevailing wind. As the dark ship drew nearer a tiny knot of fear appeared in Charlotte’s breast.  Finally she could bear it no longer.  She leapt up from the bed and stormed across the cabin. 

“Charlotte!  Come back here!” her mother called as the young girl barged out of the cabin and back out onto the open deck.  Immediately Charlotte could sense the heightened tension and the anxiety in her heart almost choked her.  She turned and quickly climbed up to the stern, where the captain stood at the rail, an eyeglass in his hand.

“What flag does she bear, Captain?” Charlotte inquired politely.  Captain Grassley was a gentleman after all.  

“Ms. Waters, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me at the moment.  I have much to do,” the captain replied warily.

“I understand that, but my mother was curious,” Charlotte lied.  “We can easily see the ship from our cabin and we were notably concerned, especially since you’ve crowded sail on, attempting to outrun whoever is behind us.”  It was a guess, but Charlotte had been on board long enough to know some of the workings of the ship.

Captain Grassley turned and stared at the girl.  “It is nothing to worry either you or your mother, Ms. Waters,” the captain replied. “And I would kindly ask that you return to your cabin.”  His voice was gruff but Charlotte could detect the unease in his tone.

“It’s the Spanish, isn’t it?” she declared, once more moving to the stern railing.  She peered out across the darkening waters.  The sun would set in another hour or two and already it was getting difficult to see details.

The captain stepped up next to her.  “Fortunately, no.”  He held out the spyglass and Charlotte’s eyes widened in surprise.  Her mouth curled upward in a smile and she took the eyepiece from the captain and held it up.  She had never looked through one before and it took a moment for her to figure out how to sharpen the image.  But when she did, a cold wave of fear rippled through her.

The ship in the distance was sleek and dark and flew no flag.  Instantly she knew what they were facing and her heart thudded painfully in her chest.  The ship behind them was built for speed.  It rode high in the water and its massive sails stretched out far to the sides.  For a moment, she wondered why it wasn’t bearing the skull and crossbones flag she expected but then realized that such an announcement would be silly.

“Pirates,” she breathed.

“Aye, my lady,” the captain breathed.  “But such filth and villainy will not stand up to a ship filled with British troops.  We can handle them, but again, I ask that you and your mother, as well as your maid, remain in your cabin, safe from harm.”

Charlotte nodded, fear adding the needed impetus to obey.  “I shall do as you ask, Captain.”  She handed back the eyeglass and hurried back to the cabin.  Her mother glared at her as she entered but Charlotte ignored it and sat down at the table, lost in thought.

“My lady?  Did you find out who was behind us?” Mary asked softly, pushing the cup of cold tea toward Charlotte.  The fear in her eyes was palpable.

Charlotte looked up.  “It’s pirates, Mary.  We’re being chased by pirates.”

Amanda Waters looked up from her embroidery.  “Nonsense.  Don’t be filling the child’s head with tales, Charlotte.  What would pirates want with us?” Charlotte’s mother declared.

Charlotte scowled at her mother.  “It IS pirates, mother.  I saw them with the captain’s own spyglass!” Mary blanched at Charlotte’s words and Amanda Waters leaned forward, her embroidery spilling off her lap.

“Now that’s enough of that, young lady!  I will not have you scaring the maid to tears!” Amanda hissed.  She grabbed Charlotte’s petite wrist, only to have the young woman yank free.

Charlotte moved away from the table and made straight for the back window.  Sure enough, the ship following had grown even larger, enough for her to make out the prow figure, a poorly carved, but half naked woman.  The figure’s breasts were marred and it looked as if someone had shoved a piece of metal through the tip of one breast.  Worse, at the faux woman’s exposed crotch, there was a deep hole, clearly meant to be the figure’s vagina.  Charlotte grimaced in disgust. The painted wood was pitted and rough and then suddenly there was a flash of light and a cloud of smoke.  

The rumble of the cannon came a moment later and Samantha found herself flinching as a geyser of water exploded in the wake of their ship.  A wash of spray blocked her view and she scrambled backward off the bed.  Mary was already hiding in the far corner of the cabin, trembling while Amanda Waters stood, quietly placing her embroidery on the table.  Charlotte watched in surprise as her mother strode purposefully to the door and left them.

“Where is she going?” cried Mary, tears already cascading down her cheeks. 

Charlotte took pity on the maid and went to her, wrapping her arms around the poor girl.  “Hush now, Mary.  Mother is going up to talk to the Captain.”

Another roll of cannon thunder washed across them and the ship shook.  She heard men yelling outside the cabin. A few moments later her mother returned to the cabin holding a brace of pistols.  Amanda handed one to Charlotte.

“Captain Grassley says they intend to board us,” Amanda said quietly.  “He recommended…” she paused, as if frightened to say the words.  “He said that should the cabin door be breached, we should use the pistols.”

Charlotte looked down at the gun, dismay written across her face.  “A single pistol against a horde of pirates?  Is he mad?  What are we to do when the third ruffian comes through that door? We need a sword!  Or better yet, one of the officers to guard us!” She demanded, tossing the pistol onto the table in rejection.

Amanda’s eyes filled with tears, but her voice was pure steel.  “The pistols are not for the pirates, Charlotte.  If they make it as far as the cabin, it will mean that the captain and his crew are dead.”

It took the girl only moments to understand and she shook her head.  “No.  No, he can’t be serious!  He wouldn’t dare!  My father would have his head!”

Charlotte’s mother reached out and took the young girl’s shoulders, wrapping her arms around Charlotte.  “Charlotte.  I have every confidence in Grassley, but there are realities we must face.  You don’t understand what men like that would do to a woman.  There are worse things than death,” Amanda said sternly.

“No!  No! I will NOT kill myself!” Charlotte declared angrily.  She reached out and shoved the pistol off the table and watched as it clattered to the floor.  Mary suddenly cried out as she realized what was being suggested.

“Where is my gun?” Mary cried out, moving out of the corner and scrambling for the fallen pistol.   Another cannon boomed, this one much closer and the entire ship shuddered.  Charlotte glanced out the back window and saw that the other ship, the pirate ship, had almost overtaken them.

“No!  Give it back, Mary!” Amanda chided as Mary grabbed the pistol and held it up.  Gun shots rang out up on deck and then there was the solid clash of metal as sword and cutlass met in battle.  The women heard yelling, then screams of agony and pain.  Mary held up the gun and pointed it at her temple but Amanda lurched forward and swatted it out of her hand before the girl had a chance to pull the trigger.  Amanda snatched the weapon up and pointed it at Charlotte.

“Mother! No!” Charlotte whispered.

“I can not let those murdering animals have you.” Amanda said harshly, the terrible duty before her almost forcing her to her knees.  “I wish there were another way.”  Another cannon roared and the entire ship shuddered beneath them.  The smell of gun smoke and the cries of men dying filtered through the cabin door.

Mary sobbed at their feet and Charlotte looked down.  “What about Mary, mother?”  

Amanda shook her head.  “We only have two shots.  One for each of us.  We can only hope that Mary’s end comes swiftly.”

Charlotte glanced down at the maid, a look of sorrow in her eyes.  Finally she bit her lip, nodding.  “Then let me do it, mother.  I will pull my own trigger.” She held out her hand toward her mother.

For a moment Amanda hesitated, but then she handed the weapon over to her daughter.  “All right.  But only when I say.  It may be that Captain Grassley will prevail.”

Charlotte nodded.  The fighting on the deck continued and they could hear the shouts and cries of the wounded and dying.  An occasional gun shot rang out until finally only shouted orders were heard.  There came a pounding on the door and then it burst open.

A half dressed man, wearing a red bandana over his head, with a thick walrus mustache and a hooked knife burst into the cabin with a snarl.  Charlotte shrieked and with an instinct born of desperation turned the barrel of the pistol toward the man and pulled the trigger.  A cloud of smoke filled the room and her ears rang as the pirate fell, blood spurting from a ragged hole in his chest.  She gasped in shock, the reality of her actions understood in a moment of clarity.  Amanda cried out and glared at her daughter.

“You little fool!  Do you not know what they will do to you?”

Charlotte stepped forward and picked up the fallen knife.  She turned back to her mother with a hot glare.  “We fight for our lives, mother!  I will NOT just give up and die!”

Suddenly another man lunged through the open doorway.  He snarled as he grabbed hold of Charlotte with one arm around her throat.  Charlotte gasped as the rank man lifted her off her feet.  Amanda extended her pistol, the barrel shaking.  Charlotte flung her hand downward, driving the hooked knife deep into the man’s leg.  He let out a bellow and flung her away.  As Charlotte fell, Amanda aimed the weapon at her daughter.  

The pirate lurched forward, his arm coming up as the hammer fell and Charlotte gasped as the bullet smashed into the deck only inches from her ear.  She watched as the man knocked her mother to the ground.  She climbed to her feet, ears still ringing, and she held the bloody knife out at an angle.  Mary cried, once more huddled in the corner as the pirate grabbed hold of Amanda by the front of her dress and threw her back across the room, tearing the woman’s bodice and revealing bare and creamy flesh beneath.  He turned and looked at Charlotte, grinning with a bloodthirsty look.

“I’ll cut you,” Charlotte said, holding the knife in front of her.  He lunged quickly and she slashed at him, but didn’t connect.  They stared at each other as he circled around.  Charlotte ended up standing near the cabin door.  Then a hand reached in through the open doorway, clasping her wrist tightly.

“I think that will be enough,” the man holding her said.  He twisted her wrist and a sharp tingle went from fingertip to elbow.  The knife dropped, the tip embedded in the wood planks beneath them, quivering.

***

Rarely had Charlotte been as frightened.  The deck was strewn with dead and dying men, most of whom wore the uniform of the Royal Navy.  Over thirty pirates still stood, crowding around the entrance to the cabin, each wanting to get an eyeful of the three women who had been brought out.  Charlotte had cringed as rough hands had taken her arms and propelled her out of the cabin and into the open air.  Her mother was treated just as roughly and poor Mary had merely been dragged out by one heel, her black and white dress tugged upward to show an unseemly amount of leg and the white bloomers she wore beneath.  The crowd of pirates snickered and cat called, their hungry eyes burning.  

“How dare you attack a ship of the Royal Navy!” Charlotte’s mother said viciously.  She stood between two men, one arm clasped across the front of her dress where it had been ripped during the scuffle.  The bodice had torn and only the pressure of Amanda’s arm kept her ample and well-rounded bosom covered. Amanda Waters glared at the man who had disarmed Charlotte, a man who by his coat and sword clearly held the title “captain.”

He looked over at Amanda and smiled, a crooked yet somewhat swarthy grin that would have made him roguishly charming to Charlotte had he not just boarded her ship and killed Grassley and the other sailors.  Charlotte couldn’t help but to wonder what her mother would do.  Tight fingers clung to Charlotte’s upper arms and her options were highly limited.

“How dare I?” the pirate captain asked with an open hand.  His words held the eloquence of aristocracy and Charlotte looked at him in bewilderment.  Where had such a villain learned civilized speech?

“I dare easily, Madam Waters,” he said, addressing Amanda by name.  He looked at her and then at Charlotte, finally glancing down at the sobbing maid, Mary.  “I knew that you, and your daughter, and your maid were en route from London to Port Harken and that it would be easy for me to intercept you.”

Amanda Waters glared at the man.  “How dare you presumptuously accost us?  I demand that my husband, the lieutenant governor of Port Harken, be notified of our capture so that appropriate ransom can be raised.”

As she spoke three more men appeared carrying a heavy chest.  They pushed their way through the crowd and dropped it in front of the pirate captain.  He nodded and then drew his pistol.  With a single shot that made Charlotte flinch, he destroyed the padlock.  Two of the nearest men opened the chest and the captain stepped close.  Inside was a bundle of papers, clearly letters and other important information, laying atop a bounty of gold coins.

“Oh look.  Your ransoms have already been paid!” He said cheerfully.  The crew let out an evil laugh that made Charlotte’s stomach tighten.  The captain scooped up the paperwork and then ordered the chest taken and the money counted for later dispersal.  The shout that went up was deafening and Charlotte tried to move closer to her mother.  The two men holding her by the arms kept her in place.

“But where are my manners?” the captain said a moment later after tucking the bundle of documents into his jacket.  “My name is Rutherford, though for the purposes of piracy I’m known by the more dreaded moniker of Captain Blackheart.”

Charlotte felt her throat tighten and she swallowed a lump of fear.  She had heard of the dread Captain Blackheart, a villain who was said to drink the blood of his captives each night and who butchered children and fed their mutilated corpses to the school of sharks that supposedly followed his ship.  The littered bodies around her spoke volumes for his cruelty and evil intent.  His reputation was no doubt well deserved.

Captain Blackheart turned toward his first mate, a dark skinned man with a massive gold ring in his ear.  “Riley, toss the dead overboard.”

“Aye, Captain.  What should we do with the wounded?”

Blackheart looked around.  “If any of the British survived, wait ten minutes, then dump them in the water too.”

“You callous monster!” Charlotte declared viciously.  “They’ll be eaten by the sharks!”

Blackheart grinned.  “Or they’ll drown.  Either way it will be a fast death.”  He put his fists on his hips and looked at the three captive women.  “And what shall we do with you?”

Amanda Waters glared at Blackheart again.  “You will send word to my husband for parley and collect your ransom.”

Blackheart looked thoughtful.  “Indeed, that would normally be the way we’d handle this.  But unfortunately, we sacked Port Harken two weeks ago, and your husband is in no position to arrange a ransom.  In fact, I’m positive that his ability to do so is currently in question, considering I left him skewered in a burning building.”

Charlotte gasped. Her father…dead?  She felt herself grow faint even as the color drained from her mother’s face.  

Blackheart suddenly looked pleased.  “I know,” he suddenly declared.  “You shall join my crew!”

The color drained from Amanda’s face, but the very thought filled Charlotte with anger.  She took half a step toward the man, drawing his attention. “Join you?  And become a pirate?  Never!” she declared.

Blackheart laughed as did all of the men around the women.  

“Join my crew?  As a pirate?” Blackheart chortled.  His chuckles turned to guffaws.  The crew roared with laughter.   Then he stopped, his eyes cold and lifeless.  “Oh no.  The position I had in mind for you was more along the lines of entertainment and crew motivation.”  His mouth turned cruel and his eyes focused on Charlotte.  She stared at his mouth, the light grin he gave her, a shiver of fear slipping down her spine.

“Strip them,” Blackheart ordered.

Charlotte screamed as the hands tore at her clothing.  She fought with all her strength but a single blow across the face stunned her and in moments her cotton petticoats were being pulled from her body.  Her corset, the bodice, and then the skirts were tossed away and then hard fingers began tearing the full bodied underclothes away.  Her bare skin flashed in the lantern light and last remnants of sunset.  Then she was thrown to the deck, stark naked, curled up around herself, sobbing.

“Get them on their feet,” ordered Blackheart.  Charlotte was grabbed by the arms again and pulled upward.  Her hair hung down in front of her face, but she could see the naked body of her mother next to her, as well as her maid’s sobbing and nude form on the other side.

“How dare you!” shouted Charlotte’s mother.  She was being held by both wrists, practically dangling from one man’s grasp.  Her full breasts swayed as she kicked.  Charlotte was surprised to see that her mother’s pubic hair had been trimmed, almost shaven down to a readily visible pink slit.

“My my my!  You are a woman of the world, aren’t you!” declared Blackheart.  “Hold her legs open.  I’d like to see this!” he ordered.  Two more men moved toward Amanda Waters and grabbed her kicking ankles.  In seconds she was splayed and presented for the captain’s pleasure.

“Quite an interesting trim, my lady Waters.  Tell me, is this style preferred by the gentry of England these days?”

Charlotte’s mother was blushing furiously, tears streaming down her eyes.  “My… my husband prefers me this way.”

There was a round of laughter and the Captain joined in.  He was still chuckling when he spoke.  “Are you aware that this ‘style’ as you would have it, is favored by the whores of Havana?  It keeps the incidents of lice and crabs down to a minimum and makes it easier for the prostitutes to keep clean.”  He reached out and ran his fingers over Amanda’s exposed sex.  She gasped and flinched, but the hands holding her kept her open and secure.  The captain grabbed hold of one of Amanda’s petals and tugged, eliciting a ragged gasp from the woman.  

“Clearly we know where your husband went for his succor while away if this kind of trim is what he prefers.”  He turned back, motioning the men to drop Amanda Waters’ legs.  When the men did, she recovered her balance and then broke loose from the other men holding her.  She lunged at Blackheart, her hand landing on his face with a vicious blow.

Captain Blackheart reeled but even as he turned his pistol came out and he pointed it at Charlotte’s mother.  The crowd of pirates roared their anger and the two men responsible for holding the older woman grabbed her again, yanking her back and upright, holding her arms spread.  There would be no further opportunity for her to assault the captain.

Blackheart was clearly uninjured, despite the red mark on his cheek.  “I see.  For that you have earned the lash.  I think thirty strokes will do nicely.  Ten each for your ass, your tits, and your cunt.”

Charlotte almost fainted at the idea.  Her mother glared defiantly at the captain.  

“But obviously that is insufficient for punishment.  So in addition to receiving thirty strokes, your daughter and maid will receive the same.  Hopefully this will be a lesson to you.  Any disobedience on the part of you, your daughter, or your maid will reap the same reward.”

Amanda Waters’ eyes widened in sudden fear. “Please! No!  Not Charlotte!  I’ll take the punishment!  All sixty strokes!” Amanda begged, her eyes going to her daughter who starred in horror.  

Blackheart shook his head.  “Sixty strokes!  No woman could withstand that!”  He paused.  “But I’ll allow you and the maid to take forty five each, so that your daughter may be spared this agony.  Mr. Riley, get the whip.”

Charlotte’s mouth opened wide and she glanced at Mary who hung limply, crying pitifully in the arms of the pirate behind her.  The poor girl wasn’t even aware of what was going on, much less the offer made by the captain.  Mary wouldn’t stand thirty, much less an additional fifteen strokes.  Charlotte shook her head.

“I do NOT accept!  You will not hurt Mary!” Charlotte demanded, pushing herself forward.  She didn’t get far thanks to the men that still held her wrists.  The tips of her young breasts hardened.

Blackheart ignored her, his eyes locked on Amanda Waters.  “Well?”

Amanda’s lips trembled, but she nodded.  “Whip the maid and me instead,” Charlotte’s mother said softly.  

“No! Mother! I forbid this!” Charlotte cried, but she was yanked harshly to the side.  Men swarmed around her mother and Mary and in seconds their hands were bound together.  Rope was hurled upward, secured somewhere in the rigging.  When the men moved out of the way both Charlotte’s mother and the maid were dangling ten feet apart, on tiptoe, stretched taut.  A young boy, who couldn’t have been more than twelve hurried up, bringing a leather whip to the first mate, Mr. Riley.  Riley stepped forward, aiming at Amanda Waters’ rump.

The lash was thin but supple leather and it bit into the delicate derrière of Amanda Waters’ ass like teeth in an apple.  A bright red welt appeared immediately, crossing both globes and Amanda let out a sharp hiss through clenched teeth.  Riley turned and swung at Mary.  The maid screamed, her body thrashing wildly as the pain bit her across the bottom just as it did Charlotte’s mother.

Stroke after stroke landed, alternating between the mother and the maid.  Red welts appeared on both bottoms and when the final fifteenth stroke had been laid, the women were turned around to face Mr. Riley and Charlotte.  Mary wasn’t even supporting her own weight and was held aloft only by the rope at her wrists.  Amanda was still upright of her own accord, but her head had fallen forward and tears of agony dripped from her cheeks.  Charlotte wished her own hands were free to wipe away tears of sympathy.  

Mr. Riley seemed to be an expert with the lash and snaked the leather across Amanda Waters’ front with ease.  The older woman screamed, shaking like mad as another line of fire marked her breasts, one end crossing directly over both nipples.  Mary joined her mistress a moment later, squealing as the welt burned across her bosom.  Riley struck Amanda again, crisscrossing her breasts with skill.  Charlotte closed her eyes, not wanting to witness the abuse.  It was bad enough to hear the cries of agony from Mary and her mother, and listen to Mary’s begging pleas to let her die, but to see it too was beyond terrible.  When the fifteen strokes to each woman’s bosom was complete, Charlotte dared to look again. Crimson lines marred both her mother’s and maid’s chests and Amanda’s breasts were especially brutalized, sporting tiny cuts from top to bottom.  A few of the welts were even bleeding.  Charlotte couldn’t even imagine how much pain her mother and maid were in.

“Get their legs open!” Riley called to the men near both bound women.  Charlotte watched as her mother was once again forced open, her trimmed pubic hair and shaved slit made public.  Riley raised the whip, but Blackheart held up a hand.  

“Lighter on the cunt, Mr. Riley.  We want them to be able to entertain the crew when they’re finished.”  He let out a nasty laugh.  “Think of it as foreplay.”

The first mate nodded and then swung.  The lash impacted directly on Amanda’s clit, smashing downward and biting into the thick labia of Amanda Waters’ labia.  The woman bucked, screaming now, and it became more difficult for the two men holding her legs apart.  Mr. Riley moved to the side and sent his whistling whip between Mary’s legs.  She too cried out, her body twisting, making the men holding her wrestle to keep the young maid under control.  Back and forth the leather lash fell, turning the pink and delicate petals of both women scarlet.  But at least there was no blood.

Finally the bitter punishment ended and the pirates released Amanda and Mary, letting their scored and beaten bodies hang from the ropes like sides of beef.  For Charlotte it was almost too much.  Fury seethed through her and the two men holding Charlotte kept tight hold, feeling the tension running through the seventeen year old girl.  She glanced over at Blackheart.  He was reading some of the paperwork intended for Charlotte’s father by lamp light.  A few quick words with Mr. Riley came next and then he tucked the papers in his tunic.  

“Hopefully, you’ve learned a valuable lesson, Madam Waters.  Should you, your daughter, or your maid act discourteously again, your companions will share your punishment.  I will also not allow you to purchase your daughter’s share again either,” the captain said softly, glancing at the maid.  Mary hung limply, no longer even crying.  Blackheart turned toward Riley. “Cut their hands loose.”

As the pirates freed Amanda and Mary’s hands, Charlotte saw that her mother’s hair had come loose and dangled now in front of her eyes.  The cuts of the whip had started to swell and Amanda’s breasts hung hot and heavy.  The maid was in no better shape and only whimpered as her wrists were freed of the rope.  Mary seemed to lack any strength and she started to collapse to the deck.  The blond girl’s legs wobbled and the man behind her wrapped his arms around her body, one hand grasping her between the legs.  Charlotte snarled something as she saw the pirate’s fingers penetrate into Mary’s sex, but a sharp squeeze on her arm quieted her.  Mary whimpered, her hips moving forward and back as the pirate literally fingered the poor maid’s slit.

Blackheart stopped in front of Charlotte.  Her arms were still held by the two men flanking her, so she was unable to cover her breasts.  The evil captain approached and ran a single finger down the slope of her bosom, ending at the nipple.  Charlotte gasped, turning away, flushing with anger and humiliation.  The captain circled the tiny point with his fingertip and after a moment it rose, hard and wanton.  Worse, she felt a sudden surge of desire between her legs as her body betrayed her.  But then Blackheart moved on.  Mary’s chest heaved, but she didn’t look at the captain, even when he grabbed one of Mary’s nipples, pinching it hard and twisting it, rousing her back into shuddering sobs.  Then it was Charlotte’s mother’s turn and Amanda whimpered as Blackheart pinched and squeezed, eliciting a sharp gasp from the woman. Finally he turned and addressed the crew.

“This night’s work has cost much, but it has returned to us ten fold.  Each man will get an equal share of the gold.  In addition, two of the wenches will be bound open for use.  Mr. Riley, please see that each man gets a turn,” he paused as the cheers echoed over the deck.  “With BOTH women!” he cried.  Charlotte’s tears came quicker as she contemplated her upcoming rape.  

The two vessels had been lashed together and Charlotte, Amanda, and Mary were quickly moved from the British ship to the pirate vessel.  The water frothed with blood and foam, the sleek fins of sharks already trolling the waters for the dead and dying. Charlotte could see a few bloodied bits of British uniform floating in the water.  Amanda fought her captors as she was dragged forward onto the pirate deck and lashed spread-eagled and face up near the port side railing.  Mary was practically catatonic and was draped over a wooden barrel.  Her ankles and wrists were bound, stretching the dazed blond taut.  Charlotte felt the oncoming tears and shook her head, looking away as the first of the pirates chosen by Mr. Riley formed a line.  To Charlotte’s horror, she could see the first, swollen cock.

She was pushed away, toward the captain’s cabin as the first screams of her mother and maid filled the air.  She caught sight of a fire spreading on the British ship and then the door in front of her opened and she was shoved inside.  It slammed shut behind her and Charlotte whirled, slamming her fists against the wood.  She was tempted to open it, but then realized that charging back out onto deck, naked and unarmed, was stupid.

The cabin was dark as pitch and she put out her hands, struggling to make sense of its layout.  She discovered the table first, mostly by running into it, her soft thighs finding the edge.  She grunted and put her hands down, feeling for something that resembled a weapon.  All she found was a heavy metal goblet and for lack of anything better, she picked it up and hefted it with one hand.  Feeling a bit more secure, she continued moving around the room.

As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, she began to see a glimmer of her surroundings.  A bed, barely big enough for two, stood against the far wall and a heavy footlocker was mounted to the floor at the end.  She couldn’t fail to notice the leather straps tied to the corners of the bed.  Several bookcases lined the far wall, each shelf sporting ropes tightly bound across it to prevent the contents from falling.  To her surprise, Charlotte saw plenty of books, some of which she herself had perused once in her father’s own library.  Evidently Captain Blackheart was well read. 

She went to the locker and opened it.  Folded clothing was inside and she quickly yanked out a cotton shirt and pulled it on over herself.   As she pawed through the captain’s belongings, she felt something hard and narrow, and with a cry of delight, tugged free a long dagger from the bottom of the locker.  

She pulled the steel free of the scabbard and considered her options.  She could hardly burst out on deck thus armed.  She’d be swarmed by the pirates who wouldn’t hesitate to endure the possibility of death in order to stop her.  In all likelihood, she’d merely give a few cuts and then end up like her mother and maid, bound open and raped on the deck.

She also contemplated killing the captain the moment he walked through the door.  It would be nothing to stand against the front wall, waiting for the door to open and the man to step into the room, only to be greeted by a plunging dagger.  For a moment, Charlotte reveled in that fantasy, watching in her mind’s eye the captain’s groan of disbelief and the dripping blood pouring from his chest.  But then she realized that one of the other pirates would merely declare himself captain and the end result would again be her bondage and rape.

No, she had to hold Blackheart captive, his own knife held to throat.  There was nothing that she could immediately do to help her mother and Mary, but by God she would see them saved!

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