Morgan's Gold
by Ann Douglas
Written for the Summer 2003 Pirate Challenge
Constance Norwood looked over the worn wooden railing and out onto the calm empty sea. Watching the myriad stars reflected on it, she wondered if she would ever again see the shores of home, or for that matter, even the next dawn.
Had it only been four days since her nightmare had begun? No, she answered herself as she drank deeply of the night air; her ordeal had begun two months before. Her current set of circumstances, horrendous as they seemed, were but the latest tragedy to take hold of her young life.
Seven weeks ago, only days before her seventeenth birthday, a messenger had appeared at the Constance to which she had been sent when she was ten. In his pouch he carried written instructions to the Nuns into whose care she had been placed upon her entry into young womanhood. Instructions that forever shattered the peaceful, if mundane, existence Constance had been living.
The seventh and youngest daughter of Edmund Norwood, a prominent British merchant, Constance had learned that day that she had been promised in marriage to Rowland Torrungton, a business associate of her father's. That this day would someday come was hardly a surprise to the young woman. After all, it was no secret that her father had little use for the daughters that three wives had bestowed upon him. It had been cruel fate that had let his only son die hours after his birth, despite his mother haven given her life for his.
What had shocked Constance was that she had been betrothed to a man her father had never even met face to face, as well as nearly two score older than she was. Rowland Torrungton lived in far off Jamaica, His Majesty's colony in the Caribbean, some three thousand miles distant. A decades-long trading partner, the older man had mentioned in one of his correspondences to her father of his desire to take a bride in order to produce an heir to his fortunes. Quite sympathetic to his desire, Edmund had wasted no time in offering him the youngest of his offspring. An offer that Rowland accepted just as quickly as he knew that despite his wealth, few women that young would ever be interested in sharing his bed.
Edmund's reasons for the match were twofold. It would make their profitable business relationship one of blood, and ever more secure. Also, if he couldn't have a son, perhaps he could have a grandson that could inherit both mercantile empires. It was a thought to warm an old man's bones. That Constance hadn't been informed of the negotiations until long after they had been finalized bothered neither man. After all, even in the year of our Lord, 1724, what were women but just another commodity to be used to serve the interests of men.
So without much fanfare, Constance had been bundled off on the transport, Esmerelda, just one more piece of cargo on its way to the colony. She hadn't even been granted the luxury of a companion, as neither her father nor her betrothed saw the need to waste the cost of another passage.
Instead, the young woman had been entrusted to the care of the ship's doctor, a disreputable looking man who Constantly entered her cabin unannounced to, as he always said, check on her welfare. When Constance had pointed out to him that a gentleman would give a lady time to make sure she was presentable, the doctor, and that was a title she soon grew suspicious of the validity of, would insist that as a man of medicine, he was hardly a stranger to women in a state of undress. The result of his unwanted visits was that Constance soon learned to make sure her door was locked at all times.
In was behind that lock that, four nights before, Constance had awakened in the early hours to the sounds of screams and gunshots. Fearing the worse, but afraid more of not knowing, she opened her door just in time to see the blood covered body of the doctor tumble down the stairs that led to the upper deck. Her hand had covered her mouth in horror as she looked away from the body and up the stairwell, only to see a half naked man carrying a pistol and cutlass appear on it. One word screamed in her mind before she mercifully blacked out - Pirates!
Much to her astonishment, Constance awoke the next day, alive and unmolested. Two Contradictions the stories she had heard of pirates seem to Contradict. Especially after she had pieced together what had happened to the Esmerelda after she had lost Consciousness. Aside from her, there had been no survivors. Quarter had been offered and accepted, she had been told, only to have the truce broken by men who foolishly valued their cargo more than their lives. The ship itself had been set afire, after being stripped of valuables.
She was no longer bound for Jamaica of course, but for some island she had never heard of, San Cristobal. Despite the opinion of her father, Constance was a highly intelligent woman and had been well educated by the Nuns. She had even read books that dealt with many non-religious matters, giving her a vast knowledge of the world beyond the Convent walls.
It was soon apparent to her that she was being held for ransom, as the papers in her cabin readily identified her as the fiancee of a rich and powerful man. One that might pay a handsome sum for the return of his bride in one piece. Aside from leaving her in peace as well, they had given her a cabin of her own, one that had belonged to the second mate. In size and comfort, it surpassed the one she'd had on the cargo ship. If they expected to make a profit on the merchandise, it stood to reason that they make sure it stayed healthy.
That sounded logical to the young woman, but she well knew that life was seldom logical. It was true that she had never met her future husband, yet just the same she had little reason to think that his reaction would be any different than her fathers. Mainly that Edmund Norwood had six other daughters, four of which were still looking for husbands. No, she told herself honestly, there was little chance that she might be ransomed.
As an additional, unexpected courtesy, the first mate of the Falcon's Claw had informed her that the Captain, whom she had not met, had granted her the privilege of the poopdeck during the night watch as to get some air. With most of the crew asleep, it would be the least disruptive time for her to be above decks. He warned her, however, not to venture out of the small area. On the last two nights that she had accepted the offer, she had been too nervous to move more than a few feet.
But tonight, with the certainty that there wouldn't be many more beautiful nights for her to enjoy, she didn't pay as careful attention to his words. Watching the moon drift in and out of the clouds, Constance strolled past the small passageway along the quarter-deck and onto the large expanse around the main masts. Scattered across the deck were the bodies of a number of crewmen, driven from their hammocks below deck by the early summer heat.
Paying little heed to the sleeping men, Constance's eyes wandered up to the mainmast where the ship's colors flew. There, in place of the black jolly roger she had read about in forbidden books, flew a blood red flag adorned with a bright blue falcon. It was the symbol of the infamous pirate, Morgan the Red, of whom it had been whispered that no man had ever seen the face of and lived. Not for the first time, the young woman wondered what kind of man could be to both the bearer of such brutality towards the crew of the Esmerelda and yet kindness towards her.
Intent on her thoughts, the long haired blonde didn't notice that her passage had awakened two of the crewmen she passed. Half naked men who silently rose from their makeshift bedding and followed her steps. They were upon her before she realized they were there, trapping her in a small dark alcove that was hidden from the eyes of the second mate who had the watch back on the quarter-deck.
One, a tall, skinny man wearing only a torn pair of trousers, grabbed her from behind, his hand over her mouth and a deadly edged cutlass resting against her neck. The other, clad in little more, moved in front of her. His hands were empty, but just his appearance was enough to fill her with dread. The stench of both men was overpowering.
"Cry out and it'll be the last sound yer pretty throat ever makes," the man behind her, whose name was Rourke, warned as he slowly removed his hand from her mouth, applying the slightest of pressure with his blade to reinforce his words.
He need not have bothered as the young woman was far too terrified to even gasp. Feeling no resistance on her part, Rourke brought his hand to her left breast and squeezed it roughly. The feel of her flesh, even beneath the layers of her dress, was enough to cause a stirring between his legs. He pressed up against her from behind, until she could feel his manliness hard against the cheeks of her ass. At the same time, he dropped his hand lower, until it rested between Constance's legs, groping her there as well. It was the first time any man had touched her, much less than in that manner.
"Don't hog it all to yeself, Rourke," the second man, Griff by name, insisted as he produced a dagger seemingly out of nowhere and moved closer to the two of them.
For a heartbeat, Constance thought he intended to kill her with the knife, then realized that he had a far worse fate in mind. Griff reached out with the tip of the dagger and quickly cut the laces that held the top of her dress together. Once gone, the material fell away quickly, exposing her ample breasts to the night air.
Rourke relaxed his hold on Constance, lowering his cutlass as to get a better look at her bounty. In the moonlight, both men could see the bright pink nipples that capped each breast. Each compared them in their minds to the mounds of the native women found on the surrounding islands and quickly decided that there was no comparison.
The lust in his eyes reached other parts of Griff's body and he responded by reaching down into his cut off pants and pulling out his erect cock. Looking at it only a foot or so away, Constance loudly gasped as it was the first time she had ever seen such a thing. It bore little resemblance to the crude drawings that some of the girls in school had secretly passed around. What he intended to do with the enlarged organ in his hand required little imagination.
"Griff, Rourke, have the two of ye been at the grog?" a third man, who had been awakened by the rising of the first two cried out in a low voice as he moved close to them. "Or have you simply gone mad? You know the Captain gave orders that no man was to come near this woman. Do you have a death wish?" he added.
"This is none of your Concern, Jeffers," the man who had exposed himself spit back in anger as he pushed his cock back inside his pants. "The Captain isn't here and no one is ever going to know if no one opens their mouth."
Jeffers shifted his gaze towards Constance, then back to Griff, asking the unspoken question what was to prevent the woman from saying what happened. His answer, also unspoken, was found in both of the other men's eyes. It would be too easy for the woman to have an accident after they were done. Many a land-lover had misjudged the sway of a ship like this and fallen overboard.
"We've plenty of time before they change the watch, Jeffers," Griff suggested, thinking to involve his shipmate in their planned rape, "more than enough time for all three of us to have a go."
As beautiful as Constance was, and as much as her exposed breasts had hardened his cock, Jeffers wanted no part of the offer. His fear of the Captain far outweighed his desire for a woman. Not saying another word, he began to back away from the two men and their prize.
As he took a few steps back toward where he had been sleeping, Griff turned away from Constance and Rourke for a moment and made a cutting motion with the knife in his hand. The meaning was crystal clear. If Jeffers so much as breathed a word to any of the officers, he might not wake up one morning. Even if something happened to Griff and Rourke, they had mates that would be happy to make Jeffers pay the price of betrayal
Jeffers had barely gone a dozen feet when the thunderclap of a gunshot broke the still of the night. The echoing boom instantly awoke the other half dozen or so crewman who had been sleeping, each of them reaching for weapons that were never far from their grasp.
Griff just had time to look down at the tattered remains of what once had been a fine shirt taken on a previous raid, and watch as an expanding red stain quickly spread across it. His eyes then rolled back in his head as his fingers lost their grip on his prized knife. It dropped to the hard deck, hitting it only a half second before his now lifeless body.
Ignoring his corpse and the still expanding pool of blood beneath it, all eyes turned to the quarter deck from where the shot had come from. The sight that greeted them was enough to make the strongest man's blood run cold.
Standing on the edge of the upper deck was the Captain, holding a still smoking flintlock. A few feet away stood the first and second mates, the former holding a pistol and the latter a blunderbuss in the direction of the now awakened crew. A stern warning in case anyone else cared to question the Captain's orders. It was quickly apparent that no one else did.
"Captain, I ..." Rourke stammered as he released what was left of his hold on Constance, realizing that there was nothing he could say that would save him from the Captain's wrath.
Images flooded his mind, graphic examples of the fate that now awaited him. A ruthless flogging and then keelhauling until he was a shattered husk was a particular example the first mate liked to set. Stepping away from Constance and moving closer to the railing, he made his choice in an instant.
Racing as fast as he could, Rourke tried to leap over the wooden barrier to the safety of the open sea. As unlikely as was the chance that he might make it to one of the nearby islands, it was still more of a prospect than he had if he remained.
It was a gamble that failed as, just before he made it over the side, his shaved head exploded in a bloody spray. Momentum carried his body forward and he dropped into the sea, food for the fishes.
Hudson, the first mate, who could put a pistol ball through the center of a doubloon, handed his just fired weapon to a bosun and ordered two of the men on deck to pick up what remained of Griff. With a powerful heave, they tossed his remains over the side as well.
The brutal example of pirate justice should've totally unnerved Constance, yet it left her almost totally unaffected. Perhaps later it would all hit her, but for the moment, she was too stunned by what she had seen up on the quarter-deck. Never, in all the hours she had Considered the matter over the last few days, had she ever imagined that Morgan the Red, one of the most feared marauders of the sea lanes, was a woman.
"If you men don't have a need for sleep," she called out as uncocked her own pistol and slipped it into her belt, "I'm sure Mr. Hudson can find something for you to do."
The price of disobeying her orders still staining the deck, the small group of men quickly dispersed and tried to make the most of the few hours of rest before they would be called to stations. Morgan the Red then turned her attention to Constance and said that she might want to cover herself up, unless she wanted to give any of the other men any ideas.
It was only then that Constance realized that her breasts were still hanging free and quickly pulled up her dress to cover them. It was doubtful that any man would care to repeat the actions of the late Griff and Rourke, but lust did strange things to a man. Or so the Nuns Constantly admonished her and the other students.
Constance heard the Captain give Mr. Hudson instructions to return her to her cabin, and to see that she stayed there until the ship reached San Cristobal two days hence. The privilege of the deck was no longer hers.
As the door to her cabin closed and was locked behind her, Constance knew she would have trouble getting to sleep. The excitement of the last hour still caused her heart to race. That two men were dead didn't seem to bother her, even though she knew that it should. They were already fading into memory, just as the crew of the ill fated Esmerelda had.
Laying awake on the wooden bed, Constance's thoughts instead dwelled on the image of Morgan the Red. The woman was unlike any she had ever seen in her life. As tall as any man, the Captain had fiery red hair tied back in a style more appropriate for a boy than a woman. The physique beneath the half open blouse and tight fitting britches she had worn on deck, however, certainly belonged to a woman. Even across the distance, she had been able to see the swell of breasts not much smaller than hers in the moonlight.
The Captain's face showed a mixed heritage, her skin a rich bronze. The seventeen year old guessed her to be in her late twenties or early thirties, and while many men had called Constance beautiful, she felt like an ungainly youth compared to the older woman.
Sleep finally came about an hour later, but until her eyes closed, Constance found herself able to think of nothing but the pirate Captain. An image that followed her into her dreams.
-=-=-=-
The Falcon's Claw made port two days later, and in that time Constance didn't see the Captain again. Nor did she see her during the next month while, after being transferred to a room in the pirate's onshore stronghold, she waited to be ransomed.
As captivities went, Constance found hers far from unpleasant. In fact, all in all it was a more agreeable experience than her early days in the Convent school. Her quarters were hardly the stone walled dungeon she might have imagined. In fact, they were quite comfortable.
In fact it was easy to forget she was a prisoner as she was free to come and go pretty much as she pleased. She was even allowed to venture into the small town beyond the compound, as long as she was accompanied by one of the native women who worked for Captain Morgan. Word quickly spread that she was the "guest" of the Captain and under her protection, after which the townspeople and crewmen from other ships gave her a wide berth.
There didn't even seem to be much Concern that she would use her freedom of access to try and escape. After all, where would she go? One end of the settlement was bordered by the open sea, the other three by a tropical jungle. As well educated as Constance had been, her years in the Convent school had ill prepared her for either environment.
One day soon blended into the next, until the morning of the twenty-eighth day when Constance awoke to find the weather to be even more glorious than usual. That was one thing she didn't miss about her native England, the sometimes harsh drops in temperature. Donning a simple one piece dress, one of many that she had been 'loaned' from among looted stores, the blonde haired woman decided to again take a walk into town and explore the varied sights found there.
She quickly located, Maria, a friend among the servants who usually accompanied her on her walks. Luck would have it that the younger girl was headed into the market and said she would enjoy the company. Under a sunny sky, the two women set off down the half mile path to the village.
They had only gotten half way when a rider overtook them. The well dressed man, which set him apart from many of the men they encountered, was tall and exceedingly handsome. His black hair was cut short and his mustache and beard well trimmed. In short, he was the kind of man most women would easily swoon over. A feeling that Maria felt instantly. But when Constance looked into his cold blue eyes, she only felt fear. Those eyes belonged to Hudson, first mate of the Falcon's Claw.
His appearance was a surprise as the buccaneer had set out to sea two weeks past and was not expected back for at least a fortnight. That they had returned unexpectedly didn't bode well, Constance thought.
"The Captain wants to see you back at the compound," Hudson said, his tone carrying a mix of displeasure and impatience.
Sure that the news wasn't good, Constance Considered for a brief moment the possibility of escape. Her eyes flashed to the edge of the forest, only a few dozen paces to her left. Then reason returned to her thinking as she recalled how ill-prepared she was to act out such a plan. As much as she had put it out of her thoughts, the memory of that night aboard ship and the first mate's skill with a pistol were still there. If she did choose to run, she mused, it was doubtful that she would make half the distance before she met the same fate as the late, ill-fated Rourke.
Instead, Constance took a moment to give Maria what she thought might be a farewell hug, thanking her for all of her kindness during her stay. Hudson watched without comment, keeping a close eyes on the blonde woman until she turned and began to retrace her path back. He followed behind her a ways, never offering to make her journey quicker or easier. Then, just as they reached the edge of the encampment, he turned his horse down another path and moved off to settle another matter.
Once she passed under the large archway, Constance was met by a small boy who seemed to have been waiting for her. He guided her to a part of the old fortress that she had never seen before. They moved past a series of intersecting corridors and up several stairwells, until they reached a large set of wooden double doors. Standing aside the portal were two guards, leaving her to believe that beyond was the Captain's quarters.
Seeing her approach, the guard on the left opened his half of the door and motioned for her to step inside. Constance found her heart pulsing as she followed his instruction, knowing her worse fears lay within. She promised herself that she would face them with courage, as she had tried to face all else in her life, short as it had been.
She was slightly surprised when the door was closed behind her and both the guard and the boy remained outside. A large decorative screen, twice as wide as it was high blocked her view, so it wasn't until she stepped around it that she understood why they had done so.
The room was vast, equal to four times the largest room in her father's house. It was lavishly furnished, filled with the spoils of uncounted plundering. It was also filled with walls of books, more than she had seen in the Convent library, matched only by the equally high piles of what she could only guess were sea charts. There was so much to take in that Constance didn't really see at first the large metal tub situated on the far side of the room, its open end facing a large and equally open set of double windows. Beyond was an expansive panorama of the deep bottomed cove and the ships that filled it.
Even when she did take note of it, the high back of the tub prevented Constance was seeing the tub was occupied. That was until another serving girl appeared from an adjacent room with a small pile of clothing in her arms.
The apprehension in her heart was momentarily replaced by fascination as Constance watched Captain Morgan rise naked from the soapy water. With her back to her, the pirate leader rose to her full five foot nine height and brought her hands to the long red hair that stretched halfway down her back. She squeezed the water from it, sending steady streams down her back and across the compact cheeks of her ass to her equally firm legs.
The muscles of her arms and back flexed as she twisted her locks one more time, exhibiting a power equal to a man but still that of a woman. As she turned to take a drying cloth from the top of her servant's pile, Constance was able to look at her in profile, taking in the fullness of the rounded breasts she had only glimpsed in the moonlight.
She quickly dried herself after stepping from the still warm water, wiping away the small droplets that were already fading in the warm morning sun that flooded the room. Dropping the towel to the floor, she reached next for a pair of long brown breeches she quickly donned, excluding the need for any undergarments. As she moved in the sunlight, Constance was able to see a number of small scars on her body. Not enough to mar her beauty, but enough to attest to a life not spent in comfort.
A cream colored linen shirt came next, one that she left the uppermost half undone just enough as to allow a significant amount of cleavage to be visible. A dark brown leather vest followed, its laces just tight enough to further enhance the bounty of her chest. Boots of a similar hue completed the ensemble, but she was still not completely dressed.
The Captain wrapped a thin dark belt, the buckle of which appeared to be solid gold, around her waist, into which she slipped a long, deadly looking sword, the handle of which was the work of a master craftsman. Several smaller blades followed, filling spaces on the right and back of her belt, as well as the sides of her boots and the inside of her vest.
Finally, Captain Morgan reached down next to the tub and picked up a loaded and fully cocked pistol. She carefully released the hammer and slid the weapon into a holder near her sword. Evidently, not even when bathing was the beautiful woman ever really unarmed.
Turning to face a tall, full length mirror that rested against the wall, the Captain took a few moments to check her appearance. Satisfied, only then did she turn and even acknowledge Constance's presence.
"Leave us," she said to the dark haired servant girl who, after quickly picking up the now wet towel, exited the room back the way she'd come.
The door to the other room closed with a small noise and then a loud click as it was locked from the other side. It was a symbolic action, but one that showed just how much the girl respected her mistress's privacy.
"We seem to have a problem," Captain Morgan said without preamble as she moved over to a long table and poured herself a drink from a silver edged pitcher.
Constance didn't ask what kind of problem, sure that she already knew the answer. Instead she tried to project a look of innocence and Confusion, hoping that she could look equally surprised if it turned out to be what she dreaded it was.
The Captain paused to talk a long drink of the cold liquid, glancing out the window at the pirate fleet that was hers. She took a Second taste, then Continued her statement.
"I have to Confess that I was somewhat surprised when Mister Torrungton failed to immediately pay your freedom price when my agent Contacted him last month," she began. "I did not think it excessive for one of his means, especially for one of your beauty."
She paused again to drain the last of her glass, then set it on the table as she turned around.^¿
"But knowing of his reputation as a man reluctant to needlessly part with his gold, I decided to grant him his request to first Contact your father in England for instructions. I suspected that in reality he was asking your father to shoulder half the burden, but that is none of my Concern. I care not from where my payment comes and I can afford to be a little patient for it."
She stepped closer to Constance, then added a more menacing corollary that particular decision wasn't popular with some of her associates.
"Then, just five days ago, the latest cargo ship from England reached Hamilton, escorted no less by a Frigate carrying thirty guns to ensure its safe passage," she went on. "Hearing that your intended had been there to meet the ship when it made port, I again sent my agent to his house. What he discovered was most unsettling."
The pirate woman paused once more, giving Constance a chance to comment on what she had said so far. The younger woman declined to do so, but suspected that her captor knew that the information she was imparting wasn't exactly unexpected.
There was a woman on that ship, whom I've been told is your older sister, Prudence. My agent initially reported that he believed that she might have been sent with the gold in order to make sure that it was used for your release. Then, much to his surprise, Torrungton not only didn't make any arrangements to unload any gold, he instead immediately set out to arrange a wedding ceremony. In less than forty-eight hours of her arrival, your fiancee instead took your sister to his marriage bed. Where I might add. he had reportedly remained since."
Unable to totally Control herself any longer, Constance let out an audible sigh. Not at the turn of events, which as she admitted to herself was surely a possibility, but over the fact that she would no longer act as if were not. That her ransom might actually have been paid.
"If it's any small Conciliation," the tall woman offered, "it was the opinion of my agent, who has seen both you and your sister by the way, that Torrungton has settled for an inferior bride."
The words brought her small comfort as Constance thought of her sister, Prudence. Fifteen months older than her, Prudence had the misfortune to have been caught in an inappropriate situation with a man who already had a wife. The scandal that had resulted had been muted due to their father's influence, but had been enough to make in near impossible for him to arrange a suitable pairing for her among the sons of his fellows who had heard the whispers. Evidently, Torrungton hadn't heard them or didn't care. Constance's only real regret about it all was that her father didn't send him Prudence in the first place so that she would be standing here instead of her.
"Still, as I said in the beginning, this has left me with somewhat of a problem," Captain Morgan said, interrupting Constance's musings.
Constance banished any thought of her sister, now giving the woman now only a few feet in front of her full and undivided attention. Everything up to this point had been a preface. Now she would learn the reason she had been sent for.
"A Captain who fails to secure their crew their promised share of a bounty might soon find themselves in a precarious position," the Captain said. "There comes a point where fear of retribution might not be enough to stay certain elements."
Constance took that statement with the proverbial grain of salt. She wasn't so naive as to think that the infamous Morgan the Red was really worried that her crew might mutiny over a few lost pieces of eight. Even if her Contact with the Captain had been severely limited, she'd seen the way just about all of the people on this island regarded her. It wasn't so much fear as awe.
No, the pirate leader was using the scenario to make a point. One that Constance couldn't figure out, but was sure she wasn't going to like.
"It's been suggested to me by Hudson, who aside from my agent is the only one who knows the ransom isn't forthcoming, that there is another way for us to recover our loss," Captain Morgan said as Constance hung on every word. "That we might turn you over to the slaver auction on San Marcos and be able to get an equal if not greater price for you."
Constance's mouth fell open in shock, her mind unable to form words.
"This, I assure you, is not a decision that I would make lightly," the other woman extended. "Cold hearted as I have been accused of being at times, I would take no pleasure in sending a woman such as yourself into a life like that. There are men who would eagerly bid on you there that would actually make your sister's new husband seem like a prize catch."
Constance still had trouble finding words to express what she was feeling. The image of Rourke and his filthy hands upon her filled her mind. A night that might just have been a harbinger of things to come.
"Yet, as I explained before, my men expect to be paid and I'm at somewhat of a loss as to what other options I have," the Captain said as she brought their discussion to a Conclusion. "Unless you have any suggestions?"
Obviously, she didn't, but Constance did decide to take the opportunity to ask if she might ask a question. One that she had been wondering about since that night on the Falcon's Claw. After all, even a Condemned prisoner usually got a last request, didn't they?
Evidently, the older woman felt that way as well, indicating that she could ask the question.
"How did you wind up as the leader of these people?" Constance asked.
-=-=-=-
The question seemed to take her captor by surprise, but nevertheless, she did seem to give it Considerable thought before answering. That she didn't dismiss it out of hand was a good sign Constance thought.
"Why don't you have a seat," the Captain as she offered Constance one of the cushioned chairs near the window. "That might take a little explaining."
Her curiosity aroused and eager to think about something else than being sold off like a prize cow, Constance accepted the offer. Sitting down, she got the impression that it wasn't a story that she shared with many people, or that it was one that the Captain preferred not be well known. The younger woman now wondered if it was a good thing that she might now be one of the few. It might save her from the auction block, but might it lead her to something worse. Then she asked herself if there was anything that might be worse?
"First of all," the red headed woman said as she took one of the seats next to Constance, "my given name is Rachel. My father was Morgan the Red, at least the original one."
"Is he dead?" Constance asked, thinking that was a logical Conclusion.
"No, he's alive and well, or at least he was the last time I saw him," Rachel corrected her.
"I don't understand."
"A few years ago, my father decided to retire, to live out his last years in comfort. Something that normally doesn't happen for men in his kind of life," she explained. "The problem was, his Majesty's Navy doesn't like to let men such as him just fade away, especially not after all the damage he'd done to their reputations in these waters."
It hadn't occurred to Constance that many of the stories she'd heard of Morgan were twenty years old or more and that they couldn't have applied to this woman who couldn't be much more than ten years older than her.
"So in order for him to simply disappear, there still had to be a Morgan."
"He just turned it all over to you and the men followed?" Constance asked.
"No, it wasn't that simple," she clarified. "True, he could've just given me the Falcon's Claw since it was his ship, but that didn't mean any of the other Captains would automatically follow me. I had to prove myself first."
"How did you do that?" Constance asked, thinking how little respect men had for women in most parts of the world, much less here in such an untamed land.
"By being better than they were."
The look on Constance's face said that she didn't understand how that could be. Weren't men normally superior to women?
"I guess I should start at the beginning," Rachel said as she leaned back in her chair, her thoughts drifting back to her childhood. "My father loved my mother as few men love a woman. Even now, he still mourns her death from the fever. Any way, next to his love for her, the one thing he wanted most in life was a son to carry on his name."
Constance nodded her understanding of that aspect, knowing that was an aspiration carried by most men, including her father.
"Fate, however, gave him a daughter instead, twins actually, myself and my sister, Elizabeth. A gift that they only let him keep a few weeks before she also died of the fever. His attitude toward a daughter changed after that. He now looked at me as his heir regardless of my gender. From that day on, what he knew, he endeavored to teach me as well, along with every bit of knowledge the rest of his Captains had. By the time I was fifteen, I could sail a ship to almost any point on a map, or hold my own against any man with a sword in my hand. He also made sure that I learned about other subjects as well, trading precious gold for the books you see around you, all of which I've read more than once."
Constance Considered Rachel's life against her own. How her father had seen the potential in her while her own had only seen shame to be hidden away. Morality aside, it was a life she almost wished she could have led.
"I worked my way up among his crew, starting from the orlop deck to the bridge, holding every position from loblolly boy to first mate. Finally, about five years ago, my father came to me and told me it was time for him to go. I haven't seen him since."
There was a sadness in Rachel's eyes as she finished her tale. Constance couldn't help but think that despite all that she found herself envying about her, the older woman was very much alone in her life. She wanted to say something, but was interrupted by a loud knock on the door.
"Captain!" a loud voice boomed from the other side of the wood, "the Sea Dog is coming into port."
Rachel rose from her chair and glanced out the window, her sharp eyes quickly focusing on the sails just past the horizon. Duty called.
"I'm afraid we'll have to cut our chat short," Rachel said as she reached for the hat she had left hanging on a post. "A pity, I wanted to ask a few questions about your life as well. Maria had already told me much about it and I was curious about a few things."
"Maria told you?" Constance asked, thinking of the many hours she had spent walking and talking to the younger girl.
"Of course," Rachel smiled as she adjusted the hat in the mirror, "there is little that goes on here on my island that I don't know about."
Constance rose to her feet, realizing that the moment was over and that her problems had returned. A view reflected on her face.
"Perhaps we can talk again later," the tall woman said as she reasserted herself in the image of Morgan the Red.
"I'd like that," Constance said.
"One thing though," the Captain said as she headed for the door, "I've given orders that you no longer be allowed to visit outside the fortress. Until I decide what to do with you, I'd much prefer to know where you are. In fact, it might be better if you stayed in your room until I got back."
"Of course," Constance said dishearteningly.
With that, Morgan the Red was gone.
-=-=-=-
All through the long afternoon and into the evening hours, Constance sat in her room, now finally feeling like a prison, and Contemplated her future. A future that looked bleaker with each passing hour. Staring out the window at the setting sun, she wondered if she would have the strength to throw herself to the street far below. Death might be preferable to the sexual slavery that Captain Morgan had hinted might be her fate.
A loud knock at the door interrupted her musings. She turned away from the window, and possible death, just as the heavy door opened from the outside. In walked Maria, her ever present smile filling her face.
Putting aside her dark thoughts, Constance found herself returning the younger girl's smile. It was that infectious. The result, the blonde haired woman thought, of a simple life with not a care in the world.
"The Captain would like you to join her for dinner," Maria said, her tone reflecting what a great honor she held such an invitation. "I've been sent to help you get ready."
Constance glanced down at the simple dress that she had been wearing since the day she arrived and wanted to laugh. Getting ready for dinner Consisted of little more than washing her face and hands, a practice that seemed little practiced among most of the people she'd seen on this island.
Maria caught the look on Constance's face and actually did laugh. The girl might've lived a simple life, but she was hardly stupid. The joke was on Constance as Maria motioned to the guard who stood by the door and in response to her summons, two more men appeared at the entrance carrying a large, decorated, chest. One that the Englishwoman recognized immediately.
"My things!" she exclaimed as she rushed forward to inspect the Contents as they laid it down in the center of the room.
So surprised was she to find all of her most precious possessions still intact, Constance never noticed the leers of the two seaman as they looked her over before leaving. That at least one of them could see right down her dress as she bent over was the furthest thing from her mind.
"The Captain would like you to dress for dinner," Maria explained as the door closed behind them, "and thought you would prefer your own clothes to anything else."
The words hardly registered on Constance as she reached down deep into the trunk and pulled out an emerald green gown. Her eyes opened wide as she looked at it again, remembering how wonderful it had felt against her skin the first time she had tried it on at the dressmakers back in England. It was the finest thing that she had ever owned, and not even the fact that it was the dress she was to meet her future husband in could diminish her love of it.
"Dinner you said," Constance said to Maria as the younger girl also admired the fine garment.
"Yes."
"Is there going to be anyone else there?" Constance asked, wondering if perhaps she was being asked to dress finely as to show off the merchandise to some prospective buyer."
"Not that the Captain mentioned to me," Maria answered, using words that told Constance nothing.
"Well, they say the Condemned should have a hearty meal," Constance mused out loud, much to Maria's Confusion.
-=-=-=-
Using a wooden tub far less grand than the one she had found the Captain using, Constance cleansed herself of several days grime. Previously, she had to make do with a washbasin and a rag. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be really clean.
Maria assisted her in dressing as well, and in short order, Constance found herself gazing at the young woman she had almost forgotten herself capable of being. The mirror, like the bathtub, had been quickly produced from somewhere in the pirate stores.
As she had watched the way the fearsome seaman quickly moved to carry out Maria's commands, Constance wondered if she might have underestimated the girl's place in this society. Or what it merely that they knew that she was carrying out the instructions of the Captain and any failure to assist her would quickly make its way back to Morgan the Red. From what she had already seen of the Captain's displeasure, Constance almost pitied anyone on the receiving end of it.
Finally, after making a dozen small alterations, Constance was satisfied with her appearance. Maria complimented her on how beautiful she looked and, taking one last look at her reflection, the blonde had to agree.
Maria led Constance out into the hall, where she was surprised to discover that the guard was now gone. In fact, as they walked down the passageway and up the stairs to the Captain's quarters, they didn't pass a soul. Constance wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
Maria paused at the door, then gently tapped against the wood, signaling their presence. She waited another long moment before pulling the right half of the door open. As before, the inner partition prevented Constance from seeing inside. Also as in her previous visit, she was allowed to enter alone.
Stepping around the inner wall, Constance opened her eyes in amazement. In the few hours since she had been there, the room had undergone a total transformation. The floors and walls had been scrubbed spotless, with the stacks of books and maps carefully put away. A large table now sat in the center of the room, laid out for an extravagant dinner. To her relief, Constance saw that there were only two place settings.
Moving over to the table, Constance saw that several meat and fish dishes had already been laid out. Along with the food were several bottles of wine resting in, if all things, ice. She would've wondered where they ever managed to get ice in this climate, if she hadn't been startled by the sudden appearance of Captain Morgan from the other room.
"I wasn't sure exactly what you would like," the Captain said as she stepped into the main room, "So I had my cook prepare a little of ... my God, you are beautiful!" she blurted out as she got her first good look at her guest.
Constance was also stunned by the Captain's appearance, but couldn't find the words. Morgan the Red now wore a black pair of britches, a fine white silk shirt and a royal blue Captain's coat with real gold buttons and embroidery. Her long hair was again tied back in a matching ribbon, but this time in a style more flattering to a woman.
The two women sat down to dinner, and for a time, it was possible to forget the world outside these walls. They talked of everything but the situation at hand. The food and wine, of which both shared a capacious amount of, added to the enjoyment of their Conversation. A Conversation filled with questions about Constance's life. The answers, which Constance gave freely, seemed to fascinate the older woman.
They talked right up to the midnight hour, at which point the Captain changed both her tone and the subject matter. It was a change that told Constance that the moment she had been dreading was now here.
"I promised my men that I'd make a decision about you today," she said, "and since the new day is upon us, I see no reason to wait any longer."
Constance took a deep breath and looked down at the remnants of the feast they had Consumed. It was a pity, she thought, that such a nice night had to come to such an ignoble end.
"I guess I should tell you that I've already had an offer from Captain Sontulli to pay your ransom and save me the trouble of shipping you off to San Marcos," she Continued without any sign of emotion in her voice.
"Captain Sontulli?" Constance asked.
"You saw him the day the Falcon's Claw made landfall," came the response. "He's the Captain of the Sea Dog and also the agent I sent to see Mr. Torrungton. Which is why he already knows that no payment will be coming from that quarter."
Constance tried to picture the men she saw waiting for Morgan the Red on the landing that day. She had no real idea of which was Sontulli, but couldn't recall any man that day she would want to willingly give herself to.
"And what would be want me for?" she asked, hoping for an answer other than the one she knew to be true.
"He is a man, with a man's lusts," came the simple reply, giving no doubt that the outcome would be any different than if she was sent to the auction block.
"Then I don't seem to have any other choice," Constance said in resignation.
Whether it was by her father's hand, or this pirate Captain, her fate seemed to have been destined to be the same. To be the sexual plaything of a man she could never care for, to be used only for the pleasures her body might provide.
"I do have another choice, however," the dark haired woman said unexpectedly, "but one which I wasn't sure I wanted to Consider until tonight."
She now had Constance's full and undivided attention as the young woman hung on every word that might follow.
"I could pay the price myself."
It was an unexpected answer indeed.
"But why would you do that?" Constance asked after Considering the option for a few moments.
Now it was the Captain who hesitated a dozen heartbeats before giving an answer.
"Because it is not only the men in these waters who are in need of companionship."
"Oh," was all Constance could say in response.
Despite her sheltered upbringing, the convent-reared woman more than understood the nature of what the Captain alluded to by companionship. While her knowledge of the intimacies men and women shared in the darkness were limited and theoretical, those that girls might share together were more familiar.
It had not been uncommon, after the Sisters had locked their charges in their dormitory at night, for certain of the older girls to leave their own beds and slip under the sheets of another already occupied. Sometimes, this happened in beds close enough for Constance to lie away and listen to their soft moans as they rubbed their bodies together. Moans and quiet, yet excited cries that left the blonde haired girl with a sense of curiosity about what they were doing.
A curiosity that had been finally satisfied last summer when one of those girls, Charity Nelson, had unexpectedly climbed into her own bed. An action that both surprised and captivated Constance, as she had never before been Considered part of their private circle. It would be a few days later that she learned that one of the group had been Confined to the infirmary that night, leaving an odd number of participants in the weekly ritual. Rather than forgo her pleasures, Charity, who had noticed Constance more than once paying quite a bit of attention to her activities on other nights, decided to pay her an uninvited visit.
Before Constance could decide if she should complain or let events take their course, Charity was already rubbing their bodies together and placing her hands on places on the younger woman's body that no one save her had ever touched. Curiosity, then pleasure quickly replaced any sense of reluctance, and in no time at all, the redheaded girl had brought her to that happy place that she had only visited alone. It was a wondrous experience indeed, Constance remembered thinking.
So wondrous, in fact, that Constance felt a deep measure of disappointment when Charity's usual bedmate returned to their quarters. With the circle complete once more, the blonde haired girl was once more left on the outside.
"So you would take me just as a man would." Constance said as a statement more than a question, surprising herself with her directness. Yet, then again, it was easy to be brave when you had nothing to lose.
"If that was what I wished, who is there on this island to tell me no?" came a quick reply.
Constance knew the answer to that was no one. In fact, she found herself wondering why the Captain hadn't simply taken her and then sold her to Sontulli as well. That did seem to be the kind of thing a pirate would do.
"But," the Pirate said as the tone of her voice again changed to that of Rachel rather than Morgan the Red, "I've long believed that the fruit of the vine is much sweeter when it's freely given, rather than ripped from a tree branch."
Constance wondered how it could be freely given when she was still a captive, but even that Consideration seemed to be overwhelmed by the fascination she felt for the woman now only a few feet away from her. Deep in her soul, however wrong it might be to wish it, the Englishwoman knew that she wanted to be in the arms of this Pirate Queen, if only for this night. What Rachel said next, only made Constance want her even more.
"So I've decided to pay your ransom myself and set you free," Rachel said. "Whatever you do from this point on is of your own accord. If you wish it, I will even give orders for a ship to set sail on the dawn to take you to Jamaica and the life you left behind."
It seemed like the answer to her every night's prayer, but not one that Constance was inclined to make this night. Instead she rose to her feet and walked the few steps to where Rachel was still sitting. Her fingers reached behind herself for the top lace of the six that held her tight fitting gown against her body. A body so close that the dark haired woman was only inches from the rich, creamy bounty beneath the emerald green.
"If it is my choice," Constance said as the first restraint came loose, "then my choice is to stay."
"In that case," Rachel countered with a beaming smile as she rose from her chair and stood behind Constance, "let me do that."
Deft fingers quickly worked the remaining laces, exposing Constance's back. Rachel ran an outstretched hand across the pale skin, leaving a faint impression to mark its passage. It was a touch that sent a shiver of excitement through Constance's body, especially between her legs.
The shiver quickly grew to a shudder as Rachel leaned forward and kissed, first the center of Constance's back, then the base of her neck. Constance let out a soft moan as the brunette brought her other hand up and tilted the shorter woman's head back. Realizing her intent, Constance leaned back even further and closed her eyes as their lips met.
The crush of Rachel's mouth against her own was as soft as Constance imagined it might be. Yet, at the same time, it was filled with a passion strong enough to warm her down to her toes. It made the playful kisses she had once shared with other students seem like child's play indeed.
Rachel kissed her again, this time her tongue pressed hard against the inexperienced woman's lips, forcing them apart. Constance instinctively responded, opened her mouth wide to accept the offering, then teasing it with her own. The exchange continued for the longest time as they became more comfortable and their passions grew.
As they continued to kiss, Rachel slid her hands across Constance's bare shoulders until they came to rest against the now loose folds of her dress. Gripping them tightly, she pulled down both the emerald gown and the white undergarment beneath it until Constance could feel the night breeze from the open window wash across her skin. The cool air caused her now bare nipples to grow hard.
Reluctantly letting their lips part, Rachel relaxed her embrace just enough to let Constance slip out of her outfit completely. She did so quickly, and with considerably less concern for the garment than when she had put in on. Before Rachel could take a dozen breaths, the blonde haired woman stood naked in the light of the many candles that filled the room.
Standing there as nude as the day she was born, Constance felt a surge of exhilarating freedom that she had never felt before. All of her life, even when she shared common quarters with several dozen other girls, she had been taught to hide her body in shame. She had even been admonished to always avert her eyes when one of the other girls changed or washed, lest she view their bodies. Even that night Charity had come to her bed, neither of them had completely disrobed.
The candlelight that bathed Constance's body also reflected in Rachel's eyes as the Pirate Captain took in the beauty of her prize. Never, she quickly decided, had she seen such a pleasing image.
Long silky hair, the color of sun-kissed honey, reached down to below her shoulders. Captivating blue eyes one couldn't help but be drawn deep into looked back at her as their eyes met for a brief moment. Her gaze dropped to the sweet pink lips that she had just drank deeply of. From there she moved further downward to breasts as full as her own, with large pink nipples hard and erect. Finally, Rachel focused on the lightly haired, almost translucent, triangle that covered as coveted a prize as any the Freebooter had ever plundered.
Even as her eyes never shifted from Constance's near perfect form, Rachel removed her Captain's coat, dropping it across her chair. Her hands reached up to the collar of her ruffled blouse where she began to undo its buttons.
"No, please let me," Constance implored, echoing Rachel's words of only a few minutes before.
A blissful smile filled Rachel's face as she removed her hands and gestured for Constance to take over. The shorter blonde closed the distance between them and picked up where the brunette left off.
Those blue eyes that Rachel had so admired filled with excitement as more of the bronzed skin beneath the silk blouse became visible, allowing Constance a much better view of that which she had only glimpsed during the Captain's bath. A gasp spilled from her lips as she exposed the second dark mound and saw a long deep scar that ran along one side and almost the length of the valley between. A stark reminder of the difference in their lives.
Rachel took note of the momentary distress on Constance's face. It reminded her of the day she had gotten that scar. Of how deep the wound had been and how lucky she had been to survive. The injury stood as a reminder of how fragile life was and how she would never again let anyone keep her from that which she desired.
Dismissing the harsh half of that memory from her mind, Rachel took Constance's hands in her own and placed them against her rounded globes. She gave her the lightest of kisses and let her younger lover explore the warmth and softness of her mounds.
It was an exploration that caused Constance's heart to race and a feeling of lightheadedness to pass over her as she rubbed her fingers against Rachel's nipples, feeling them grow hard at her caress. Rachel's face filled with delight and a soft moan slipped from her lips, a long, pleasing cry that grew in intensity along with the flames of lust.
It heralded a rising need that Rachel could not long ignore. She had planned to let Constance take her time and ease herself into the situation. But it had only taken the press of their bodies against each other for her to realize that was a hopeless wish. She had been alone for far too long, her hunger too urgent.
She took Constance in her arms and kissed her once more, this time hard and passionately. Then, in a burst of strength fueled by eroticism, she lifted Constance into the air and carried her off in the direction of her bedroom.
Rather than be scared by the sudden movement, Constance felt strangely safe in her arms. Safe, and anxious to feel more of the fires that were also raging within her.
-=-=-=-
Only the light of the full moon spilling through the open window illuminated the small bedroom. In such low lighting, it was quite difficult for Constance to make out her surroundings as they stepped inside. A detail that mattered little at the moment as the only aspect of the room that concerned her was the large bed that occupied half of it. A bed that Rachel dropped her on, then took a few steps back.
Now it was Constance's turn to watch as Rachel divested herself of the open shirt that still hung from her shoulders. The rest of her clothing followed just as rapidly. Unlike the woman on the bed, the pirate leader never wore undergarments, so the largest portion of her time was spent just getting off her boots.
Constance felt like time stood still as she waited for Rachel to join her in bed. For some reason, the words of advice given to her by the old woman her father had sent to her to prepare her for what she should expect on her wedding night came to mind. This wasn't exactly that, but it was the closest thing to it she thought. She found that somewhat strange as she really didn't think the advice to not complain and meekly submit to her husband's desires was really going to be of much use.
Rachel had the opposite reaction, as if time was racing and she had none to waste. Reaching the center of the bed where Constance lay, she reached out and ran her hand up the blonde's outstretched leg. She followed her fingers with her warm lips, planting kisses behind her caress. Both gentle touches sending escalating sparks of electricity through the prone woman.
Reaching the lightly haired mound between Constance's legs, Rachel brushed her fingers back and forth across it, turning those tiny sparks into bolts of lightning. Constance's body jumped as Rachel's fingers rubbed against her clit once, twice, then a third time. It took all Rachel's self-control to abandon that prize so near, but she knew she would return to it soon enough.
The dark haired woman continued upward, leaving a train of kisses across her stomach until she reached the large twin mounds so like her own. The inviting nipples drew her attention, first her hands, then her mouth.
Constance moaned loudly as Rachel's lips closed around her excited tips, her darting tongue adding to the most wonderful sensations she had ever felt. Her hands massaged the supple flesh around them, adding to the magic.
"Blessed Mother," the young woman cried out, "I've never felt so good!"
Letting the hard nub slip from her mouth, Rachel's lips formed into a wicked smile. She knew that even better things were ahead.
Constance writhed beneath her as Rachel returned to the task at hand, or mouth as the case might be. Gripping the soft firm breasts in her hands again, she once more lowered her mouth to one of Constance's areole and bit down on the plump nipple. The younger woman cried out in pleasure, reaching out with her own hands and grabbing the back of Rachel's head, pulling her even harder against her mound. Rachel repeated her action twice more, alternating the love bites with gentle thrusts of her tongue. Then she moved to the other breast and started all over.
"More, more!" Constance called out.
And more was exactly what Rachel had to give. Lifting herself even higher, she moved further up on the bed so that her own breasts now hung over Constance's face. The inexperienced lover quickly reached up and took one in each hand, massaging them with her fingers as she had a short time before. Rachel moved lower, bringing her breasts even closer, along with an invitation that Constance was all to eager to act upon.
Rachel's breasts felt so sweet in her mouth as Constance worked her tongue against the wide nipple, trying to duplicate the amazing things Rachel had done with hers. An effort that while not perfect, was more than good enough.
Even as the fever across her own chest grew in strength, Rachel shifted her body as to still allow Constance access to the bounty she now suckled at, but to also extend her reach. Her left hand moved down between the blonde's legs, quickly coming to rest on the lightly haired patch.
Riding a wave of pleasure, Rachel parted the folds with her fingers and slipped one between them. She was surprised at how wet it already was, but not at the reaction to its entry. It was one that she had already seen in other women who had shared her bed over the years.
Rubbing that finger back and forth, covering it with the juices of her efforts, Rachel was pleased as she felt Constance's body began to move in synch with hers. Responding to the thrusts of her hand with those of her body.
A second finger soon followed the first, adding to the power of her penetrations as Constance squirmed even more. Rachel worked the pair harder and deeper, finally adding a third to the mix bringing forth an even louder cry that surely could be heard by anyone on the streets below. Neither of them cared.
The fires in each of their bodies merged, forming a single soul shattering inferno. It was a summons that neither Rachel nor Constance could ignore. They were now one being, with only one goal.
Rachel pulled out her fingers and reversed her earlier movement. In the space of a single heartbeat, before Constance could even realized that she had moved, the dark haired woman's head was between her legs and had picked up with her tongue where her fingers had left off.
If Constance had been electrified by the press of Rachel's tongue against her nipple, that of it against her clit was enough to send her totally over the edge. Her body rocked with each wet thrust inside her, as oscillating ripples of delight tore through her frame.
"I...I..," Constance gasped as she tried to form words to express what she felt, but her breaths were coming too fast for even that.
But Rachel needed no words of encouragement, not when she was so close to the goal she had envisioned from the moment this prize had fell under her sway. She worked the inner walls of Constance's womanhood with the same enthusiasm that she led a boarding party onto a Spanish Galleon. Ravishing her innocence with a vengeance, she pulled the enlarged clit deep into her mouth, sucking it hard and rolling it against her.
Rachel's body quaked almost as hard as Constance's as the finest of wines fueled her fires. And still it wasn't enough. She wanted her lover to share in the sweet ambrosia as well. With the cat-like reflexes that had allowed her to move across a battle raged deck without harm, Rachel again shifted her body without missing a beat in the pleasures she was bringing Constance.
The movement was enough, however, to cause Constance to open the eyes she'd previously shut to enjoy the sensations Rachel's ministrations had produced. To her surprise, and delight, Rachel's dark covered sex was now only inches from her own mouth. As hard as it was to shift even part of her attention from what was happening between her own legs, it was a treasure that couldn't be ignored.
Constance reached up and closed the palms of her hands against the cheeks of Rachel's ass, drawing her even closer. Her tongue reached up and pressed against the saturated mound. It was the first time in her life she had ever seen a woman's sex, and that included her own. But as excited as she was, she wasn't about to let a little thing like that hold her back.
Opening the way to the pinkness within with both her hands, Constance first kissed the moist flesh, then extended her tongue as far as it would go, pressing it back and forth along the nectar covered walls. Never having tasted the fruits of a woman, not even her own, Constance wasn't sure what to expect. To her delight, it was like the sweetest of candies. Once she had a taste of it, she only wanted more.
Rachel's mouth was too occupied to give a verbal reaction to Constance's actions, so she encouraged her the best way she knew. Namely by working her agile tongue even harder into Constance's dark recesses and bringing her even greater pleasures.
The effect was infectious as Constance tried to copy Rachel's action. Her results were mixed, but satisfying none the less. She drew deeper and deeper into the woman on top of her, her own eagerness growing in leaps and bounds as she felt Rachel respond to her touch.
Rachel could feel that Constance was so very close to orgasm and wanted to catch up. She pressed her wet mound even harder against the blonde's mouth, so that no matter what she did, any motion was immediately translated into pure joy. With no more room for even her hands, Constance reached above her head and tightly gripped the headboard, holding it tightly as a thunderstorm raged throughout her body.
A storm that had it's twin in Rachel as she felt her own orgasm racing up to meet her. The part of her ruled by logic told her that she should slow down a little, lest Constance reach her climax and be unable to bring her to hers. But it was the part of her ruled by passion was in control now and that simply wasn't an option. There was no force on Earth, not even the sudden appearance of a dozen of His Majesty's warships in the cove beyond her window, that would cause her pause.
As it turned out, it was a concern she need not have worried about. As important as the physical aspects of love were, the mental ones played an even greater role. The knowledge that she was Constance's first, and nothing would ever change that, was enough to bridge the gap and bring them both to fruition at almost the same time.
It was Constance that climaxed first, her body growing rigid as the dam within her that held a lifetime of denied pleasures crumbled with overwhelming force. Her body thundered as those erotic forces took hold of every aspect of her mind and body, bringing her the most enjoyable moments of her young life.
As the rational part of Rachel's mind had feared, the onset of Constance's orgasm had put an end to her efforts to bring the same to her lover. Thankfully, the forces set in motion could not be stopped. The rapture that gripped her a short time afterwards was as pleasing to her as the younger woman's had been for her.
-=-=-=-
By the time the light of the morning sun replaced that of the pale moonlight, the two women had made love twice more. Each time, Constance's performance had improved, until on her third attempt, she had even brought Rachel to her climax first. After that, they had just fallen asleep naked in each other's arms, enjoying the ambient heat of each other's body.
Rachel had awoken first and quietly slipped out of bed just long enough to send for Maria and order breakfast for the two of them. Before the smiling servant girl could even reach the end of the long corridor, Rachel had rejoined Constance in bed.
"Good morning," she said to the young blonde as she brushed aside the sweat matted hair that covered her eyes. "and how is my love this morning?"
"Your love is tired and very hungry," Constance smiled as she opened her eyes wide.
"I've sent Maria for food."
"It's not food that I'm hungry for," Constance laughed as she sat up, causing the thin sheet that had draped across her body to fall away, exposing her inviting breasts.
"My my, what happened to the shy, virginal girl who went to convent school?" Rachel laughed, even as her eyes were drawn to the bright pink nipples she knew to be so sweet.
"You're what happened," Constance replied as she leaned forward to kiss her. "and I hardly think I qualify as virginal anymore."
Rachel met her halfway, their mouths opening wide as they once more explored each other's depths with their tongues. It was a morning kiss that lasted a very long time. Interrupted only when Maria returned with a basket of fruits and other sweets.
Rachel was still stark naked when Constance, her own nudity covered by the sheet she had wrapped around her, stepped into the main room where Maria was laying out the meal she had brought for the Captain and her guest.
The clothes that Maria had helped her don the night before were still scattered around the floor, leaving no doubt as to what had happened after dinner. Looking back at her when she turned to wish her a good morning, Constance wasn't sure what the younger girl made of it.
There was a look in the young girl's eyes that she couldn't really decipher. It made her wonder if, perhaps Maria had once spent time in the Captain's bed. That might help explain some of the men's deferment to her. If that was the case, the girl didn't seem to be the least upset at having been replaced. If anything, she seemed even happier than usual at the obvious improvement in her mistress's demeanor.
"Thank you, Maria," the Captain said as she dismissed her, adding in a lower voice that only she could hear, "for everything."
Rachel waited until the door closed behind Maria, picking up an appetizing piece of fruit from the bowl she had left. She took a small bite of it, savoring the taste.
"Now where were we?" she said to Constance who had joined her at the table.
"We were talking about hungers," she replied.
"Oh yes," Rachel laughed as she held out the piece of fruit and offered her guest a bite from the other side.
Constance tilted her head forward and took a bite, their eyes meeting as she did. The nectar was almost as sweet as that she had enjoyed the night before.
Rachel put down the fruit and kissed her again, this time the juices of the fruit mixed with the remnants of those from their lovemaking. It was an intoxicating combination.
"Perhaps we can take the breakfast back to bed with us," Rachel suggested.
"I think that's a lovely idea," Constance replied, "almost as lovely as you are in the morning."
As their lips met, each woman was sure of a new truth. One that would continue to prove as unshakable in the years to come as it did in this moment.
For Constance, she knew that her life had begun anew and that she would never leave this woman's side. Whatever had come before had been but a prelude to her destiny. A destiny she now wholeheartedly embraced.
For Rachel, whom the world would never know also carried the name of Morgan the Red, it was the knowledge that her decision to pay the ransom herself, and then setting Constance free had been the best decision she had ever made. Holding her lover in her arms, stroking her long, silky hair, she realized that gold came in many forms. Some more precious than others.
-=-=-=-
The saga of Morgan the Red continued to grow in the years to follow, earning a place as one of the most feared Pirates of the Caribbean. It was a legend that remained long after the day he himself disappeared with his young bride and a fortune in plundered wealth.
It was also said that his disappearance had centered around his taking of a son and heir. An orphaned lad they took in in place of the child, it was rumored, that his wife could not give him. That was one aspect of the legend that men soon learned at peril to their life not to inquire too deeply into.
Long after other pirates of the era were largely forgotten, Morgan the Red was remembered. Nearly two centuries later, the islanders of San Cristobal were rewarded for the secrets they'd kept with the arrival of the descendant of Morgan's son. With Sean McMurphy, came the redemption of long ago promises. A redemption that was continued to this day by his granddaughter, Scarlett.
END
Ann Douglas Web Page
http://www.asstr.org/~Ann_Douglas/
======================================
Comments are the life blood of any amateur writer, the currency in which they are paid. It only takes a few minutes to send off a few lines, which is little to ask for in exchange for hours spent creating a story. So be sure to take those few minutes, it can only result in more and better stories in the future.