Stow-away (closed)

Wynter had to escape, there was nothing else she could do. So what if she was pampered and petted like a princess, anymore it was all she could do not to scream at her father's servants. She would leave. She craved excitement and adventure, and she could fight, having been taught by her tutor how to bear a small sword and she carried about her person always a small dagger. She was safe.

Wynter waited until her governess and ladies maid fell asleep and stole into the night, leaving the large city house of her father behind her. She hurried through the dark cobbled streets to the quay, and she found one that looked suitable, as men hauled things aboard even this late in the night. She quickly climbed above, grunting at the men around her to deflect any notice, and she had also worn pants so as not to identify herself as a girl either. She knew that until they got underway she could be discovered and sent home, and in fact worried that her father might have already discovered her absence, so she hid in the nicest room that she could find, she could only guess that it might be the captain's quarters, and she desperately hoped that she wouldn't be discovered hiding in the closet.

The ship lay by the quayside shrouded in the early morning fog. The tendrils of fog curled around the mast of the ship and slipped through the rigging like the ghostly fingers of some unholy wraith waiting to ensnare the innocent and devour them body and soul. The erry echo of the creaking of the ship's lines and timbers as she lay there bound and tethered to the land straining to be free. The hollow tread of her Master upon her deck, mingling with her sighs and moans. The name board at her stern proclaimed her as The Chastened Maiden and her Master went by the name of Miles Goodman but what was in a name it was the character that mattered and Miles Goodman's was as dark and haunted as the night's

"MR. Caswell set the headsail, loose the top gallants and prepare to cast off."

There was a beating of bare feet upon the deck as all hands jump too to do the Captain's bidding. The Chastened Maiden sail billowed and filled she strained at the lines that still bound her to the land.

MR. Caswell take in all lines fore and aft.

Take in all lines fore and aft.

The command was echoed and the ship began to move as she slipped her bounds and was at last freed form the land. She moved like a ghost through the fog as she put to sea. Once clear of the headlands and free from the confines of the harbor under full sail the Chastened Maiden came alive as she rose and fell gently with the seas more a part of them than a slave tethered to the shore.

Captain Miles Goodman once the sea watch was set made his way below decks to his cabin at the stern of the ship He opened the little cupboard that served as a closet and much to his surprise there tumbled out as the ship took a roll a little redheaded waft tumbled out on to the deck of his cabin to lay sprawled at his feet.

" And what do we have here?"

His voice was deep lost somewhere between a bass and a baritone it carried the note of command to it, a voice that most defiantly was accustomed to be obeyed. Goodman towered over the little waft his hands on his hips his dark eyes devouring the youngen. He must have been a ghastly sight the livid scare that ran from his forehead diagonally to his cheek just missing the corner of his eyes. His head shaven and his dark hazel eyes intense unblinking. There was a power to him that was indeed truely frightening.

"A stowaway come to take free passage without paying?"

His voice thundered.

Wynter heard the thud of the steps as someone stomped into the room, and she held her breath, but when the door was roughly pulled open she fell into a heap on the floor and stared up at the scariest man she had ever seen.

She gulped as he looked her over, his eye raking over her body. She huffed and rolled away from him. She winced at his thunderous voice.

"A stowaway come to take free passage without paying?"

At this she stood and put her hands on her hips imperiously. "I did not pay good sir simply because your ship is barely sea worthy! But if you must.." She reached into her cleavage and pulled out a coin tossing it at him. "I require use of your cabin and will expect that my safety will be seen too. Furthermore!" She tossed one more gold coin at him. "I will not be yelled at. And where is our next port?"

She tapped her little foot as she waited impatiently for him to answer.

At first glance Captain Goodman took the waif to be some sniveling street urchin trying to escape the desperation of poverty. It would have been so much better for Wynter if she had not shattered it by rising in all her righteous indignation, hands imperiously on her hips and speaking to the Master of the Chastened Maiden as if he where some lackey. Miles Goodman's fists knotted and he was about to strike the arrogant lad when Wynter made her second mistake in that many minutes by reaching into her cleavage and pulled out a coin tossing it at him, drawing the Captain's attention to the fact it was not a laid but a Lass that stood before.

"I require use of your cabin and will expect that my safety will be seen too. Furthermore!" She tossed one more gold coin at him. "I will not be yelled at. And where is our next port?"

She tapped her little foot as she waited impatiently for him to answer.

Goodman neatly picked the toss coin from the air and his eyes now began to evaluate the firry little redhead in a whole new light. His gaze was bold as if mentally stripping her and he took no pains to hide it from her.

"I fear to secure your passage Miss will require quite a different coin."

There was a dark sinister quality to Miles' voice and a darker hunger in his eyes.

"Strip girl I want to see if you have the goods to pay for your passage."

"Strip girl I want to see if you have the goods to pay for your passage."

These words felt like a slap to the face for Wynter who was used to getting her way with those who were beneath her. She stared openly at the captain for a moment, before stalking forward and slapping him soundly. The smack reverberating around the small room.

Wynter glared up at the man, and didn't back down. She pointed her chin upward, crossing her arms over her chest. "You will not talk to me that way. You have your coin, be gone."

He scared her a little, but she dared not show him that. Instead she just glared at him with disdain, hoping that would stop him in his tracks.

CRACK

Like the sting of a mosquito and nothing more the proud little beauty's palm stung Captain Miles Goodman's cheek. the little redheaded firebrand Stood there with the imperious airs of the of a wealthy and spoiled brat.

"You will not talk to me that way. You have your coin, be gone."

CRACK

The back of Goodman's hand struck with the suddenness of lighting knocking the proud little beauty to the floor. She lay there with the blazing print of his hand hot an crimson on her flawless cheek.

"You are not Mistress here girl, your nothing but a stowaway, your only value is in what pleasure I can derive form your supple young body."

He towered over her, his form rippling with a dark power.

"MR. Caswell attend me."

Goodman's voice had the power in it to be heard over a gale and at his summons the first mate of the Chastened Maiden came on the run. A wicked smile bowed his lips as the dark bronze Lascar saw the redheaded beauty sprawled at his Captain's feet.

Aye Captain.

the Lascar quickly replied touching thumb and fore finger to his cap in salute.

" A stowaway MR. Caswell ."

Aye Captain.

Goodman turned his attention once more to Wynter.

" I shall give you one more chance girl.....STRIP!"

The smack from the big man in front of her sent Wynter flying across the floor. She laid there in shock, not quite believing that she had been told no. It was the first time in her life, she whimpered against the wood floor and turned to look at the men now standing over her.

" I shall give you one more chance girl.....STRIP!"

These words shook her, and she thought for a minute about aceeding to the will of the man. But she refused to give that easily. Wynter held her cheek as she stood and stared defiantly at the men.

"I will be no man's whore. Nor will I comply to your heavy handed orders you villainous knave." She turned on her heel, and walked further into the room, standing away from the two men while she glared at them.

The firry little beauty whimpered as she lay there on the hard oaken deck her eyes wide with disbelief, that he had actually struck her. Her eyes grew wide as The Captain repeated his demand. Wynter's had went to her cheek , Goodman could see that she was teetering on the edge almost ready to accede to his demand. Then there was a flash of firry defiance in those stunning eyes.

"I will be no man's whore. Nor will I comply to your heavy handed orders you villainous knave."

The little tigress Rose to her full height her backbone stiffened by her foolish pride. Then Wynter made a critical mistake as she spun on her heel turning her back on the two hulking brutes obliviously blissfully ignorant of the true danger she was in. Captain Miles Goodman's Fingers cruelly entwined in the girl's tawny tresses his other hand nimbly catching her dainty wrist and bending the girl's arm back till tears of agony stained her cheeks.

" MR Caswell muster the crew in the well deck."

Aye Sir!"

there was no mistaking the look of dark pleasure in the man's eyes as they raked over Wynter's supple young body and the tip of his tongue slid across his lips.

"All hands to quarters."

The thundering of running feet beat the decks of The Chastened Maiden as the crew assembled for quarters.

Goodman brought the struggling beauty up on to the quarter deck and held her so the crew could see her. They looked on her with ravenous eyes as a hushed mummer rippled trough them. Its a girl.

"Last chance girl strip here and now for me or I shall let them do it for you."

Wynter struggled in the captains arms as she was dragged to the deck; she stopped as she took in the twenty or thirty pairs of hungry eyes that roved up and down her body. She swallowed deeply and whimpered, looking up at the captain with pleading eyes. She felt exposed already, and she was still wearing her clothes!

She wanted to crawl into a hole and hide from the men around her. She took a deep breath, and with the captain’s hand still knotted in her hair she removed the trousers and shirt she was wearing. She unwrapped her bound breasts and stood there for a moment staring at the ground, before finding her spine and turning in the captain’s grip she punched him in the jaw. Hard, she could tell too, since she had been taught boxing from her cook. She hissed under her breath.

“I have been dressing in front of strangers my whole life! Do you think a bunch of scalawags scare me?” She glared at him, her nakedness forgotten.

Wynter struggled in the captain’s arms as she was dragged to the deck. Goodman’s words striking her like a fist as the men in the well deck moisten their lips praying the proud little redhead would defy the Captain. They knew he would throw her to them if she did not obey and every man jack of them wanted to get their hands on the young beauty. They did not bother to hide their lust, the girl had no place to run to.

Wynter swallowed deeply and whimpered, looking up at the captain with pleading eyes.

Goodman’s look was cold and dead and left no doubt that he would do exactly as he had said. The girl turned as red as her hair as she blushed. She took a deep breath, and with the captain’s hand still knotted in her hair the petulant young beauty tugged loose the belt that held her trousers closed. The material slid down her shapely legs to pool around her trim little ankles. Goodman loved how Wynter’s maidenly blushed deepened as her shirt slipped from her shoulders to flutter to the deck to join her trousers. The girl turned the most delightful shade of crimson as she unbound her breasts to stand before Captain and crew.

It was then that Wynter’s courage seemed to return and what little judgment she had displayed fled from her little red head as she struck Goodman with a well placed punch to his jaw.

“I have been dressing in front of strangers my whole life! Do you think a bunch of scalawags scare me?” She glared at him, her nakedness forgotten.

The little spitfire hissed under her breath. There was an audible gasp from the assembled crew as the murmured.

”She struck the Captain that’s flogging offense, hell he could hang her and no court would accuse him of nothen but doen his duty.”

The blow had done no real damage as Wynter was a slip of a girl when all was said and done. Goodman, his fingers still knotted in her flaming tresses flung The proud little beauty across the quarter deck to land sprawled at Mr. Caswell’s and the Bowsaine’s

“Mr. Caswell String the little wildcat up spread-eagled Bowsaine bring me a cat-of-nine tails…………..You my dear will learn who is Master hear and who WILL SERVE AT MY PLEASURE!”

The last few words nearly spit at he girl. Goodman’s face was contorted by rage and for the first time in her spoiled young life Wynter was in real trouble , trouble her wealth and staion could not saver from. Drity eager hands grabbed her and passed her supple young body down to the well deck in a blink of an eye her dainty wrists where bound by a heavey line. Her legs painfully pulled apart and lashed spread wide to a spar. The heaved on the line stretching Wynter’s supple young body as tight as a bow string Leaving her hung spread eagled her body vulnerable and open.

“ Mr. Caswell rip those panties from the little wildcat.”

The last vestige of modesty was ripped from Wynter and she hung there naked as the day she had been born their eyes feasting on her youthful naked perfection. It was then that the girl saw Goodman and for the first time in her young life the Cat-of- nine tales.

Wynter went flying across the deck, landing with a thump on the wood. She could hardly believe her ears as she heard the captains orders. She fought against the men that held her up and bound her arms and legs. Her hair loose and unbound flew around her head as she struggled against them and the ropes.

"You can't do this! You're crazy! You will be hunted down and killed for this! How dare you!" The words leapt from her throat, and when she was stripped of the last of her clothing she growled, deep in her throat, her eyes flashing with the hatred for no other man on this ship than the captain. She glared at him, her green eyes flashing. That she was exposed to the men on deck, she could have cared less, all Wynter noticed was his movements, wanting him dead. She would take his life for this lesson, Wynter swore to that under her breath.

When the cat o'nine was placed in the captains large rough hands and he looked at her with a wicked smile, she wilted slightly, but she refused to show him any fear. She held her chest out in defiance, and spoke out, her voice easily heard over the lap of the water on the side of ship.

"I will never call you master."

” You can't do this! You're crazy! You will be hunted down and killed for this! How dare you!"

Winter wailed as she was roughly stripped and bound. Like the spoiled child of wealth and privilege that she was. Goodman saw the hatred in those flashing emerald eyes. He knew if she had the opportunity she would kill him in a heart beat. He saw the resolve in those stunning green eyes as she spat at him.


"I will never call you master."


His voice was dark, rich and so very sensual as he whispered.


“Are you so very sure my proud young Miss?.”

The stray hairs at the nape of Wynter’s deck danced in his hot moist breath. He draped the cat over her shoulder and slowly drew it forward the supple leather fingers of the cat sensual caressed Wynter’s soft supple skin cascaded over her shoulder , down across her proud young breast. A single leather strands of the cat clung to her nipple for a moment before slithering down across the girl’s belly. Goodman stepped back his dark fathomless eyes held hers he gave his wrist a little flick and the sinuous leather tongues of the cat-of-nine tales slithered to life anxious to taste the supple perfection of Wynter’s flawless young body.

CRACK

Those sinuous strands of leather curled around Wynter’s trim little waist , leathery tongues firry licking at her breasts and nipples.

CRACK, CRACK, CRACK

The cat licked at the girl’s flawless perfection. Then Goodman began to mingle the sensual caress of the supple leather with the seductive firry kiss of the cat. Wynter never knew which would be the next to come.

The captains confident words in her ear left Wynter breathless. And the first fiery kiss of the supple leather on her skin, made her gasp and arch in pain. The first few strikes to her unmarred skin, so soft, so untouched by something so harsh. She clung to her bonds, crying out. Her eyes squeezed shut and her tears ran freely down her pale cheeks.

But she didn't call for mercy. She didn't beg him to stop, though the words hung onto the tip of her tongue. She refused. She would not bend to his will, though the cat teased her strength, and enticed her to give in to him. She knew that one word would stop him, but that word remained stuck in her chest. Wynter would not call him Master.

The strikes were relentless, and for some reason, they calmed Wynter, who no longer fought in her bounds but accepted each kiss of the cat with a small whimper, her eyes closed to the men around her, her body glowing red with the welts. She had nothing to say, as she became lost in the sensations that the captain delivered to her body. Her loose red hair covering her face as she leaned forward and accepted what was happening, her pain melting away. The most curious part of this, and the realization for Wynter was a fleeting one, was that she was wet, she could feel it between her legs as the air cooled her there. But the next flick of the cat erased this idea from her and she whimpered at it's sting.

There was a fierce pride to the bound little beauty. The crew devoured her naked perfection with dark lustful eyes. They laughed with delight as the cat curled around firry little beauty, and its stinging kiss Made her gasp and arch in pain. The first few strikes to her unmarred skin, so soft, so untouched by something so harsh. She clung to her bonds, crying out. Her eyes squeezed shut and her tears ran freely down her pale cheeks. There was a dark beauty to the way the girl twisted and strained against her bonds one moment then clung to them for support the next as her pride fought with her common sense. And she refused to beg, to let that one word that was on the tip of her tongue, that one word that could deliver her from the torment that racked both her body and soul.

Goodman watched the changed that came over the firry beauty as the cat curled around her, its leathery fingers sensually caressing her soft flawless skin. The cat’s seductively searing kisses lick so intimately Wynter’s breasts, nipples and tawny little pussy. Soon the Master of the The Chastened Maiden caught the unmistakable and oh so intoxicating fragrance of the hapless little beauty’s arousal. He saw the deceptive calm that came over the girl and in that moment he saw her Achilles’ heel, her hungering treacherous little body that had a dark sinful hunger, a hunger that was forbidden.

Goodman was a master with the lash, a consummate artist, who now used his skill to give the girl’s treacherous body what it wanted. The caresses of the leather where now more sensual, more erotic, as they fondled every inch of her gorgeous young body from her breasts to her thighs and calves. He mingled those sensually erotic caresses with searing stinging kiss that where as intimate as any lover’s kiss. He played her supple young body as if it was a fine instrument and he was the master of it. He drove the bound young beauty to the edge of that dark abyss where she could almost grasp that dark sinfully forbidden pleasure. He let her titter on the brink of the abyss but would not grant her body the dark release it craved. Only one simple word , one little humiliating act would grant her what her body now craved. The word Master the act, To Beg for what she needed release.

With every small flick of his strong wrist, Wynter flinched her body aflame with desire and pain, her eyes shut, so that she couldn't see the joy in his eyes as he watched the tip of the cat caress her, she closed her eyes so that she could hide from the way she was feeling.

She cried out, not from the sting of the cat, but because she was fighting with herself. She bit back a plea for the sensations to stop. She stopped herself from feeling anything. She hung in her bonds, whimpering slightly from the action of the men. She might no longer fear it, but neither was she ready to call him her master.

It was a pleasure to watch this firry proud beauty fight the sensations that where ripping through her treacherous young body. Her little whimpers where music to his ears the way she pulled and jerked as her bounds then clung to them for support. Her eyes shut tightly closed her little nosed scrunched up as she tried to fight back the growing sensations that threatened to sweet her away in a tidal wave of sinfully dark forbidden pleasure.

Good man could see the struggle within this proud beauty. She was a woman of the upper classes, she was born to wealth and leisure , a precious gym kept in a bejeweled prison. Pampered young ladies did not become aroused by being forced to strip in front of rude strangers, nor did they crave the sensual caress of leather or its stinking firry kiss. Let the shameful proof of her dark fall from grace glistened on the soft pink folds of her labia. The pearly drops of her shameful arousal glistened on her inner thighs for these dogs to see. The captain looped the cat around Wynter’s neck and drew her to with an inch of his face.
His voice was a low sensual whisper for only her to hear.

“You know what you must do My proud young beauty. If you continue in your stubborn pride I shall give you to the crew as a play toy the choice is yours.”

He let his words sink in. Wynter has faced with either becoming the Captain’s concubine or the crew’s slut and whore.

He kept making her choose. And the voice in her ear, growling her into submission was a difficult one to avoid. She cried out with her frustration. Wynter didn't want to be the play-thing of a callous degenerate captain. Neither did she want any of these disgusting men to touch her. The game then became one of odds. The crew or the captain?

Her mind was a jumble of thoughts, and she had to fight hard against slipping away from the pain, it was overwhelming her senses, and so was her lust. Wynter had never not gotten her way, it was a new sensation to her.

Then he struck her again, and her fight was gone. She clutched to her bonds, her body bending, as she flung her head back and screamed. When the strike melted into pleasure, and her whimpers subsided, she hung her head, letting the fiery red locks cover her face, the tears streaming over her cheeks, the soft taste of tears on her lips as she licked them. A soft word falling from her mouth, so low she didn't know if she would be heard over the din of the sea gulls above or the lapping of the water against the wooden hull.

"Master" With the one word, she slumped against the ropes that held her her will for the moment extinguished.

There was an ominous silence that lingered between Goodman and the firry young beauty as she hung clinging to her bounds for support. Her sweet scream dying on the wind as his devil’s choice awaited her answer. One look into his dark hazel eyes told Wynter’s that now was the moment of truth that she held her fate in her own hands. The hapless young beauty’s whimpers subsided, she hung her head, letting the fiery red locks cover her face, the tears streaming over her cheeks. The tip of her little pink tongue darted from her sweet ripe lips to sensually taste her own tears. Then a single soft word fell from her sweep ripe lips, a word that sealed her fate whispered so low so sensually her will bend to his in submission, yielded yet not broken.

” Master"

With the one word, she slumped against the ropes that held her, her will for the moment extinguished.

“Yes my pet. ”

He softly whispered his voice a sensual caress. Goodman drew her lips to his with the cat looped around Wynter’s slender neck. His mouth claimed hers in a seductively sensual kiss. Her Master’s rough calloused hands caressed her soft silken skin. They knowingly and intimately explored her supple young body. His finger easily slipped with in the chaste folds of her body, rolled her throbbing little clit under the pad of that questing finger. Before it slipped within the tight confines of the girl’s body. Slowly a wicked roughish smiled bowed the Captain’s lips.

“How many lovers have you taken my proud young beauty?”

Goodman already knew the answer to his question it lay beneath the tip of his finger. One more humiliation for the naked beauty one more little prick to her pride.

“Yes my pet. ”

The words sent a shock through her system, tingles up her spine, the simple words wading through the morass that was her mind, and she began to try and ascertain his meaning behind these words. But his kiss wiped all thought from her mind, but she trembled still. The rope that held her still also held her safe. She couldn't be blamed for feeling this way, for feeling, for feeling taken, claimed, and for being terrified. She trembled beneath his touch, and his kiss.

“How many lovers have you taken my proud young beauty?”

Somehow, these words made it through. Her eyes snapped open to search his face. Wynter was stunned at the boldness of the question though she knew that this was a ridiculous thought. His hand began to delve into her folds and she whimpered lightly. She wanted to scream at him, and thrash in these bindings, to fight him again, to feel his stubbled chin under her soft hand as she slapped him, but...

"I have known no men, Master."

Her own words, meekly whimpered, shamed her and she fell silent. How she wanted to crawl away and hide, but her wrists remained bound to the ship to which she now belonged.

Captain Miles Goodman felt the little redheaded beauty tremble as his kiss deepened. IT seemed she almost arched her body to his. It was if that simple word Master had somehow freed her. His dark eyes sparkled when this firry young beauty demurely answered his bold question.

"I have known no men, Master."

Goodman had not missed the momentary flare of Wynter’s pride, the hesitation , nor had he missed the maidenly crimson blush that turned her the most delightful shade of pink from the tip of her nose to the tips of her toes. Excited murmurings seem to spread through the crew their eyes hungering with lust for the bound beauty. If she cared to look Wynter would see their hands opening and closing into tight fists as they leaned closer to get a better look at her chaste young body.

Goodman let the crew close in a little closer to the bound young beauty. He wanted Wynter to become acutely aware that the only thing that stood between her and this rabble and their dark lust was her Master.As he silently let the crew make his point he let his finger tease and toy with the little virgin. He let his finger enkindle in her innocent young body the first stirrings of carnal pleasure. A pleasure he knew would soon have her bucking and thrashing against her bounds in dark longing now that she had tasted that pleasure under the lash.

“Before the sun set this day my sweet pet you will take a lover….”

Goodman paused letting his words strike home. Wynter was not being given a choice of taking a lover or not his words had made that quite clear.


“………The only question pet is how many. Shall you give yourself to me here on the quarter deck or to them.”

He swept his arm out over the crew to let Wynter know it was only a matter of degree how cruel she would be used.

She could feel their eyes on her, their hungry eyes. She could swear that over the lap of the water on the wood she could hear the lips licked in anticipation, their clenched fists, the way their knuckles cracked. She could feel the heat of the barely contained lust of their breeches. The crew ate her hungerily with their eyes, each imagining some sort of act with her, that she couldn't even begin to fathom.

That it was bad luck for a woman to be on a ship was an understatement, it was not bad luck for the men, for the woman however, it was perhaps the worst luck of her chaste young life.

“Before the sun set this day my sweet pet you will take a lover….”

Wynter gasped aloud at his words, and tried to deny his power over her, but she couldn't deny him. She knew it, could feel the pull of his power, his voice, his strength over her. She trembled and could only look up at him through her lashes shyly as he continued, though in the pit of her stomach she knew what he was going to say. And it was going to kill her.. she would rather have the skin flayed from her bones than to hear the next part of this statement.

“………The only question pet is how many. Shall you give yourself to me here on the quarter deck or to them.”

Wynter whimpered. She knew again he was forcing her to choose, to show him that he had dominance over her. That the choices she made were the ones that he presented to her. She knew without a doubt if she fought him, she would be thrown to the hungry wolves around her. She felt.. she was.. she was terrified of making the wrong choice.

Would choosing him be any worse than letting each of them fill her? That she was craving his touch was evident, he could feel it beneath his fingertip. She knew her hesitation would displease him, but that her submission would not go unnoticed. Her pride welled up, she wanted to scream to the heavens that she was more than a captains plaything. But the truth was, that in this moment, with the setting sun on her back, she was nothing more than his toy. She was smart enough to realize it.

Leaning forward so that her words were unheard by the sailors, she whispered to him.

"Please Sir, use me as you wish." Once the words were out of her mouth, she sagged completely in the ropes, they were the only thing holding her upright.

Wynter’s soft little whimper, the shattering look of defeat in those stunning proud eyes pleased Goodman. He saw the fierce pride flare, her eyes sparking with it. A wry smile bowed the man’s lips as the bound naked beauty leaned forward so that her words were unheard by the sailors, she whispered to him.

"Please Sir, use me as you wish."
With those simple words the stunning young redhead bowed to her fate. Deserted by the pride that had buoyed her during her trails she sagged completely in the ropes, they were the only thing holding her upright. He stepped forward and releasing Wynter’s form her bounds. He gathered her frail supple body into his arms. He let her feel his physical strength as he held her close to him. His dark eyes captured hers and he let this striking young beauty see the inner strength that was his core. A strength as hard as flint, a strength of will that would not be denied.

The sea breeze played with Wynter’s silken tresses, the suns golden rays caressed her copper tresses as Goodman let her slide down his body till the spent young beauty was kneeling on the ships oaken decks. He stepped back from her leaving her their her ravishing young body bathed in the warmth of the sun’s light as if the heavens had turned a light upon her. Then he called to her.

Come to me pet! Come to me on your hands and knees and let all who see you know you are mine...

Slowly this cruel giant began to prepare himself to take her to claim her chaste young body before this scum, this rabble. To take that precious jewel she had so jealously guarded. The gift only her beloved should have claimed... Her tormentor, this devil incarnate, that had awoken her treacherous young body stood before her and waited for her to crawl to him like the pet he had named her. In that moment the fully reality of her choice came home to her for it was clear he meant to take her with the crew watching her latest humiliation as she truly became the Captain’s Pet.

She clung to him when he released her from her bonds. She drew strength from his nearness, his strength, beneath the suitcoat she could feel his iron resolve and as much as it scared her, it also fascinated her.

When he set her on the sun soaked deck, she curled into her self, letting the men see her vulnerability, she knew that it made her look weak but she didn't care. All she wanted was for this part to be over, for her will to be extinguished, to be consumed by his need and want for her. Her tresses fanned out around her head, and she lay there weakly, testing her muscles, and finding that she wasn't as broken as she had thought. That she wanted to be in his arms again that much was true, but physically he hadn't broken her, and then as she was lost in her thoughts, she heard his voice again.

Come to me pet! Come to me on your hands and knees and let all who see you know you are mine...

He sounded almost excited, like she was a shiny new plaything and he couldn't wait. It made her feel good, she liked the idea of being his, and for some reason that made her proud. She looked across the deck at him, taking him in for the man he was. His strength so obvious under the stretch of his coat, his long black hair streaked with grey, while other men it would make look old, it only served to make him look dignified. His hands out to her, so large and rough, though she knew from his earlier caress they could be soft too.

"Yes Sir"

She numbly got up to kneeling, letting the blood return to her head slowly. She looked up at him, and only him. All of the rabble she ignored, though she felt their unslaked lust upon her form as she crawled to her master. They were no longer of any importance, only he was. When she crawled to his side and kneeled next to him, she could feel the pride and lust washing through him also. It made her smile, even as she lowered her eyes.

Miles Goodman watched as Wynter lay on the sun soaked deck. She was a magnificent creature. Her body so young soft and suppl her eyes so full of fire and life. He was pleased as he saw the little smile of pride tug and the corners of her sweet ripe lips.
Yes Sir

Wynter’s voice a soft husky, sensual whisper. Slowly she came to her hands and knees and came to him. Her movements’ fluid, graceful and so very sensual Wynter moved with the seductive grace of a feline. Not little household tabby, but like an untamed wildcat. When she crawled to his side and kneeled next to him, she could feel the pride and lust washing through him also. It made her smile, even as she lowered her eyes. The captain let his fingers run through his little pet’s tawny copper tresses. Let it drip from his finger tips as if it were living silken fire.

“Mr. Caswell my coat.”

His 1st mate took his coat. Goodman loosened the front of his breeches. He lifted Wynter’s chin so she was faced with his iron cored manhood, with the lust for her that smoldered in his dark eyes. There was a power in his body, and a power of will in those dark eyes that told the young beauty he was use to command and to being obeyed.

“On your hands and knees pet I wish to take you here and now.”

The rabble leaned closer knowing if the proud beauty rebelled they would have her within the hour.

Wynter looked up at him, his hard manhood rubbed against her soft cheek. She was slightly confused at his directions. She looked down at her naked form kneeling on the deck, she was on all fours. She didn't know what he wanted.

She was frightened now, trembling because she didn't understand what he asked for. She looked at the men surrounding her, their slimy tongues darting out to lick their sea-salt dried lips, their rough beards, she was disgusted, and didn't know what to do.

Whimpering she looked to her new master for guidance, what did he want from her? She knew not the ways of men and women and this scared her. She didn't know what he was asking for. She threw herself against his leg and clung to him, trembling, hoping against hope that he knew she wasn't being disobedient, she needed his help!