An Arrangement

"Show me how you usually do that and help me to do it." said Fira,lifting her robes for better access. "But, I'm not swallowing them, that sounded painful on the way out." she said.
 
Edmund made a face. "We do what's neccessary, but I wouldn't wish that kind of discomfort on you. I usually have some oil, but I lost it somewhere during the escape. Hold still."

He popped the packet into his mouth and then reached a hand between Fira's thighs. 'A little of Venus's honey will serve better than spit,' he reasoned as he caressed Fira's flower, coaxing her nectar from her. It was true, but it was also an excuse. The sight of Fira's naked form had caused him to go rigid with lust and he was realizing that this was something new. Usually his desires for a woman faded over time, but Fira...

He pushed the thoughts aside for another time and simply enjoyed the sight and the feel of her. He couldn't avoid the feeling of satisfaction that arose from knowing her secret softness was his, and his alone for the taking. He looked around and found none of the crew watching, but he was certain they must be; the dhow was fairly small and there wasn't a tremendous amount of privacy.

His finger slipped inside her, inexorably drawn in and Fira moved beneath him. "As soon as we find a little more privacy my darling whore," he promised as he slowly withdrew it. Even more slowly he placed his finger against her anus and gently inserted it. She jumped and he fancied he knew her well enough to know that this was not lust, but discomfort, fear.

"Shh... Easy. No pain and over in just a moment. Hold still," he both reassured and ordered.

His finger slowly rotated, coating her passageway with lubricant and gently massaging the muscle at her opening, spreading it as he would her flower.

'This is as relaxed as she's going to get,' he decided and moved quickly. He withdrew his finger most of the way, laid the thin, saliva-coated package against it, and then inserted them both. He carefully extricated his finger and pulled her dress back to cover her. His clean hand pulled her close and he kissed her ear as she softly shook against him.

"Good girl," he assured her. "Plain to see you never went to a public school," he joked.
 
This was true trust. Fira had ever allowed anyone near her anus since....that fateful day so long ago...yet she offered herself with full belief that he would never take advantage of her trust in this way and waited as he shoved the package into her most private and best guarded hole. She was shaking when it was all over, near to tears and greatful as he held her close when it was all finished. His joke held no humor for her as she struggled to regain her composure. "That's not funny." she breathed against him. "I am what I am due to being too trusting and innocent with that particular hole, never suspecting any harm could ever be done to me in church, not by a servant of God..." she shivered again at the frightful memory and had to force herself to take a deep breath and calm down. "...but, that's over now."
 
"Yes," Edmund agreed, "that's over now. I could spend the rest of my life taking pleasure from your body and never need to go near your arsehole once."

He looked around the dhow and yawned spectacularly.

"Find a place to lie down," he said. "I'm exhausted and you look to be the closest thing to a pillow. I'll wash my hand and be back in a moment."
 
Fira nodded and found a place near a long plank to lie against. The boards were hard and smelled of fish but she hoped the journey would not be long. Edmund curled up using her as a pillow and she felt contentment knowing they were partners in this endeavor.
 
The sound of the swivel gun was what woke Edmund, but the first thing he heard were screams; both of pain and rage. He rolled to his feet and stood, banging his head on the low ceiling hard enough to make bright spots appear before his eyes. He shook his head and saw a man with a sword held low entering their space. He dove for the sword, grasping the man's sword wrist with his hands and driving him back onto the main deck with his body. He glimpsed another two men ducking into the space.

"Fira!" he yelled, and attempted to follow. But the attacker swung the sword at him and Edmund was forced to react, stepping into the blow and trying to use it's force to carry the man into a throw. It worked, in a fashion; the man grabbed Edmund's undershirt and they both went careening into the gunwale, and then over the side.

In the dark water the man had apparently dropped his sword and clawed at Edmund as if he was drowning, which he might have been. Edmund punched the man in the throat and forced his head under the water. For two terrible minutes they thrashed in the water and then, slowly, the man died. Edmund released the body and turned about, trying to find the ship. He spotted it, no more than ten yards away, and began to stroke for it even as his lungs painfully demanded air and his muscles trembled with exhaustion.

Another explosion sounded before he was able to reach the ship and haul himself up onto the deck. He looked around at the mess and saw at least four corpses.

"Fira," he gasped, and dashed into the covered space at the stern. His coat was there, and another body with a knife sticking out of him, but of Fira there was no sign. He ran back out onto the main deck and began examining the corpses. Even in his frantic state, habit took over. A sword scooped off the deck was held to the throat of each and he automatically picked up an unused death-blossom still gripped in the hand of a man who'd died before he'd had a chance to use it.

"Fira?" he demanded of one of the crew.

<Your wife? They took her,> the man replied. <Fucking Arabs! Coffee's too much work to steal, so they wait until we're headed home and try to take our profit instead.>

<Pursue them,> Edmund ordered.

<Follow? You're mad. Besides the master's dead,> the man said.

<Who's in charge?> Edmund demanded of the crew in general.

<I am,> one responded. <Now shut up so we can get moving. Sometimes they hunt in pairs.>

<Follow them,> Edmund ordered.

<Shut u..> the man's response was choked off by the cloud of darts that struck his face. Edmund idly noted that Arab pirates seemed to prefer cluster shot to the larger darts used in European conflicts.

<Who's in charge?> he demanded of the crew, his purloined sword held in front of him.

<I am,> replied another. <You going to kill me if I tell you we need half an hour to get under way?>

<Are you going to pursue them?> Edmund asked.

<Yes. We'll never catch them, though. They're faster, built for raiding, not trading. They'll be in their harbor two, three hours before we can get there.>

<How long to get there?>

The man shrugged. <These conditons hold? Sixteen, seventeen hours.>

'Darkness,' Edmund thought. 'With Fira on board... They'll want to take some time and enjoy her, damnit! They'll spend the night aboard and sell her in the morning.'

<Fast as you can, then,> Edmund ordered. <Take us straight to the harbor. How can I help?>
 
Darkness...

...darkness, discomfort, and the smell of rotten potatoes and cheap alcohol...

...Firanzin had been dragged from Edmund, hit hard in the mouth as she'd tried to yell out, and immediately a sack-cloth bag was shoved over her head and tied shut. She realized that she was still wearing that bag and they had likely taken her to their ship's cargo hold, hence the smell of potatoes and alcohol.

Her wrisits were bound tightly behind her, each ankle bound uncomfortably to a beam at a height of almost her shoulders and she sat propped against a corner as each leg was bound spread wide, her delicates on display. There was no sound of anyone nearby but she heard a lot of movement in the boards creakingn above her and realized that based on the way they had her tied up they would not be away for long...she shivered in the darkness at the realization that she'd likely spend the night as the sport of a shipful of pirates.
 
>What are you babbling about?< Ka'im demanded.

>Yellow hair, Ka'im,< Afeef replied. >She has yellow hair, even between her legs,< the crewman avowed.

>God is great,< Ka'im replied. >The Sheikh will pay a good price for her, then. As much or more than we might have made had we succeeded in taking the abdaat ship.<

'Probably not,' he thought to himself privately, 'but if it keeps them from slitting my throat... Who knew the abdaat would have their own gun?'

>But only if we don't damage her,< he said and quickly added >while we are enjoying her.< The darkening looks of his crewmen faded as they realized he was simply counseling restraint, not ordering abstinence.

>Let's put some distance behind us, first. It will be dark when we make the harbor, we can spend a night enjoying her and then take her to the kassr to sell to the Sheik.<

It was approaching dawn by the time Ka'im was satisfied they were not being pursued. He took the opportunity to take a lantern below and inspect the woman. The chuckle that rose in his chest could not be contained; the crew had plainly anticipated their sport and had tied the woman ready for use. His eyes were drawn to the golden thatch between her thighs and, a moment later, so was his hand. He fondled the fine down and the tender flesh that lurked within it.

'She might actually be worth more than the abdaat treasure,' he wondered quietly.
 
Fira heard a noise, someone was coming down into the hold. She saw the glow of a lantern nbut not much else with the sack still covering her head, making her face sweat with her own breath. She grew more uneasy as she knew she was being looked at and jumped, writhing to no avail against her restraints as a hand petted her between the legs and began to invade her flower with reachiing fingers. She shouted curses at him and heard laughter.
 
Ka'im laughed as she struggled against the bonds and shouted angrily at him.

>Soon,< he promised her, >we'll give you a gag for that mouth.< He gave her sex a last quick pat and then went back up on deck. Every eye was fixed upon him.

>There's only the one and we need to keep the ship crewed in any case. Two at a time and I'll go last since I never saw the damned gun.<

The men quickly paired off, tossing fingers to determine the order. This was followed by a flurry of bids and negotiations as some winners sold their spots to the highest bidder. In a remarkably short time they had sorted matters out and Afeef and Masruq bounded down the stairs.

>No damage!< Ka'im called after them.


>Which end do you want first?< Afeef asked.

>Tail, of course. The head is dangerous until you get them broken in,< Masruq explained.

Afeef laughed. >You just don't know how to handle women, Masruq. Watch and learn.<

He walked over to the woman and pulled the sack off her head. He smiled at her in his gap-toothed fashion and pulled out his utility knife. It was short and crude and had a little curve to it. He demonstrated the sharpness of it by easily cutting the clothing off the woman. Pulling his cock out of his pants, he placed the edge of the knife against her mouth, then he tapped one of her nipples. He snapped his teeth shut and then mimed cutting the nipple off. After a moment, he mimed cutting the other nipple off. Resting the knife against her breast, he brought his semi-erect cock to her face.
 
Fira got the message easily enough. With a grimace of distaste at this unwashed piece of flesh being forced into her mouth, she slowly opened to accept it, a tear trailing down her face as she thought of Edmund. Had they killed him? If he was alive he would be furious over this.He wanted her all for himself, she wanted that too. Why was it so difficult to keep her body from harm? she wondered. Soon pressure against her pussy told her the other one wasn't there simply to watch.
 
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>See?< Afeef said as his free hand grabbed the blonde hair and he began to pump his hips, forcing his cock deeper into her mouth, and throat, with each thrust.

Masruq wasn't paying any particular attention to his comrade, however. He was far too busy with his own pleasure. Ragged pants around his ankles, he knelt between her legs. He spit into his hand, rubbing the moisture over the tip of his cock, and then pressed against her. She squirmed a little as he pushed inside her, but he was far too experienced a rapist to let that dissuade him. In truth, he now found it exciting.

>So tight! Are all yellow-hair's this tight or is it just this one?< he wondered.

>You've just never had a woman first,< Afeef joked. >They're slimy and stretched by the time you usually get to them. Dead half the time, too.<

Masruq pointedly ignored the crude jests and began to fuck her in the only way he knew how, pounding as hard and as fast as he could.
 
Fira cried out as many curses as she could at them as she shook with rage, trying so hard to loosen her bonds which was not working very well.
 
Afeef, shouting his pleasure wordlessly to the beams overhead, shot into her throat, his hand mashing her face against his groin. He looked over at Masruq who was roughly kneading her firm breasts and bouncing his pubis against hers. Her frantic sounds made him look down and he realized she couldn't breathe. The rush of power he felt was like a second orgasm and he looked down into her desperate eyes for a long moment before slowly backing her off his cock. He wiped himself clean on her hair.

>That was good, little slave,< he admitted. >I may forgoe your crack for another chance at your throat when next it is my turn.<

She cried out in pain as Masruq, in the throes of his own climax, squeezed her breasts hard.

>No damage!< Afeef chided the man. >Fish brain! They'll have your balls for bait if you visibly bruise her and drop the price.<

Masruq, panting, knelt back on his haunches. >No harm done, see?< He pulled a breast from side to side by the nipple. >She'll be sore, but that won't affect her price,< he promised.

The two men clambered slowly to the stairs and ascended. Afeef gave the woman a last leer and a promising wink.

Not more than a minute later Ghalib and Tariq came bounding down the stairs.

>Tail first!< Tariq cried.

>Curse you,< Ghalib replied, but he didn't slow in his approach.
 
Little did they know Fira had been working at her binds with more success the harder the first two had rocked her with their own intent to pleasure themselves and she had managed to get her left hand free but was feigning still being tied up painfully placing her full body weight upon her lower back as she worked on untying the other wrist behind her back, pulling the length of thin rope taut in preparation for her next set of moves.

The first came close to her face as he taunted her and she used the opportunity to headbutt him, quickly moving her free arms forward, using the rope to strangle the man as she reached at his side for his weapon. She held him that way, staring at hisi companion, both in mutual petrification as she slit the binds on her own ankles with the weapon-bearing hand, then slit the offender at her mercy's throat and pointed the bloody blade at the other.

She knew one word in this foriegn language. It had been said to her over and over as they tied her up and she had figured out it's meaning. >Silence!< she hissed to the scumbag she held at knife-point and with one nod to his dead colleague he saw what she intended to do if he dared to shout for his comrades.
 
<What will you do when we catch them?> the captain asked.

Edmund shrugged. <Get my wife back. Kill as many of them as I can in the doing.>

<Good. Get ready.>

Emund stood and looked ahead of the ship. He saw a lateen sail ahead of them. <How?> he asked.

This time the captain shrugged. <They aren't making the time they should. Something is wrong with their ship. I had thought to bring you to the harbor of Sharm al Sheikh and turn you loose on them, but this changes matters. Vengeance would be nice, but not at the cost of our lives.>

<And I didn't want a pitched battle,> Edmund mused. <Too many of my tricks could get Fira killed.>

He considered the situation for several minutes and then smiled. <Still, some of my tricks won't. Run us right up their stern, Captain.>

***

Ka'im had had a nagging feeling all night long and it was only getting worse. 'The chop,' he realized, 'is all wrong. It should be shallower. Either we aren't where we're supposed to be, or something is very wrong.' He looked about the ship, trying to see if everything was all right. The crew were no help in this matter. As was often the case with pirates, most of the crew weren't actually seamen but were, instead, sea-going thugs. The captain and two other men had been the force that kept the ship sailing and the rest of the crew had helped out as best they could. Mostly they were muscle for boarding ships, though. The two good sailors were gone, swept away by the damnable swivel gun. The remaining crew... instead of sailing the ship they were gathered around Afeef and Masruq, revelling in the re-telling of their rape.

He looked away in exasperation and then swore as he caught sight of the sail behind them. >Whoresons! To your fucking posts! We're pursued.<

The way they all ran to the quarterdeck to see for themselves was entirely too predictable. Ka'im slapped and kicked them back towards the maindeck. >Make ready, you fools! Plain to see they mean to board us.<

>Why?< Afeef wondered. >The abdaat run and fight only when they must.<

>Perhaps we made them mad or maybe that yellow-hair is worth something to them,< Ka'im retorted. >I don't know and I don't care. If they want a fight then let them bring their treasure closer to Sharm al Sheik.<

>I'll get the yellow-hair,< Afeef declared. >We can tie her to the mast and see if they want sweep our deck with shot when it will kill her.< 'And I can fuck her in their sight to taunt them,' he thought but did not say. He ran to the steps and ducked down and then, just as quickly, back up.

>She's loose!< he yelled. >Ghalib is dead and she's got a knife to Tariq.<

>Too bad for them,< Ka'im declared. >Leave her! We'll deal with her at our leisure after we see off the abdaat.< 'Or we'll be dead and it won't matter'.

***

<Dragging bodies,> the captain declared.

Edmund was too busy putting the last fuse in place to care much about cryptic comments. So, although he heard the statement, he didn't understand it and didn't waste any time trying to. He turned to the man squatting next to him with the shuttered lantern.

<When I give the word, you light the fuses. This one first,> he emphasized.

The man returned his look with wide eyes. Three of the fuses were for little bombs tucked into the sash Edmund had tied about his waist. Though he said nothing, plainly he thought Edmund was mad. Edmund grinned at him, for humor was his manner of dealing with fear.

<They're only little bombs,> he said cheerfully.

The man made no response.

The captain called out something in Ge'ez and then in Burgundian, <Take cover!>

A booming sound, followed by the malignant buzz of shot and the rattling and ripping sounds that slowly trailed off, announced that the pirates had fired their own gun. No one on the ship appeared to be hurt, though. They were all under cover and weren't attempting to bring their own swivel gun into play. The higher stern of the pirate ship screened their deck from the light gun. It was loaded and ready to defend the ship, but the plan didn't call for them to use it.

Edmund felt his focus narrowing as the rest of the world became unimportant and his grin lost all trace of humor. When the captain signaled he bellowed <Now!> to the lighter. As the first two fuses were lit Edmund stood and heaved the larger package as far as he could over the stern of the pirate ship. The rope attached to it pulled a second, much smaller, bundle over the stern after it and, finally, a grappling hook.

Edmund pulled the rope until the hook caught on something and then launched himself upwards. The first explosion was fairly small, the second much larger. Each had been a packet of gunpowder wrapped with rope without any of the shrapnel that a normal grenade used. These had not been intended to kill or maim, but to confuse, to buy Edmund the moment he needed to get aboard the ship.

The men gathered at the quarterdeck were still stunned by the explosion in their midst and one of them, apparently braver or smarter than the rest, was nursing the mangled remains of his hand. Edmund simply pushed two of the men overboard and slashed another's throat with his blade. The arterial spray of blood blinded him and he dropped to a knee, quickly tossing the other three bombs at random onto the main deck and then wiping at his face to clear his vision.

"Fira!" he bellowed as he drove the tip of his sword into the face of one of the men charging the quarterdeck.
 
Her head whipped to the ladder above her as she heard her name. It was definitely his voice. "Edmund!" she called, slicing the other one's throat as she moved to the ladder. The two who had been peering down at her hostage situation backed off easily as she climbed the ladder up and stood on the deck, a naked woman covered in other people's blood, her own face bruised where she'd been knocked out, blade in hands. "Edmund!" she called out again, relief instant as she saw him, even despite the danger all around her, she instantly felt better. "You came after me." she said in amazement as she ran to embrace him.
 
Edmund parried a swordblow aimed at Fira and kicked the attacker in the groin.

"Of course I bloody well came for you," Edmund snapped. "You're mine!"

<If you're through killing pirates?> he heard from somewhere behind him. Ahead of him, one of the small bombs went off and everyone flinched; even Fira was shocked enough to leave off her embrace.

"Back to the ship, Fira!" Edmund yelled as he tossed his sword at two attackers and then followed Fira's bloody ass racing towards the stern and the Axxumite ship which had already begun to back away.
 
Edmund tumbled to the deck of the Axxumite ship as the remaining two bomblets went off. The next few minutes were a chaos of nautical exertion punctuated by cries in two foreign languages that neither understood. As the chaos passed, and the two ships grew still farther apart, they found themselves forgotten in the bow, ignored by the crew as they sought to put distance between themselves and the pirates.

Edmund, panting, glanced over at Fira who was just as winded as he was. His eyes took in the matting in her hair and the faint trail of cum on her thighs. They also observed the knife in her hand and the blood that covered an arm and the right side of her body.

'She fought them,' he thought. 'That's all I need to know. So long as she resisted, I can live with anything else.'

He grabbed her ankle and pulled her closer to him, tearing his eyes away from her delightful breasts and looking into her eyes. He searched for the words to express his sentiments, but the post-battle shaking had already begun.

"Good girl," he declared.
 
Fira held on to Edmund, shivering in his arms and holding close to him. She was so relieved to be with the only person who seemed to understand and care about her. "Edmund..." she said, faltering to come up with the rest of what she wanted to say, and instead just hugging him again.
 
Edmund kissed Fira on her forehead for a long moment.

"There's a bucket around here somewhere," he said. "Draw up some sea-water and wash yourself. I want you and seeing other men's cum on your body is somewhat off-putting."

He looked back towards the stern of the ship where several of the crew were gathered around the captain.

"I'm going to make sure everything's okay."

He reluctantly stood and walked somewhat unsteadily back towards the stern. He'd felt the post-battle crash several times, but the knowledge that it was normal only took away the fear of the unknown, the physical inconvenience remained. Walking helped, so he moved slowly and tried to relax, to let his body do what it needed to do anyway.

The remaining Axxumite crewmen were gathered around... Edmund rushed to the side and vomited. He turned back, somewhat embarassed by his behavior, but none of the men seemed inclined to chide him. One of them quietly handed him a rag.

<My brother,> the captain said, indicating one of the... shambles. <These two must have been caught in the rope. The ship was dragging them in the water, that's why we caught them so soon.>

Edmund looked down at the bloated, half-eaten corpses and nodded. <Then I owe him a great debt. Does he have a family?>

The captain nodded.

<I'll need to talk to them when we make port, then. When do you think that will be?>

<Tomorrow,> the captain replied. <You and your wife can sleep under the quarterdeck. We don't have anything to make clothing for her, but you won't have any trouble from us.>

<Thank you, Captain. I'm going to wash up now and then I'm going sleep.>

He turned and walked slowly back towards the bow.
 
Fira was relieved to wash up and get the scent of the strange men off of her and was nearly finished when Edmund returned to her. She shivered in the breeze as her skin dried off.
 
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Edmund began stripping off his bloody clothing. "Help me wash," he said. "We'll have no trouble with this crew."
 
She moved to help him, kissing him quickly as she did so and whispering, "I hope to find some cloth soon somewhere. I'm freezing."
 
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