Descent Into Captivity (Closed for Otto26 and Darkwarrioress)

[DarkWarrioress]

Alexa Collins stood on the deck of the ship watching as the men aboard cast off and they slowly headed out to sea. Well, this was it, she thought to herself as she gazed out over the rail of the ship. She was on her way, finally, to join her husband in the Americas. James Collins was the son of a prosperous shipping magistrate there. Tugging off her gloves, she started down at the gold wedding band she wore. Idly, her fingers twisted the band on her finger as she mused. There was nothing conventional about this marriage of hers. Then again, it wasn’t unheard of to be married by proxy and then starting her marriage properly in the Americas. James and his family had lived in England but Mr. Collins Sr. had seen an opportunity in the New World and had taken it. They had sold everything they had owned in England and headed across the sea to find their fortune. There had been talk about marrying James to Alexa for years but it was something Alexa had put off until she couldn’t any longer. The Collins’ had sent their proxy back to England three days ago. Now, Alexa was on her way to America to join her new family. In some ways she was glad to brush the dirt of England from the hem of her dress. There was nothing exciting in England to keep her there.

Alexa, 18 years of age, was an average young woman, of average height. Looking in a mirror, she would have said she was fair of face and body. She had a faint sprinkling of freckles across her nose that went with her dark auburn hair that hung in ringlets at her shoulders. Her eyes, generally hazel, often turned to a dark green when her emotions were deeply aroused. Unlike the majority of young women her age, Alexa was quite intelligent. While women were discouraged from reading and writing, Alexa did both. She had a deep thirst for knowledge and her father, having no other children, had encouraged her in all things. She had had tutors in a great many subjects, including self-defense. She had excelled in dagger and sword play. Fortunately for her, she had never seen the need to disclose her education to anyone, including her husband. James, who, like most men, had expressed his interest in her femininity. The few times they had been alone, he had whispered in her ear his interest in her luscious endowments and small waist and the things he wanted to do to her. Those were times she had looked upon him in distaste and found a way not to be alone with him again, despite his continued attempts.

So, why had she agreed to marry him? To escape her parents. To escape her current life. She knew she couldn’t forever hold James at bay but she could hope his father kept him quite busy with the family business as he was an only child as well. Alexa wasn’t sure what awaited her in America but she would do whatever it took to be free.

She could feel the soft roll under her feet as their ship moved out to sea. With a soft sigh, she turned and went below to her quarters. On her way down she passed the Captain.

“Mrs. Collins.”

The captains fingers went to the bill of his cap as he acknowledged her presence. Alexa paused and smiled.

“Good Afternoon, Captain. How is the weather shaping up to be for our journey?”

“We should have fair seas, Mrs. Collins. I hope you have found your room to your liking?”

“It’s fine, Captain. I’m heading that way now so I won’t keep you.”

“Mrs. Collins.”

“Captain.”

Alexa wasn’t sure she would ever get use to being addressed by her married name. Like everything else, it was something new and foreign to her. However, she was willing to embrace it. As she moved past the captain, she wondered what her life held in store for her.

 

[Otto26]

Ismail al Hulandia watched Gebra al Tariq fall behind them, each pull of the oars carrying the ship further into the Atlantic. He still thought of it as the Atlantic Ocean, just as he still preferred to be called Jan. Which was probably a big part of why the Dey did not like him.

"Our fortune holds," Abbas commented.

Jan grunted; his subordinate's comment could be taken in two ways. They had been fortunate to leave the harbor of Algiers without being arrested. They had been fortunate to have a following wind to Gebra al Tariq. And they had been fortunate to pass through the pillars without harassment by Castillians or corsairs from Rabat. But it was misfortune, the enmity of the Dey, that had driven them to this sudden journey and further misfortune, death, awaited them on their return if they were not very successful on this hunt.

"We'll make for the calm to the south and see if we can find some fat merchants," he ordered. "No hurry."

Abbas nodded his understanding. The ship was a galley. Fifteen rows of slaves sat, chained to their benches, four men to an oar along the length of the ship. They provided the ship with a means of motion independent of the wind, crucial in their preferred hunting grounds. But if they were worked too hard, too soon, then it would take days for them to recover their strength, if they recovered at all. Jan would move at a pace that preserved the strength of the slaves for when it was needed. He stepped over to the supervisor and advised this worthy of the decision. The supervisor nodded and held his hands aloft, signaling to the odd benches to ship their oars and rest while the even benches continued at a new, slower, pace. The slaves changed their low chant to the one appropriate to the pace and kept working. Overseers where quick to apply the lash to laggards that didn't pay attention. The replacements, driven by fear of the same lashes, leapt to work, cleaning the spaces beneath the inactive rowers of shit and piss and washing the space down with buckets of water that had to be re-collected and thrown over the side.

"Send a lookout aloft," Jan commanded.

From the ranks of his free sailors a man reluctantly scurried forward and then climbed the main mast. It was traditional to lay wagers with the lookout that he would fall to his death. If he survived then he would have a few fals for his trouble and if he died then his debtors would be paid out of his belongings. Very few actually died, but the duty was unpleasant and largely hated; the lookout had to maintain his perch high atop the mainmast with only a rope to help secure him. It was hot and the top of the mast moved widely in the swells and men quickly became sick and dehydrated aloft.

Jan had no sympathy for the lookout; it was a duty he'd performed often enough before he'd risen up the ranks. It was a duty he'd never performed on a galley, however. He'd already been a captain when he converted and transferred his loyalty to the Dey. And the lookout had nothing to fear from that worthy. Jan, on the other hand.

"Not the best time for hunting," Abbas remarked.

Jan nodded his agreement. "It shall be as God wills," he said, invoking a deity he didn't believe in. Silently he added 'Send me fat pigeon!'

 

[DarkWarrioress]

They had been at sea for a few days now and Alexa needed not only some fresh air but a change of scenery from her cabin. She ate her meals in her cabin and the few times she was allowed topside, she was never left alone. This, she didn’t mind because her escort always gave her plenty of room and privacy when she wanted to go topside. Today was no different. Alexa stood there, at the rail, her face raised to the sun. Dear heavens, it felt so good on her face. She had opted out of wearing a bonnet. Her reddish curls danced in the sea breeze. This day, like the past ones so far, had been fair sailing. She was very much amazed with herself. She was turning out to be a fair sailor. She had found her sea legs easily enough. The ocean’s swells were gentle. Looking out, there was more of the same gentle swells, lightly lifting and setting down the ship. She turned away from the rail partially and glanced upward, shielding her eyes from the sun with the help of her hand. The sails billowed in the wind.

“Mrs. Collins.”

Alexa didn’t even turn her head. She knew who it was. He had made a habit of seeking her out once a day.

“Captain.”

“How are you faring, Madam?”

“I am well, Captain and you? How do you fare on this lovely day?”

“Well enough, Mrs. Collins. Well enough. I do apologize for assigning you an escort but you are a lady travelling on your own. Your husband has paid well to keep you safe.”

“I understand, Captain. It’s not exactly to my liking, but I’ll manage to get through it. Thank you.”

“Then I shall take my leave of you. I have some things I need to check on. Enjoy the day, Mrs. Collins.”

“Thank you, Captain. I shall indeed try to.”

Alexa was not at all happy with having someone dogging her footsteps but there was little she could do about it on this ship. Besides, the captain was only doing what he was instructed and was getting paid to do.

“Pardon me, Ma’am. Are you ready to go back below now?”

There was one more whimsical look at the ocean and Alexa turned from the rail.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

She wondered how she was going to get to the Americas without dying of boredom. It was a long trip to make.

 

[Otto26]

With the sails tightly furled along the yards Al Fatih was barely visible at a distance. The naked masts would be difficult for a lookout to spy and, in the game of predator and prey, seeing your opponent first was crucial. The ship moved along at steerage pace, turning figure eights in the ocean as they crisscrossed the southbound route European ships customarily sailed. The weather was cooperating, with barely a breeze and fair skies.

"Double," Abbas quietly declared before moving his pieces and rolling a second time.

It would not save him, Jan, judged. His pieces were in better position and he would send at least two of Abbas' counters to the bar.

"A sail!" came the call, interrupting their game. They both rose quickly to their feet and looked aloft. The lookout pointed to the northwest.

Jan rubbed his beard and considered the situation for a moment. "Move west," he commanded. "With the wind as it is likely to be we'll move in from behind them, cutting behind to determine who and what they are. We'll have the sun behind us and they'll have difficult seeing us. If they're a warship we'll continue on east and they'll be unable to effectively pursue us. And if they're a merchant..." he left the sentence unfinished but Abbas smiled, knowing the end result.

The atmosphere aboard the galley tightened as the men moved to execute the plan and the ship became, again, a predator.

***

Jan smiled at the ship in his spyglass. "English," he informed Abbas. "A merchant." He looked back at the sun and the shadows being cast. "We've time to take her before sunset. Fortune favors us. Get them armed and ready, we'll shove our dick up her rear and take all she has." His first mate nodded and began to issue the orders. The crew made ready to attack the ship while the rowers were quickly watered and then picked up their pace. The galley began to knife through the low swell towards the merchantman lumbering in the low winds. At this point there was no chance the ship could escape.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Alexa smiled to herself as her eyes took in the sun slowly sinking in the west. The sky was painted in swatches of reds with oranges mixed in with yellows. It reflected off the water and was breath-taking. She had asked to come topside before the evening in her cabin was to commence. The fresh air mixed with the smell of the salty ocean, did wonders for her sleep. Once she went to bed, the rhythmic rolling of the ship usually put her to sleep. For now however, she enjoyed the setting sun and the wind on her face. Every now and then, the ocean’s spray would touch her face and she marveled at how cold it felt.

She was lost in thought thinking about her life to come in the colonies with her new husband. What was James going to be like once she got there? What was going to be his expectations of her as his wife, in and out of their bedroom. If she were completely honest with herself, she was not looking forward to their intimate life. There was something about James she found distasteful. Every time he had simply touched her, she could feel her skin crawl. How in the world was she going to make love with the man as his wife if she felt that way? Aside from James, she also wondered what her life in the New World would be like. her in-laws, she knew, were rich and she wondered how they fared in the Americas. She and James, she also knew they would be living with them for the time being. Not long, she hoped. From what she had known of her father-in-law, he was a tyrant and women had a certain place and purpose in this world. He would have scathing things to say if he ever found out how educated his daughter-in-law was.

The sun was creeping lower, heading for the water’s line. As the natural light began to fade, there was a soft clearing of a male throat behind her. Alexa turned reluctantly from the rail and looked at her appointed escort.

“I’m ready to go-----”

“SAIL HO!”

It came from aloft, from the crow’s nest on the main sail, to be exact. She looked up toward the voice that had spoken out above the crash of the waves against the sides of the ship.

“What does that---”

“Miss, we must hurry,” her escort had grabbed her arm and was pulling her toward the stairway to below.

Alexa wanted to ask why the hurry and thought better of it. She simply hurried after the man. It could mean anything or anyone. She had no sooner got inside her cabin when she heard her door close with a quick slam and locked from the outside. The sound of the lock turning on the outside sent a wave of panic through her even though she reasoned that it was a good precaution. However the thought of the ship sinking and drowning in her cabin drove a wave of dread to go through her as well. Nervously, she paced her room and wrung her hands. Her ears were tuned into anything going on topside. There wasn’t much she could hear. Everything was muffled by the wood surrounding her. Fear crept up her spine. Her mouth went dry. What if it were pirates? She hadn’t given thought to that possibility at all. Hopefully the captain would come and unlock her door and inform her all was well after all. Alexa sat down on the side of her bed and stared blankly at a wall, waiting. It was all she could do at the moment.

 

[Otto26]

The merchant spotted them far too late. 'Today,' Jan thought, 'They would have had to spy us yesterday to do any good.' The crew gathered in the bow, armed and ready. The rowers pulled hard at the oars, driven on by the indiscriminate lash of the overseers, and a small drum kept the beat to save their breath. Al Fatih knifed through the waves, closing from behind and to the side. There was nothing the merchantman could do. The evening winds blew from the shore to the sea and they could go no faster, could not evade. They made ready to defend themselves, sailors frantically mounting and loading swivel guns on the railings, but it would not save them. Jan wondered if the captain would try to fight anyway, not caring either way.

As the ships closed the last twenty yards of the gap a group of musketmen under the command of Abbas fired a volley up at the railing where English sailors were still attempting to get the swivel guns into action. Most of the shots missed, even at ten yards it was nearly impossible to hit anything from the deck of a ship, but a few did not and crewmen fell back from the swivel guns, screaming in pain or silent because they were beyond pain. The ships collided with a thud that threw the rowers onto their backs and disordered the oars, it would take at least half an hour to sort them out. Which didn't matter, at the moment, because grapnels and ropes from from the Al Fatih flew to the English ship and locked them in a violent embrace. Men flew across moments later, pistols and cutlasses in hand. And that, by and large, ended it, Jan knew. Once they were aboard it was all over. He moved forward, past the overseers already hard at work sorting out the oars and the rowers, and carefully climbed aboard the ship.

The corpse of one English sailor lay before him, bleeding on the deck. A few others were on the main deck, victims of their own courage or his crew's bloodlust. Most of the English crew had their hands in the air or they were kneeling. Abbas was shouting orders at the men, orders to search the ship, orders to moderate their violence. Two of his crew had the English captain between them, on his knees, and awaited Jan. He looked down at the man, imagining how he felt. He'd captained a ship such as this for years and could easily put himself in the other captain's shoes.

"I am Ismail al Hulandia," he introduced himself.

"You're Dutch!" the captain exclaimed.

"Once," Jan agreed, "but no longer. Now I serve the Dey of Algiers."

"Algiers," the captain repeated, his defeat dropping its full weight upon him. Jan saw and understood. Algiers was the worst destination for a slave. There would be hard labor, brutality, slim to no hope for a rescue or an escape.

"You understand," Jan observed. "Perhaps you may wish to convert; the Dey is always in need of new captains. But, your ship, your cargo, and your crew are now mine. I wish to know what you are carrying and I don't wish to resort to torture and a long search to obtain this information. Not you, of course. Not at first. I'll start with your crew."

The captain licked his lips, considering his options. They were few and none of them were good.

"There is a passenger," he began.

***

The door was locked. Ali considered it and gestured to Mahmoud. Together they each lifted a leg and kicked hard, stepping through the wreckage of the door and into the room. A houri stood against the far wall, and English houri with red hair and green eyes. His eyes lit up and, mindful of Abbas' order to bring everything of value up to the deck, he and Mahmoud slowly closed on her.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

The wringing of her hands abruptly ceased as Alexa jumped up from the bed she had been sitting on. The sound of heavy footsteps had reached her ears, mainly because they had been making their way down the stairs and toward her cabin. She backed up until her back was against the wall. Her eyes went wide as she watched and heard someone trying to get into her cabin. She had barred the door from the inside when she had first heard something not quite right happening on their ship. Her eyes, which were already wide, got even wider as the wood splintered right in front of her and two dangerous looking men entered and they were striding toward her. Dear god, in heaven… what was happening? And where was the captain?

“Who are you and what do you want?”

She tried keeping the fear out of her voice but that wasn’t working so easily. She kept trying to back up even more but there was simply nowhere else to go. Alexa was well and truly cornered and she knew it.

“No please. Stop.”

She held out both hands as if to ward them off. It had been a purely, instinctive movement on her part. Some other part of her brain registered the silliness of her bare hands being able to stop them. The two men had advanced on her until they each could roughly take an arm and yanked her forward as they started back the way they had come. They shoved her up the stairs, ahead of them and not so gently either. She could feel the heat of their eyes on her back. Alexa stumbled over her skirts once or twice but caught herself as she came topside. Once the fresh sea air hit her, she looked around. There were a few bodies scattered across the deck and judging from the blood pooling under them, they were beyond help. Her eyes alighted upon the captain of this vessel and he looked like he had fared better days. The two men who had found her and brought her up, shoved her again, this time toward the man who had his back to her.

Pirates? Maybe. Like none she had ever heard of however. They looked…. foreign. Middle East, perhaps? She frowned. It was hard to tell. Her studies had covered very little about the peoples from there. Her heart rate was harsh though she managed to keep her breathing in check. Alexa clutched her hands together in front of her as she came to a direct halt behind the man. The man was much taller than she was. Then again, most men were. Her eyes, she knew from past experience, were a deep green from all the chaos, even fear, she was sure. What were the Winds of Fate about to bestow upon her now?

 

[Otto26]

"Qayid," Mahmoud respectfully prompted.

Jan turned and looked down. He was a tall man, large and powerfully built. His physique had played a large part in his ascension to power and had shaped and flavored it. Perhaps a smaller man might have relied more on skill, and Jan had that in plenty, but violence had been a ready tool and he was good at that, too. His beard was kept short, no more than two inches long, and neatly trimmed. He'd have dispensed with it entirely but the Dey put great store in the appearance of piety. His round face betrayed, no, proclaimed, that we was a European by birth but he thought nothing of that; many of the Dey's men were Europeans.

The woman was frightened but not senselessly so, and he liked that; she'd be able to respond to commands. Her eyes were wide and a deep green and he wondered if she was a crier. He took in the ring on her finger; the Captain had called her Mrs. Collins. A pity she wasn't a maid he could present to the Dey, but at least the crew would be cheerful on the voyage home.

"Good evening, Mrs. Collins," he said in his deep, Dutch-flavored English. "I inform you that you are no longer bound for America, but for Algiers. As you are not a maid your task enroute will be the pleasure of my crew. You are inappropriately dressed for your duties, a fact my crew will now address."

"Strip her," he ordered in Arabic. "Roughly."

Mahmoud smiled and drew a knife while Ali took tight hold of the woman.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Again, her eyes widened as the man spoke. He was not Middle Eastern though this did not surprise her. From her studies she knew that many men were taken hostage and given the choice of converting or dying. Logically speaking, many converted instead of dying.

“Algiers?” her voice was barely above a whisper.

As you are not a maid your task enroute will be the pleasure of my crew. You are inappropriately dressed for your duties, a fact my crew will now address."

As a man grabbed her and she heard the not a maid… pleasure for his crew…. She felt her heart start to race at an alarming rate and she struggled. Even knowing she would eventually be in trouble, she kicked out at the man advancing with a knife, striking him in his lower abdomen with enough force to make him fall back. The man holding her tight found himself thrown to the deck, releasing her so she could back away.

“Wait! WAIT! I may be married but I’m still a maid. I was married by proxy and was on my way to meet my husband and start a new life….”

Her words came swiftly as did her breath. Color rose in her cheeks as she spoke. This was a matter not to be discussed with strangers. She could only hope the tall menacing man before her understood her words as she stood there in a panic, gripping her skirt with both hands. There was a pleading look in her green eyes as she turned them upon what she had deemed to be the leader. There was sinking feeling in her heart as she stared at him and determined that her words would do little to protect her. She could have very well snatched the dagger that was strapped to her inner thigh, but what good would that have done? Gotten her thrown to the crew and used for their baser needs, she was almost sure of. Not only that, but she, for some odd reason, didn’t want them to know too much about her person, other than the fact that she was still a virgin. However, that might have gone out the door so to speak. Her already actions spoke volumes. Women just didn’t throw men over their shoulders and have them land on the ground beneath them with force. Her eyes turned toward the leader, her chin lifting. False bravado or so it felt like but she simply could not go meekly to service that whole lot of men. She would be lucky to survive that but pleading for mercy from this… this… pirate, was also something she could not bring herself to do. She was a woman and women in Algiers were treated like owned property. All of sudden her life with James seemed like something that was now nothing more than a long lost dream.

There was fear in her heart. She had no idea what was to become of her, not only in her future, but here and now. Was he going to still order her to be stripped and given to his crew? And if not, what was he going to do with her? Alexa stood there, on the deck of the ship and wished with all her heart that she had been born a man. At least as a man, she would have had a choice. She had none. She was nothing in their eyes. She was simply to be a gift. Alexa had no wish to die, but to be handed from man to man? She would rather die.

 

[Otto26]

"Wait," Jan ordered in Arabic, one hand gesturing to restrain his men from attacking.

In English he continued, "A maid you say? Untouched?"

Mahmoud and Ali composed themselves, ready to throw themselves upon the Englishwoman at Jan's command. No, eager to throw themselves at her. She had humiliated them and their honor could only be redeemed by avenging themselves upon her. Only Jan's command restrained them. Their eyes burned into her and their fingers twitched.

Jan approached the woman more closely. She was not particularly short, but she was not tall and, at over six feet, he towered above her. "If you are lying to me," he said quietly, casually, "then I will turn my crew loose on you and I will drag you beside the ship and watch the sharks eat you alive."

One hand went to her hip and began to gather her dress, drawing the hem up one leg, exposing it, though his bulk blocked any view of her. He kept his eyes locked on hers as his free hand slipped beneath the gathered hem and found the bare flesh of her belly. Then it pushed down, between her thighs.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Her head was spinning, her heart was pounding in her chest. Everything was happening so fast! The big barbarian, or so he seemed to her, was going to… was going to let his men…. Her mouth went suddenly dry.

In English he continued, "A maid you say? Untouched?"

Wait. Was that going to make some sort of difference to her current fate? Those men, they were staring at her as if she was a tasty bone they were going to get to attack and only that big man that was speaking to her was the only thing that stood between her and them. Alexa stood shaking, squeezing her hands together really tight as she strove to only look at the man in front of her. She could feel their eyes on her. God knows, if their eyes could do the job, she’d be naked right now. Her clothes in shreds.

Her captor strode toward her. Her eyes followed him and she swallowed hard as he stopped in front of her, threatening her. She believed that threat. There was something in his eyes, something in his tone of voice.

One of his hands slid onto her hip. She could feel his fingers gathering the material of her skirt. She felt the ocean breeze against her skin as his fingers exposed her leg. She made a sound of protest as his eyes locked upon her own and as his free hand found the hem of her skirt and slid under it, finding its way to her belly. It was the first time a man had touched her thusly and she wanted nothing more than to slap his hand away but she knew… yes, she knew, it would do little good. As his hand pressed downward between her thighs, the fingers of one hand latched onto his wrist, squeezing it. It was a reaction, swift and without thought. He was going to humiliate her, right here, in front of not only his crew bit everyone else. Her cheeks reddened, going from a light flush to deep red. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, her throat and across her chest. Her eyes remained on his even as she forced her fingers to relax. She was not in charge here. He was, a point she was painfully aware of.

“I do not lie.”

Her eyes remained fastened on his. She tried to drill the fear to the back of her mind, praying it didn’t show in her eyes. It was hopeless, she knew. If he wished to do what she thought she was about to do, she couldn’t stop him. If need be, all he had to do was command his crew to hold her in place while his fingers invaded her private space. She wasn’t even sure why she had blurted out that she was still a virgin. Perhaps it was simply the fact he had thought she and her husband had…. It wasn’t an unusual assumption. Her thighs pressed together tightly as she stood there, quaking in her shoes.

 

[Otto26]

The woman resisted; her hand seized his wrist and sought to prevent him plundering her privacy. It made him smile. Jan preferred a woman that resisted, savored the power of stripping a woman of her clothing and control of her body. The screams, the tears, the quiet sobs.... She relaxed her grip upon him but her thighs, trembling, still pressed together, closing the gate to him.

He stroked her belly, fingertips sliding across her soft, smooth skin, not insisting that she open herself to him, exploring, teasing, feeling her flesh jump and tremble. If she was truly a maid than it was unlikely any man had touched her so. He was her first. His other hand kept a grip upon her hip, not letting her flee, forcing her to stand and endure his touch. His eyes fixed upon her face, boring into hers, laughing. He was going to have whatever he wanted from her. He knew that. Did she?

"There are two course of action open to us, Mrs. Collins," he said at length. Quietly. This was just between the two of them. A private moment in the midst of the plundering taking place around them. Not even his dogs, still waiting at bay, were participants in this. "I am, by nature, a courteous man," he lied, "and have courteously attempted to make a private confirmation of your status. You have refused this. This is a mistake; I will always seek to carry out tasks and desires in the easiest possible way. When that is not possible, when I am refused, then matters must be carried out in a more difficult fashion. I must have confirmation of your status. So, now you will provide that confirmation. You will lay down upon the deck and you will spread your legs to me and show my your cunt," he growled the last, "so that I may see proof of your maidenhood. If you elect to disobey me in this, then our course will grow harder still and I will be forced to show you the many ways that I can inflict pain and humiliation upon you. If our course grows hard enough, Mrs. Collins, then you may learn that it is not necessary to die to visit hell."

He winked at her wide eyes, wondering if he would be more satisfied if she complied or resisted. That line of thought was dangerous. It led to broader speculation. What if he simply took her? He could rape her against the railing while his crew cheered him on and then toss her to them and make for Rabat or Tangiers and try to find service there. The thought, the image, was tempting. Very tempting. But he'd be trying to claw his way up the ladder of status, again, as the most junior captain. He might not even be permitted to keep his vessel. Better to take her to Algiers and use her to buy his way into the good graces of the Dey. There were ways he could enjoy her without taking her maidenhood. He smiled.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

His touch frightened her. He was a savage. He lived to plunder and what did that mean for her? As frightened out of her mind as she was, Alexa strove to pay attention to his words. His voice, quiet as it was, sent shivers down her spine. As much as she wanted to argue with him, she wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. His word at this time, was law. Her goal was to stay alive. At. All. Costs. That was going to be her challenge. How much was she willing to endure to not only get through this but to live another day. Heaven only knew about anything from here and now. She leaned closer to this massive man to whisper to him.

“You want me to lie down on this deck, in front of those…those slobbering men of yours, lift my skirts and let you examine me for poof of my status, that I am still a virgin?”

Her eyes shot around them at his men who all seemed like starving dogs that were salivating at merely the thought of jumping on her. As she looked back at their captain who had the audacity to wink, as if this was a game to him. It very well could be. She, the men on this ship that she sailed with, the captain, they were nothing to him but goods. Her legs were still shaking with fear and he couldn’t understand, could he, that it was simply that fear not defiance that had kept her legs closed to him. She knew she didn’t have much time to decide what to do. For the briefest of moments, pain and humiliation seemed far better than doing as he wanted her to do. That was humiliation in and of itself. She swallowed hard. her lips trembled. The color in her cheeks grew redder by the moment. She also wondered how on earth he was planning to “see” her virginity and in the next second, she truly did not wish to know. Having defied him, she was sure he was going to humiliate her further. His eyes told her nothing other than the fact they were laughing at her. Her chin notched up with false bravado.

“Very well, then. If you will kindly help me to the deck since you are clutching my hip so fiercely?”

Her words once again came quietly. The look she gave him would easily have set him on fire, if it could have. Her ears shut out the jeering and whistles from his men. Her eyes blocked out everything and everyone but him. She could do this. She could. If she did not, there was no telling what he could or would do to bring her into compliance. There was a time and place for defiance, but that time was not now.