sw4fun
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Nov 14, 2010
- Posts
- 1,379
The sails snapped in the heavy breezes as the sloop cut through calm blue waters west of Martinique. Captain Edward Cross stood on the deck watching his crew at their work. He and the crew had been at sea for nearly two months and only taken one ship in that time, a small pink with hear empty holds. His crew was getting restless. Which was why as he stood there one hand rested on his cutlass and the other on a dagger. The tropical heat was intense and he had eschewed his normal waistcoat and stood there in shirt sleeves and trews. His grey eyes again swept the deck before looking high at the lookouts in the crows nest.
He loved looking over his ship. It was a swept line sloop made for speed. Fourteen guns sat on or below decks along with four swivels fore and five aft. She was a predator much like him and loved the hunt. Her dark hull was similar to his own dark brown hair though the tropical sun tried its best to bleach both. His revelry was soon interrupted with a cry of "Sails HO!" and his head snapped up to see where the lookout was point to. In a moment he had the bearing and his hands brought the glass to his eyes as he surveyed the horizon.
There it was a fat merchantman flying Spanish colors lumbering through the water. With a shout the crew was in motion trimming the sails and coming about to give chase. He screamed orders to get them moving faster. In short order they were in pursuit and through the glass he could see the merchant crew fly into motion as they were noticed.
It was no use and in under an hour they were in range and a single shot across the deck seemed to persuade them that flight and resistance would be futile. They struck their colors and waited, hoping for mercy. He led the boarding party himself and as the master of the merchant vessel approached he struck him in the face and kicked his legs out from under him.
"That is for running."
Standing over him he looked at his men and told them to pick four of the assembled crew. Then looking back at the master laying on the deck bleeding he spoke again, "You will turn over all your hidden gold or I will flay these four men in front of you. If I still don't believe that you have given it all over I will pick another four and so on until only you are left. Now speak, where is your strong box?"
He loved looking over his ship. It was a swept line sloop made for speed. Fourteen guns sat on or below decks along with four swivels fore and five aft. She was a predator much like him and loved the hunt. Her dark hull was similar to his own dark brown hair though the tropical sun tried its best to bleach both. His revelry was soon interrupted with a cry of "Sails HO!" and his head snapped up to see where the lookout was point to. In a moment he had the bearing and his hands brought the glass to his eyes as he surveyed the horizon.
There it was a fat merchantman flying Spanish colors lumbering through the water. With a shout the crew was in motion trimming the sails and coming about to give chase. He screamed orders to get them moving faster. In short order they were in pursuit and through the glass he could see the merchant crew fly into motion as they were noticed.
It was no use and in under an hour they were in range and a single shot across the deck seemed to persuade them that flight and resistance would be futile. They struck their colors and waited, hoping for mercy. He led the boarding party himself and as the master of the merchant vessel approached he struck him in the face and kicked his legs out from under him.
"That is for running."
Standing over him he looked at his men and told them to pick four of the assembled crew. Then looking back at the master laying on the deck bleeding he spoke again, "You will turn over all your hidden gold or I will flay these four men in front of you. If I still don't believe that you have given it all over I will pick another four and so on until only you are left. Now speak, where is your strong box?"
