Amazon Slave

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Amazon Slave Page 4

by Lisette Ashton


  She gasped miserably. ‘It’s the truth,’ she told him. Emily desperately wanted him to believe her and release her from the mast.

  He moved slightly away from her. His hand fell from her breast and brushed casually against the thick swatch of her dark pubic bush. His fingers rubbed slowly against the lips of her sex.

  She groaned excitedly. His touch inspired an explosion of pleasure that left her trembling with desire.

  ‘I’m not wholly convinced that it’s the truth,’ he told her. ‘And I’m in a bit of a quandary as to what I should do.’

  Emily stared at him. The lids of her eyes were half-closed with pleasure, but she saw no reflection of her emotion on the captain’s face.

  ‘I don’t have the time or the inclination to try and deal with the local authorities,’ he said briskly. ‘And I don’t believe your story. Now, I would appreciate it if you could start telling me something that I do believe.’ He took a step backwards, away from her.

  ‘I am telling the truth,’ Emily insisted.

  The first blow of the cane struck the top of her left leg.

  She shrieked, stung by the welt of fire that burnt her skin. Her cries echoed softly in the night but she doubted they travelled any further than the enveloping folds of the sails. A choked breath hitched in her chest and she strained against the ties on her wrists. A second blow struck her right leg. This one stung even more furiously than the first and she sucked in a noisy breath.

  ‘Bastard!’ she screamed angrily, wondering how the man could dare to do this to her. He had just been exciting her with his kisses and caresses. Now he was striking her with a passionate fury. She tried not to think of her arousal, unhappy with the fact that it had not dissipated. Her nipples were still rock hard nubs and the avaricious yearning between her legs was an urgent drumbeat.

  ‘Who are you? And why are you here?’ he demanded. The cane whipped through the air. The sound was lost amongst the rustle of the stiff sails. Emily felt two blows strike her in sharp succession. The tip of the cane bit cruelly against her inner thighs. It was a mere whisper away from the lips of her vagina. She held herself still, not daring to think of the pain she would have experienced if his aim had been a millimetre higher.

  ‘I’ve told you who I am,’ she said stiffly. ‘And I’ve told you why I’m here. Why don’t you believe me?’

  This time the cane struck her nipple. She moaned loudly, torn between conflicting sensations. The pain was intense. A fire of unprecedented proportions burnt furiously in her breast. Along with the pain, she could feel an exquisite explosion of pleasure beginning to spread through her body. Shivers of excitement tingled in every pore. The combination was so extreme it thrilled and terrified her.

  He moved closer and kissed her again.

  She responded to him eagerly.

  Inside, she could feel a dark cloud of self-loathing beginning to develop. She hated herself for enjoying his punishment yet still she pushed her tongue into his mouth and explored him. She heard herself gasping with pleasure and realised how close she was to orgasm. When his fingers touched the aching tip of her bruised nipple, she felt the orgasm tear through her. Waves of delight washed over her body and she shrieked loudly, engulfed by a torrent of ecstasy.

  Emily closed her eyes tightly against the pleasure-pain coursing through her body. When she opened them, he was smiling broadly into her upturned face. She glared angrily at him.

  ‘Captain Wilde! Captain Wilde!’

  The urgent voices were calling him from the stern and he turned to face them.

  Emily followed the direction of his gaze and saw the man and woman running along the deck. She recognised them as the blond man and the dark-haired woman who had been with the captain in the pilothouse. They were both dressed in loose robes, but she knew they were naked beneath the garments.

  Emily watched as Laura moved from her side and approached the couple.

  ‘Nothing to report, Laura,’ Vincent told her. His words carried easily in the night.

  The captain took a step toward him. ‘Nothing?’ he barked sharply.

  Vincent shook his head. ‘We’ve searched from bow to stern. There’s no one else on board and she has no baggage of any description.’

  The captain turned to Emily and smiled at her. ‘Well,’ he grinned. ‘It looks like you may have been telling the truth after all. Perhaps I should untie you.’

  She glared at him, despising his indifferent tone. ‘That would be a nice idea,’ she said through clenched teeth.

  He shrugged. ‘I’m tempted to leave you tied to the mast,’ he said. ‘But I suppose you’ve been punished sufficiently for stowing away.’ He studied her silently, his black eyes glaring contemptuously at her. Without another word he turned away and nodded a silent command at Laura.

  Emily felt a wave of relief washing over her as the woman untied her wrists. She glared hatefully at the captain while Laura did this. ‘You had no right to do that to me,’ she told him angrily.

  He laughed. ‘I’m the captain of this boat,’ he said crisply. ‘And you’ll soon find out that I have the right to do whatever the hell I want.’

  Emily swallowed and tried not to shiver beneath his commanding glare. She did not doubt that the man would be capable of a lot worse than she had already experienced. The idea unsettled her. In spite of the fact that she had found dark enjoyment from his punishment, Emily had no intention of submitting to him again.

  She rubbed her aching wrists, conscious of her nudity but unembarrassed.

  ‘Take her down below,’ Captain Wilde snapped.

  Emily glanced up and realised he was talking to the dark-haired woman who had been punished in the pilothouse.

  ‘Get her cleaned up and prepared for dinner,’ he continued. Then, glancing at Emily, he told her, ‘We’ll talk over food.’

  Emily bit back an angry retort, glaring furiously at the captain’s unreadable black eyes.

  The captain met her gaze, his lips twisted in a smile of contempt. His disapproval for her was obvious as he boldly studied her naked body. The curl of his sneer could not have been more pronounced. Without another word, the captain turned and marched away.

  * * *

  As the shower’s spray poured over her, Emily tried to get the memory out of her mind. The cool water should have a cleansing effect, she thought. Just as it removed the light trace of sweat from her naked body, it should have been able to purge the unwanted recollections from her mind.

  Using the soap on her breasts, Emily massaged the two orbs until they were coated with a rich, creamy lather. Her nipples still ached from the punishment they had received earlier. She felt them tingle with pained excitement as she soaped herself. Each time her hands made a circle against the yielding flesh, she felt her breath deepen to a ragged gasp.

  Her arousal was made worse by the recurring memory of Captain Wilde brandishing his cane. Her body was marked with stripes and her bruised nipples ached when she touched them. The fact that she had enjoyed the beating was confusing to say the least. The memory of her experience kept recurring to her like the melody of a popular tune. In spite of the humiliation and discomfort, the most poignant thing she remembered was the intense pleasure.

  ‘Stop it!’ she cautioned herself, aware of the way her own lascivious fingers were stimulating her. ‘You don’t want to start doing that again, do you?’ Her hands made one last circle on her breasts and then she bravely moved the soap away. She took comfort from the thought that the experience had left her with no psychological damage, even if the physical pain still lingered. It would have been easy to let the memory of this evening spoil her appetite for pleasure permanently. Wanting, but not daring to touch herself again, she held her chest beneath the shower’s spray and allowed the water to rinse her clean.

  It was easy enough to soap the rest of her body and she was beginning to feel more confident when another mental picture came to her.

  She closed her eyes and could see the captain in the pil
othouse with the dark-haired woman, Dawn. He was standing over Dawn’s raised arse, his cane held high in the air. With her eyes pressed shut, she saw him bring it down again and again with malevolent ferocity. The thin strip of wood burnt bright red lines across the pale flesh of her gorgeous backside. The dark cleft of her sex was visible, the soft folds of her pussy lips pouting between the cheeks. Dawn squealed gratefully with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Enjoying the beating, she held her arse higher for him to strike her again.

  In the shower, Emily pressed the soap between her legs and began to gently rub it against the swollen heat of her sex. The cool water continued to pour over her breasts, exciting myriad tingling explosions of pleasure from the taut nubs of her aching nipples.

  Between her legs, the soap slid easily against the wetness of her labia. Emily caught her breath, amazed by the tidal wave of pleasure coursing through her. She had considered the image to be arousing in a dark sort of way but she had not realised it excited her to such an extent. After the humiliating experience she had endured at the captain’s hands, she had doubted she would ever feel dark longing like this.

  She pressed a finger against the soap-slippery wetness of her hole and allowed the tip to tease the sensitive skin of her pussy flesh. Suppressing a groan of elation, scared that someone outside the shower might hear her, Emily teased the lips of her labia apart and began to finger her clitoris. The bud of her sex was already hard and erect, as though it had been waiting for her touch. She brushed the pad of one fingertip gently over the aroused pearl, then squeezed it playfully between finger and thumb. The wealth of sensations that thrilled her was incredible. Slowly moving her hands lower Emily gently pushed a finger into her wet hole. Her desire was now so great it was almost palpable. In a frenzied rush she began to finger-fuck her pussy. Before she knew what was happening, she felt the blissful haven of an orgasm encompassing each of her body’s nerve-endings. Without realising she was doing it, Emily sighed loudly. The explosion of delight erupting between her legs was so great she briefly forgot her resolution to remain silent.

  ‘Are you all right in there?’

  It was a woman’s voice, concerned and just outside the shower’s Plexiglas door.

  Emily pressed a hand over her mouth to stop herself making any more sounds. ‘I’m fine,’ she said quickly. ‘Just fine.’

  ‘I have your towel here,’ the woman’s voice replied. ‘For when you’re finished.’

  Emily put the soap down and allowed the shower’s spray to cool her body for one final time. Stepping out of the cubicle, she was surprised to see Dawn still waiting for her.

  Again, she was treated to the memory of Dawn’s punishment in the pilothouse. It brought with it a fleeting taste of her earlier arousal and she dismissed the recollection nervously.

  ‘Your towel,’ Dawn said, holding out a large bath sheet. She was dressed in a loose navy blouse and a short wraparound skirt that showed her shapely legs to perfect advantage. She smiled warmly at Emily’s naked body, not disguising her open admiration. Her gaze flitted appreciatively over Emily’s figure and her soft smile broadened.

  Emily could feel herself blushing. ‘Thank you.’ She took the towel and studied the woman, uncomfortable with the rigorous scrutiny she was being given. Emily could not understand why Dawn was staring at her and after a few moments her discomfort turned into nervousness.

  ‘I can take care of myself now, thanks,’ she said tightly.

  The woman nodded. Without another word, she turned and made for the door. With her fingers on the handle, she paused and turned to face Emily. ‘You have a very attractive body,’ she said quietly.

  Emily swallowed, uncertain as to what she should say in response to this. ‘That’s kind of you to say,’ she stammered nervously.

  Dawn grinned. She took a step back towards Emily, her hand outstretched as though she was going to do something.

  Emily wondered how things would have progressed if Captain Wilde had not chosen that moment to call her away.

  ‘Dawn. In here, now.’

  Even through the inner walls and partitions of the boat, his commanding voice still carried a powerful weight.

  Emily glared angrily at the wall, hating the sound of the man’s voice.

  Dawn smiled sadly into Emily’s face. ‘I’d better go to him,’ she said quietly. ‘He’ll only make it worse if I don’t.’

  Again, Emily was left wondering what she could possibly say. It was a bizarre situation and she already had a better understanding of it than she would ever have wanted. Bitterly, she nodded agreement with Dawn. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she said after a moment’s thought.

  Dawn seemed to brighten at these words. ‘Yes!’ She said excitedly. ‘We’ll see one another later. Good idea.’ Before Emily could stop her, Dawn had slipped out of the shower room.

  Emily watched the door close behind her and slowly began to towel herself dry. ‘They’re all strange on board this ship,’ she told herself unhappily. ‘What have I got myself into?’

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Emily sat down with the captain and his wife. ‘That was a lovely shower,’ she said, speaking to Laura. Plucking at the side of the silk robe she wore, she added, ‘And thanks for the loan of this.’

  Laura waved her compliments away. She was a beautiful woman: tall, blonde with full breasts, a slender waist and long, shapely legs. Even though she was still dressed in dark stockings and a black figure-hugging basque, she did not seem embarrassed by her attire. It seemed like it was the most natural thing in the world for her to dress like this and then attend supper with a complete stranger. She settled herself in the seat opposite Emily and placed her hand on the captain’s leg. With an indulgent smile for her guest, Laura said, ‘Vincent and Dawn are preparing a little supper for you. I’m sure you must be ravenous by now.’

  Emily nodded. She considered thanking the woman again, then stopped herself, aware that Laura had been in attendance when the captain was punishing her. Not wishing to appear rude, she contented herself with simply nodding and smiling.

  ‘Why did you stow away on board the Amazon Maiden?’ Captain Wilde asked sharply.

  Laura squeezed her hand tightly around the man’s leg. ‘No darling,’ she cautioned him patiently. ‘We agreed we would talk about that after she’d had a chance to eat and rest a little.’

  The captain frowned darkly but his wife was unintimidated.

  ‘The Amazon Maiden?’ Emily asked curiously. ‘Is that the name of this ship?’

  ‘Boat,’ the captain corrected absently. ‘She’s a fifty-foot clipper, a formidable vessel, but she’s not a ship. She’s a boat. And yes, she is called the Amazon Maiden.’

  Emily thought it was a pretty name, but she would never have told him this in a million years.

  He glowered at her coldly. ‘It’s written on the side of the boat, clear for any stowaway to see.’

  ‘You’re being contentious again, Captain,’ Laura told her husband calmly. She had a musical voice. It managed to soften the atmosphere in the saloon in spite of her husband’s bad mood and Emily’s loathing for him.

  ‘As I told you before,’ Emily said, ‘I’m sorry I stowed away. I was stranded back in the village. My boyfriend had driven off. I had no money, and I’d lost my passport. I’m so unfamiliar with the language here that I was scared to approach anyone. If I’d known you spoke English I would have told you my predicament before I came aboard your ship.’ She glared defiantly at him, daring him to challenge her story again.

  ‘It’s not a ship, it’s a boat,’ Captain Wilde corrected. He returned Emily’s insolent glare until she eventually looked away. ‘You sound like you’ve been through rough waters,’ Captain Wilde said stiffly. ‘We’ll talk more while you eat.’ He snapped his fingers and said crisply, ‘Dawn. In here please.’

  Dawn entered the saloon at his command. ‘Captain Wilde?’

  Emily glanced uncertainly at the woman, remembering her forward appraisal in the s
hower. The most prominent image she had of Dawn was the sight of the woman’s naked body. Emily recalled the feeling of erotic excitement she had experienced when she saw Dawn’s pierced nipples. Without realising she was doing it, Emily studied the contours of the woman’s breasts through her blouse.

  She had a slender figure and a petite frame. Her long, lank locks and pale expressive eyes leant an air of mystery to her appearance that was attractive in a vulnerable sort of way. It seemed hard to believe the woman wore such intimate body jewellery. Studying the misshapen thrust of her pierced nipples, Emily realised she could not have imagined the sight.

  ‘A glass of Bacardi for our guest,’ Captain Wilde instructed. ‘And I’d prefer it if you could serve her meal before she dies of malnutrition.’

  ‘Vincent was just completing the side salad, Captain Wilde,’ Dawn said, taking a glass from the cupboard. She filled it with a generous measure of Bacardi and added a couple of ice cubes. Placing the drink on the table in front of Emily, Dawn smiled slyly at her.

  Emily was aware of something dark and unfathomable in the woman’s eyes. She could not quite read the meaning in her glance, but she knew there was some sort of intimation in the expression. When Dawn winked discreetly at her, Emily guessed exactly what the meaning was.

  Blushing furiously, Emily turned away.

  Her hand found the drink she had been given and she took it eagerly. Unless she was very much mistaken, Dawn had been trying to make a pass at her. Considering what she had seen the woman doing, Emily would have thought Dawn got enough pleasure from the men on the boat. Thinking about the highly charged passion in the pilothouse and the undercurrent of sexual tension that pervaded the saloon, Emily realised just how wrong her first impressions had been. Dawn obviously got her pleasure from both men and women and Emily found the idea unsettling. Remembering the way the woman had been looking at her in the shower, she realised it all made sense.

  She suppressed a shiver of revulsion, not wanting the others to see how she really felt. Trying to steady her nerves, she took a sip at the Bacardi and glanced around the saloon.

 

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