Pirated Love

by K'Anne Meinel

“Shed blood?” she asked, haughtily, not fully understanding the implications. “I assure you all I wish to do is see...”

  “You ain’t leaving this room when we dock, and that’s final!” she said, as she stuck her knife in the table where it quivered from the force of the blow.

  Claire was annoyed, very annoyed by this, but a lifetime of following the word of her father or servants or even the nuns before that made her unsure of her ground, especially with this volatile captain. She did not understand, but perhaps she would later. Maybe if she just stayed quiet about it, perhaps the captain would change her mind or explain.

  “We need to send a message to your father too, about yer ransom,” the captain said to fill the awkward gap in conversation.

  “Where are you from?” Claire asked, suddenly. She was intrigued by the difference in speech mannerisms that the captain had exhibited. One moment she spoke in the slang that was evident in the other pirates and other times it was obvious she spoke like a British aristocrat. It was an odd conundrum.

  “Why?” Tina asked in reply, avoiding the question with one of her own.

  “I was curious,” Claire answered, despite the harsh reply.

  “Curiosity kills cats.”

  “I am not a cat,” she tried to tease in return.

  “But you have a fine pussy,” she said bluntly and watched the blonde redden at her coarseness. She felt a little bad for making her uncomfortable, but Frank had told Tina almost everything Claire asked about the ship and she was a nosy beggar.

  “Really,” she huffed. “Is that necessary?” she asked, indignantly.

  “Aye,” she answered, with a shrug of indifference. She was soon done with her meal and it was a quiet ending. “You’ll want to make sure your trunk is closed tightly. We’re in for a storm and it is going to get rough.”

  “You said that was why we were having an early supper, but there is not a cloud on the horizon,” she gestured towards the windows.

  “I know, but there will be...and soon. I will stop by to make sure everything is tied down before it begins, including you.”

  “Tie me down?” she asked, indignantly.

  “In a storm like what I am expectin’,” she used slang, deliberately shortening her words, “You would get tossed around like garbage. I do not want you gettin’ hurt!” She did not like her words to be questioned, but she supposed she could make exceptions for the unknowing, for now.

  Claire did not understand. She found a book in the captain’s small library in the bedroom that she took and read in the light from the windows until that began to fade. It helped to pass the hours while the captain was on deck and she had to light a lamp to continue. She had just managed to get it lit when a wave hit the ship and nearly knocked the lamp over. She hung it quickly, by the wire around it, to one of the hooks in the ceiling and watched it swing to and fro. Remembering the captain’s warning, she closed her trunk tightly and sat down on the bed as she looked out the windows from the room.

  Slowly, it got worse as the waves hammered the large ship. Claire wondered how bad it could get and started in surprise as the door suddenly swung open. She looked up with a squeak of alarm to see a very wild looking redheaded captain standing in the light from the lamp. She looked drenched.

  “We have to put that out!” she said, as she started towards the lamp, and then thought better of it as the trunk from Claire’s clothes moved in the sway of the ship. Quickly, she found a rope and lashed it to the floor, using the weird little hooks that Claire had wondered at that were in the floor and walls.

  “Let us get you tied up,” she said kindly to Claire as she advanced on her with more lashings.

  “Oh please, can I not be free...?” she asked, wondering what would happen to her if the ship went down and she was tied up.

  “Do you need the chamber pot?” Tina asked.

  Not wanting to be any more of a bother and certainly not wishing to use the pot in front of this woman, she refused. “Are you sure I need to be tied down?”

  Tina would not take no for an answer as she tied Claire comfortably to the bed. “Believe me, this is for your own good,” she told her to silence her arguments.

  Claire could not understand why she had to be tied down, but the captain would not listen to her.

  She went towards her windows and closed them firmly with wooden shutters across the length and breadth of them. “I am sorry, but you are going to have to be in the dark too,” Tina told her as she went to the lamp and unhooked it. She lashed it down in a cabinet and then blew out the flame before closing the cabinet door firmly. In the dark, her eyes adjusted slowly and she glanced towards her now darker bed. “I will come back myself when it is safe to untie you,” she told the obviously frightened blonde.

  Claire heard her leave the room. She was totally alone and it was very dark. She could hear crashes and bangs about the ship. She could feel it steadily getting worse as the waves rocked the ship to and fro. She began to feel ill at the sensation of being tied to the flat bed. She tried not to think about it and breathed deeply to quell her nausea. She could feel the ship rise up out of the water, climb waves, and then slam over the crest, only to rapidly slide down the other side. The thought of that made her feel ill too, and she worried about vomiting in the bed. Sometimes the wind made weird noises that she could almost feel in her bones, like a spirit screaming-her nightmares were coming to life! Her fear of drowning in the ship increased and she began to cry. She sobbed for hours and no one could hear her. She screamed, but no one answered her. Occasionally she could hear shouts, but was not certain if they were the wind making the noise or the men fighting the storm above her on deck.

  At some point, between fatigue and sheer terror, she must have passed out. She did not remember feeling tired, but suddenly she was waking up and the storm had lessened somewhat. It was almost lighter in the room too, but she could not really tell with the shutters drawn against the glass. She lay there a long time wondering at the passage of time. There was no way to tell and soon she could feel the waves hitting and battering the ship again from a different direction almost, she was not sure. It just seemed to go on and on unceasingly and her nausea was increasing. The thought of lying in her own vomit horrified her.

  She must have passed out again because it was completely dark when she awoke the second time. She had no sense of time at all. There was no way to gauge since it was dark or darker each time she had woken. It must have been a while though, as she realized she needed to use the chamber pot. The more she thought about it, the more the need increased. Her nausea abated as she worried about soiling herself instead. She was very relieved when she heard the door open, but that changed to terror as she looked over to see a hulking body creeping into the room. Tied down, she had never felt more helpless. She remembered that some of the men had not treated her the same as others, giving her a decidedly uncomfortable feeling. That feeling returned now as she watched the shadow coming furtively into the room, closing the door behind him.

  The horror she had felt with her fear of drowning if the ship went down was replaced by the panic she was now feeling that she was defenseless, could not move, and knew her screams would not be heard over the noise of the storm. It was still so dark, but his figure was darker, and she could make it out as he oriented himself in the room. She heard him swear foully when he ran into the table. She held her breath, hoping against hope that he would not realize she was lying there helpless. It was a foolish thought because obviously he knew that the captain was otherwise engaged or he would not be here in the first place. Claire’s impression had been that no one fooled with what the captain had claimed. Frank had emphasized that when he showed her below decks where they kept their stores and cargo. An entire room had been set aside for the captain’s lot and it had a heavy padlock on it. She had not seen into it, but had wondered what was behind the door.

  The shadow was now looming above the bed and a sulphur match flared momentarily. Claire could see the unsha
ven face and the smile that lit up his face showing browned and blackened teeth. Long, greasy, and tangled hair emphasized his unkempt appearance. He stared down at her hungrily, his eyes gleaming in the small flame. The ship rocked horribly with the storm and he was thrown against the bed, the match burning his fingers. His swearing was loud in the room despite the noise of the storm. She stared up where his shadow hovered over the bed. The ties that held her lashed to the bed felt tight against her even though the captain had made sure she was comfortable.

  “Ahhh, my pretty-I knew you and I would need to get better acquainted,” he said, and because of the dark it seemed more ominous.

  Claire’s thoughts were decidedly frantic. She had no idea what she could do to stop him. She felt more helpless than she had the other day on deck. It was then that she remembered this man from the other day; he had been one of them surrounding her and grabbing at her clothes. The horror of that moment returned and overrode the fear from the storm. She thought of screaming again, but he must have read her mind as he leaned down and started snuffling around trying to find her mouth in the dark. She could smell his fetid breath and his hands began to roam on her supine form. It was invasive. As bad, if not worse, than what she had felt up on deck with everyone watching. He could do...anything to her and there was nothing she could do to stop him. He groped her breast painfully as his mouth found hers and he plunged a disgusting tongue immediately inside her mouth before she thought to close it.

  “Nooooo,” she whimpered, knowing that he would not care and no one would hear her anyway. The storm was too loud.

  Just then there was a crash and the ship heaved to the side, throwing him on top of her.

  “Ahh, you feel even better than you look,” he said, delighted, as he started grinding down on her and fumbling with her clothing. It was difficult with the bindings holding her body to the bed, and he was having difficulty trying to see in the dark as he groped with her clothes and body. “God damn it, can you not give me some help?” he asked, exasperatedly.

  She was incredulous. Not only was he intent on raping her, but he expected her to help? She could not believe it, as the ship took another heave and nearly unseated him. His return knocked the breath out of her with a whoosh, as he held down her body and crushed her with his. His hands were fumbling with her skirts, trying to pull them up, and she heard the anger in his impatience.

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” she heard him mutter, and then he stiffened suddenly. She wondered if he was going to try something else, but instead he slowly got off her and the bed. A match flared and lit a candle attached to a bowl on the table. Both were attached, and she had wondered about that before, but was grateful to see it now. In the light from the candle, she could distinctly see the glimmer of a sword holding the man by its point. He stood there, his breath heaving from his exertions, the ship still rocking, and his legs spread wide to counterbalance its effect.

  Tina did not say a word as she held him at arm’s length, further extending the distance between him as the sword’s point hovered between his neck and his crotch. She examined him in the small light that the candle gave off. There was a knock on the door behind her. The door opened as she shouted over the noise about them, “Come in.” The cook came through the door with a small tray and sandwiches; he bounced against the doorframe painfully and looked up to see the captain holding one of his shipmates at sword point. “Fetch a couple of blokes will you, Geoff?” she asked, conversationally, a little loud over the waves crashing against their hull.

  “Look, Captain, you’ve got to understand,” the greasy-haired pirate began as Geoff quickly and quietly put the tray down on the table and ran out of the room without question. She flicked between his neck and crotch again to silence him, the swish more for effect than anything else. His hands were straight out from his body, showing he had nothing in them, but his eyes were bugging out of his head from her quick sword play. He looked a wee bit nervous as she continued to look at him, her sword speaking for her as she waited, her eyes like stone. He jumped when the tray that Geoff had brought in slid off the table from the sway of the ship.

  Soon, two swarthy sailors entered the room, making it feel smaller with their hulking presence. “Take this...” she hesitated over the word, “garbage to the brig,” she ordered. The men did not hesitate, her command instantly obeyed. Each took an arm to drag their protesting shipmate out the door.

  “I did not do anything; I barely touched ‘er!” he was yelling over the noise of the storm.

  Tina watched him, dispassionately, as they dragged him out of the room. Slowly, she lowered the sword and then looking around the dark room, lit only by the single flame, her eyes lit on the tray of food that had fallen off the table. “Replace that will ya, Geoff?” she asked, kindly, almost conversationally, none of the anger she was feeling apparent in her voice as she nodded towards the tray.

  Geoff quickly scrambled for the tray and the food that was spread all over the floor. He fell to his knees repeatedly as he attempted to keep his balance on the heaving ship. Tina looked around the room and saw that nothing had moved, as everything was well battened down. She waited until Geoff had left the room and closed the door behind him to approach the bed, sheathing her sword before she sat down on the edge.

  “Are you all right?” she asked Claire, trying to look down on her lying there. She could barely see her in the light from the table. She began to untie the lashings holding her to the bed.

  Claire looked up at the ceiling and swallowed. In the past few days, men had tried to rape her twice. ‘All right’ did not quite cut it. She lay there until her lashings were completely untied and allowed Tina to help her sit up.

  “Are you all right?” the captain repeated. She wanted to take the smaller blonde woman in her arms, to comfort her, but knew Claire would only resist her at this moment. Tina had arrived to make sure she was fed, having left the wheel to her first mate James. After several days of fighting the storm, she was exhausted, and while she had thought of Claire frequently, she had to battle with the elements to keep her ship afloat with this fierce storm.

  Claire looked around and suddenly reached under the bed for the bedpan.

  Tina backed up just in time as Claire threw up what little was left in her stomach. She stared, horrified, as the distinctive odor rose in the room. Holding her hand to her nose, she rose to put distance between her and the offensive odor. She could hear the retching noises behind her as Claire continued to vomit. Obviously there was nothing left in her as she made dry, heaving noises.

  By the time Claire felt well enough to keep her stomach under control, she noticed the captain holding out a small mug to her. Thirsty, she gratefully accepted it, and without thinking, rapidly gulped it down. She nearly threw it up just as quickly. The burning of the alcohol went all the way down to her churning stomach. The ship lurched and she felt like her body went the opposite way from the spirits she had just imbibed. The burning soon turned to heat and she gasped as she attempted to talk and nothing came out. Staring into the mug as though she had been poisoned, she swallowed hard to keep it down, but was not sure if it was trying to come back up or burn back down. The heat was spreading.

  Her voice finally returned and she gasped, “What was that?”

  “Whiskey,” Tina answered. It had been amusing to watch the reactions of the blonde. She thought perhaps that spirits were necessary at this moment; Claire had looked a little shocked.

  “Water,” she gasped, but Tina was ready for that and held out another mug. Cautiously, Claire looked into it this time before sipping at it carefully. The flavor, or rather lack of it allowed her to take a gulp to wash away the taste of the whiskey. Her stomach was not roiling anymore, but she definitely was not feeling well. She felt a little dizzy, but some of that could be attributed to the rocking ship.

  “Are you all right?” Tina asked, for the third time.

  Claire looked up and looked at Tina in the small light from the flickering candl
e. She effortlessly held her balance as the floor heaved to and fro. Her legs spread and it was obvious her stance was effected to keep her from falling as the waves hit the ship. It was then that Claire realized Tina was drenched and standing there before her. The sense of what she had just said finally penetrated her befuddled mind. “All right?” she asked, timidly.

  “Did he hurt you?”

  Something about the tone of her voice made Claire look up. She could not quite see Tina’s face clearly, the light was not enough, but something was there, something ominous. “I am all right. He could not access...” she started to say and then something struck her. She had been saved...by Tina...once again. The incredulity of the moment, and the tension, made her start to laugh hysterically.

  Tina stared at her, wondering if she should slap her-or just let her be. She chose the latter, but it went on a wee bit too long and began to make her feel uncomfortable. Finally, it wound down, and just as she was about to speak to the woman there was another knock on her door. “Come in,” she called, relieved to be interrupted. She was feeling very uneasy around the blonde, but considering what she had been through recently, perhaps it was best she broke down now.

  “Sorry, Capt’n, had the devil’s own time making another meal for you,” Geoff apologized as he brought in the platter and went to place it on the table.

  “Wait,” Tina called as she stood up to take it from his hands so it would not slide off again. “I will take that,” she told him.

  “You need anything else, Capt’n?” he asked, respectfully.

  “Make sure the brig is secure,” she said warningly, and with a look he could barely see in the faint light.

  He nodded understandingly and left, closing the door behind him.

  “Come here and eat,” Tina commanded Claire, who had sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I need to change,” Claire said in a small voice barely discernable over the roar of the storm.

  Tina shrugged, wondering if Claire felt dirty from having that pig’s hands on her and then realized, as she began to unstrap her trunk, that there was a wet stain down the back of her dress. “Do not untie that, use my robe,” she told the blonde instead. All she needed was for a loose trunk to go flying and hit one of them, breaking a bone, or going through the windows at the back of the room.