The Pirate's Witch

by Candace Smith

  She gave a humiliated sob. His tongue stroked her clit and she bucked into him. “You like that, do you?” She shook her head frantically as he dipped his head again.

  She fought her orgasm for several more minutes, and when it finally ripped through her, she arched off the bed, torturing her bound breasts. Pale bruises were already coloring the raw skin where the ropes cut into her.

  Deegan stood and removed his pants. Monique wailed and shook her head as he knelt between her legs and rubbed his swollen cock through her cream. She felt the crown of the thick shaft center on her hole and begin to slowly enter, and she screamed as he pushed his length into her.

  “I see the fear and hate in your eyes. You thought your games were superior to mine, but I’m not one you can so easily manipulate again, girl. I am the one manipulating you, and I am going to make you grip me with desire while I spill into you. You are going to be bucking into me, trying to get me deeper, before I am done with you.”

  Monique continued to wail pitiful sounds as his finger began to work her swollen clit again. She had no control over her filled channel as it began spasmed grips along his buried cock. Her moans of despair filled his senses and he closed his eyes, bottom lip quivering with the exquisite pulls against his shaft. “Oh yes, you were worth waiting for, my witch.” As he had predicted, when the second orgasm ripped through her, she arched and bucked into him, screaming behind the gag as he continued to stroke her while he emptied into her. “Aaargh,” he groaned as he held her hips, plowing the last drop out of his cock.

  He collapsed down beside her and rolled a nipple. Latching two fingers onto the tip, he pulled and pinched until he was rewarded with her shriek. He looked into her frightened eyes. “I think you and I are going to have a very good life together.” He kissed her forehead and rolled over to sleep.

  In the morning, Deegan looked at the frightened girl, enjoying her quivers and trembles. He stroked his hardening shaft, and she whimpered when his smiling dark eyes turned to the appearance of a leer. “I think it is time to remove that gag.” As he untied it, his fingers stroked her cheek and he whispered, “You can scream if you want.” He kissed her temple when she moaned.

  As soon as the gag was removed, Monique gasped, “Please untie me, Deegan. It hurts so badly. I’ll do anything you say.”

  “Of course you will, Clarette.” He appeared to think about her proposal. “I think your breakfast this morning should begin with me. If you finish all of it, I will remove the harness.”

  Monique’s quivering increased as he released his erection from his breeches. She stared at the thick pink flesh and her stomach rolled at the thought of touching the purple-hued crown with her lips. Deegan lifted her to her knees and placed her between his spread thighs. “Anything I say, Clarette,” he reminded her.

  Slow movements had her bending towards him, and he fisted his hands in her hair and pulled her down. Kneeling in front of him, her wide eyes looked at the shaft that had speared her so roughly the night before. She hated him, and she hated this engorged beast inches from her face.

  The hand fisted in her hair continued to pull her closer, and she whimpered when her lips brushed across the tip, coating her with the small escaping drop from his slit. His other hand reached for the rope trailing from the harness and he began slowly pulling, tightening the bindings around her swollen bruised orbs. “If I feel the scrape of one tooth, I will rip them from your gums before lunchtime.”

  Monique groaned and reluctantly opened her mouth, with the fist in her hair guiding her up and down movements. “Suck me, little witch, or I’ll shove myself so far down your throat I will use your retching gags to cum.”

  Her whimpers vibrated off his shaft as he plunged her head up and down. It was marvelous, and he closed his eyes, determined to draw out the act as long as he could.

  The warm mouth surrounding him now was doing very little other than the motion he was forcing. She will get better. We have forever to work on it. He forced her head down and pushed past the back of her throat, and he felt the gripping force of her gagging throat while he watched her useless hands clench and open behind her. When he pulled her up she gulped air, and before she could beg, he plunged back down.

  “Yes, yes, that is it. Oh god, that is much better.” He began to dip her head faster. “Oh, oh, yes. Ah, that is good,” he gritted. With one final move, both his hands gripped her head and he thrust up into her, spilling his salty, sticky stream deep into her throat with jerking spurts.

  She inhaled and sobbed loudly when he retreated, and her stomach spasmed as she tried to vomit the mess up. Please, someone save me.

  He lifted her by the harness and dragged her over to the fire. He untied her hands and she laid them in her lap, cupping them over her naked pussy. The ropes on the halter began to loosen and she gasped as blood finally flowed unimpeded to her breasts. It stung painfully, but she stifled her scream. She begged, “Please, please don’t punish me anymore.”

  “You think you are being punished?” He laughed. “You are not being punished, Clarette. You are merely pleasing your companion, as you will continue to do as long as we are here.”

  “You hurt me,” she sobbed. “The things you do… they hurt me.”

  Deegan shrugged. “Genteel ways work for some people; they never have for me, though. As far as what you deserve, let us see. What do you deserve for drowning most of my crew? What do you deserve for cursing me and taking away the value of my plunders? What do you deserve for deserting me to exile on this damning island for centuries? Year after year, I have only the monotonous existence here, knowing I can never escape, and I can only look out to the sea with longing.” He gripped her chin and forced her tearing eyes to look into his. “And what do you deserve for leaving me? You, Clarette, are a well earned prize.”

  He’s insane, oh, my god. I can’t live like this. Her eyes widened as he approached her.

  Her frantic mind snapped and she rose quickly and dashed towards the path to the lagoon. Deegan caught her easily, and dragged her across the space. She found herself once more hanging from the tree with her arms bound painfully and pulled up behind her. Monique fought the contraption for several minutes, screaming in frustration behind the gag. The pirate ignored her and went about his chores.

  After three days of this treatment, Monique was reduced to a quivering wreck, jumping in anticipation of his less sadistic tortures to avoid harsher punishment that Deegan seemed more than willing to provide for her least failure. She began to understand he would always torment her, and her choices were simple: disobey and be tortured for his amusement, or do his bidding and be rewarded with her own forced aroused response to his torment. Monique began to crave the times when Deegan elicited excited, heated responses from her body, and she slowly became the complacent woman he desired.

  In the morning, Deegan had set the routine by hooking his finger through her collar to position her between his legs. She glanced up into his dark eyes to judge his mood, and would sometimes shudder while he twisted his hands in her hair and guided her towards his erection.

  She closed her eyes and filled her mouth, inhaling his musk with every plunge, and her mind sometimes wandered to her life before she became the plunder of a pirate. When this happened, her thoughts caused her attention to the oral service she was providing to slow to a quivering suckle, and she felt the hands on her head become more demanding. She would begin to pump his cock down her throat, and if her hands were free, she would manipulate his tightening sack until she felt his sticky essence jerk down her throat.

  On an afternoon when Monique had brought back a generous selection of the fruits she knew he was particularly fond of for lunch and prepared them to his specifications, he pulled her to the pond after they ate to cool off. He had knotted a line to the rocky over crop of the waterfall and raised her wrists so she was standing under the water. Monique instantly felt her heated passion beginning to consume her as he held her under the cool spray and reached under her b
ottom with his strong hands. She knew he would notice the slickness of her folds, and she continued to squeeze her eyes closed while her forehead rested against his wide chest.

  His fingers slid along her slit encouraging her arousal, while his other arm held her tight against him. A small whimper escaped her lips as her channel began to clench against his fingers. She no longer tried to hide her passion from him or deny her passion for him, and Deegan murmured into her hair, “Quiet, girl,” while his fingers continued caressing her slit. Monique’s hips began to slowly rock, and she felt the strain on her raised arms as his fingers worked her pussy, occasionally burying inside her as they passed.

  One arm held her still as the other hand’s fingers began to plunge, with his thumb stroking her swollen clit. Monique felt his thick cock enter her, as his fingers brought her closer to release. Her hands gripped at the rope binding her and, with her eyes still closed tight, she imagined herself running her fingers through his hair. The water coursed down their bodies in a cool, liquid caress, and they erupted together with gasps and groans.

  Deegan liked to tie her on the torturous rack while he fished, and look back at the sweating girl spread wide for him as a prize for his catch. It had been months since he had seen any of the rest of the pirates on the small island. They enjoyed their privacy with their unique proclivities, and Deegan found himself looking forward to meeting with them at the anniversary celebration, with his prize finally kneeling by his side.

  She was trained to be a compatible companion, and at times when her desire peaked, he was certain it was Clarette he was tormenting. The other woman’s memories were retreating to no more than a short whim in the span of her life, and this new emerging Clarette seemed to relish his tortures.

  Deegan found great enjoyment in having her facilitate his designs for his arousal. Once, when he brought her to the cave in the evening, he ordered her to prepare for punishment for some inane inadequacy she had performed.

  “Bend over the arm of the chair and stretch. I want you on your toes, Clarette, and holding the other side.”

  Monique trembled but did as he instructed, and when he reached between her legs he felt the pulse as she lubricated. His strong hand stroked her bottom. “Such a good little witch,” he chuckled.

  Tears spilled onto her stretched arms as she heard him walk over to the wall where he had arranged floggers and whips he had obtained from the cruiser Captain’s chest, with the canes he had added from the banks of the pond. “Spread your legs wider apart,” he ordered.

  She scooted her feet over so just a few toes reached the floor, and her hips rested on the arm of the chair. She heard the familiar whistle of the cane, a pressure on her thighs, and then the burn that caused her to wail. Deegan closed his eyes and savored the sound. He loved her screams and sounds of pain, and he walked forward and stroked her slit. It throbbed, and she pressed into his fingers.

  Her bottom clenched as she prepared for another strike. It whistled across her fleshy cheeks and she shrieked as her hips thrust into the hard wood of the chair. Deegan could see her muscles squeeze desire from her depths as it began to trail down the inside of her left thigh. His hand drew back, and another welt rose on her thighs while she screamed. Her cream was flowing freely now, and he knew one more strike would end her suffering. The welt raised on her bottom, and she wailed and gasped his name in passion. Deegan was ecstatic as he put the cane back and watched her back shake with her sobs.

  He removed his cock, which had been straining against his pants since he had watch her bend over the chair and display herself. Deegan stroked her a few times, centered his shaft, and plunged deep in one thrusting motion. She gasped and quietly sobbed as she gripped against him. She was perfect, he decided. It was as he was suspecting: Clarette was becoming aroused as she submitted to his torments, and she refused to let unconsciousness claim her and cause her to miss any tortures. They rocked into an explosive climax.

  Deegan had known from almost the first time he looked into her frightened turquoise eyes centuries ago, that she would learn to submit to pain. He helped her up and wiped the tears coursing down her cheeks. “Into bed, little witch.” He no longer feared her, because even if she could remember the magic, the pirate knew she would never again use the words against him.

  In the morning, before he rose, he knew he would have her dutifully finding his cock with her lips. She was always available in any position or restraint when he had need of her, and on most occasions he stroked her to her own passionate release, enjoying her gasps and moans and the convulsive gripping of her walls against his shaft. The routine and monotony of their days and nights were relieved by his creative sadistic uses for her, and Monique drifted to an existence of matching the passion in his eyes for what he devised. The light brush of his fingers across her breast, with the murmured, “Clarette, I have need of you,” caused a heated, wet, clenching response.

  Their routine was settled and quietly accepted, as Deegan had needs and Clarette supplied them. Close to the end of the first year, Monique woke to find Deegan gone. She panicked and rose, finally hearing quiet voices by the morning fire.

  “The brothers have come to terms with their women, and they give them decided leeway. The witch’s curse scared the hell out of them,” the voice chuckled. Monique realized it was the Quartermaster.

  “How is your redhead?” Deegan asked.

  “As predictable as that squall your witch drummed up on us. She keeps me busy, and must have a particular fondness for the cane,” Johnny laughed. “What I came to discuss with you, before we have our celebration, is the curious stories Peter has told me his girl has been reciting to him.”

  Deegan thought back to Marsha, and remembered how closely she observed the ship and the pirates when they were captured. She seemed to understand, more than the others, their circumstances.

  “Do you remember an unlikely sort named Jacques Cervais?” Johnny continued.

  “He was that inept sailor who tried to join with us,” Deegan replied. “Somehow, the fool ended up with his own sloop to Captain, and on his first trip out he tried to capture a Téméraire with his little ship and crew of ten. If I recall, he was the one captured, and hanged for his efforts,” Deegan shrugged.

  “Turns out, he was this gal’s relative, though in her account he managed two sails before meeting the gallows. That is why Peter pays only half a mind to the stories she tells. I am having trouble remembering some of the nonsense he has relayed to me, but you will want to be talking to him about some of it,” Johnny finished and rose. “I just wanted to give you a little background on how content your crew is. I will see you in a few evenings, Captain.”

  Deegan knew that Johnny was not going to tell him anything further, though his curiosity was peeked with his news about Peter and his woman. When Johnny left the clearing, Deegan smiled into the fire. He could sense Clarette’s presence by the cave wall. “Come, girl, give your pirate a proper welcome to the new day.” Monique quickly dashed to kneel by his side.

  For the next few days, she desperately wanted to ask Deegan about the celebration. She had no idea if the women were even brought to the event, but the thought of seeing her friends… the thought of seeing anyone else after the year… excited her. She wondered if the boat reappeared, though she gathered from Deegan it would be many more years before it returned.

  Deegan knew she was anxiously wondering about the upcoming event, but said nothing as it seemed to promote a most agreeable nature within her, albeit somewhat distracted. The day of the anniversary finally came, and was announced by Johnny loudly blasting a cannon shot across the island. It was a small six pounder that they had taken from a ship with plenty of ammunition.

  Deegan brought Monique to the pond and they washed up after their morning activities. Over the months, she had boiled different flowers and fruits to the soapberry tea, and now the shampoo had a delicate scent instead of the bitter residue it had when she first experienced the concoction. She carefully br
ushed out Deegan’s hair and then her own, and was practically quivering with excitement when Deegan rose and stared down at her.

  “You will kneel quietly by my side and do as I say, or you will be gagged and bound until the celebration is over,” he said sternly. He lifted her to her feet and stared into her wide eyes while brushing his thumbs down her cheeks. “And perhaps, if I am pleased with you, I will give you time with your friends.”

  Monique’s face broadened to a smile, and Deegan added as an afterthought, “I would not be telling the brothers you did not curse them. Apparently, they have been much more agreeable to their women.”

  Monique smiled up at him, content to share their conspiracy.

  Epilogue

  It had been a year since their capture, and a year since they had seen each other, and they knelt quietly in a circle with the pirates studying them. Deegan knew that they were anxiously waiting for his permission to speak freely with each other, and he deliberately drew out the moment... besides, Peter was telling him something Marsha had kept insisting since almost the day of the capture, and Deegan was trying to discover the truth. He finally asked Peter to have Marsha relay the story herself.