Right of Salvage

by Ashe Barker

  “Excellent. Then ‘Marmaduke’ will be your safe word, for this and in the future. If at any time I do anything to you that you really cannot bear, just say that word and I will stop. Always. Immediately. You have my word on that.”

  “Why? Why would you stop?” Her bewilderment was evident, her frown one of total confusion. “You wouldn’t have to. There would be nothing I could do…” Her breath hitched as the reality of their situation reasserted itself.

  He had no time to explain the delicate dynamics of power exchange to her now. At this moment, he needed to move her on.

  “You will understand all of this, in time. For now, just accept my promise. Believe me when I tell you, it’s in your power to stop me if I ever push you too far. Now, we should proceed.” Holding out his hand, he helped her to her feet. “Come here, Jane. Lay across my knees.”

  Obedient, she stood beside him in silence, contemplating for a few moments, before leaning forward and obligingly placing her upper body across his lap.

  “Is this as you want, Sir? I mean Rob.” She wriggled a little, still adjusting.

  “Yes, perfect. Are you comfortable?”

  “I would be, Sir, if I wasn’t so terrified.”

  Ah, not ‘Rob’ now then?

  He placed one palm on the small of her back, and with the other caressed her smooth bottom. She flinched at his initial touch, then relaxed under his hand. He contented himself with kneading her softly rounded buttocks at first, only advancing to dip his fingers into the crease dividing them when he was satisfied she was ready to accept his more intimate exploration. He waited for her to tense, to perhaps squeeze her thighs together, but she did neither. Encouraged, he slid deeper, down through her delicate, silken folds, and was delighted to discover the wetness already gathering. Terrified she might be, mortified with embarrassment, too, he had no doubt. But she was aroused, wet and ready for him. Fucking beautiful!

  He slipped one finger inside her. He was slow, infinitely careful, he wanted her to love this part. And she would, if he had anything to do with it. She clung to him, the walls of her pussy hot and tight around his questing finger. He pulled out, only to thrust back in, a little harder now. She gasped, he slowed, she tightened and squeezed. He thrust again, and with a low moan she parted her thighs to allow him greater access.

  He splayed his free hand across the lower curves of her delightful bottom, parting her buttocks to give him a clear view of her sweet, wet pussy, his middle finger buried within her. He withdrew it, his fingertip tracing the outline of her opening, the sensitive inner lips quivering as he trailed his finger across them. Then he used the pad of his thumb to stroke her, inserting just the tip inside her, making slow circles within her entrance while he reached with his middle finger to caress her clitoris.

  She screamed. Actually screamed out loud. He paused before murmuring just one word, “More?”

  “I don’t know. What did you…? Oh, my word—”

  Her frantic mumblings ceased abruptly as he plunged two fingers deep inside her, and used his other hand to pay homage to her clitoris. He rolled the swollen, sensitive nub between his fingers, as he continued to finger-fuck her. Hard now, in earnest, his intention to bring her to the brink of release before swatting her bottom to peachy red perfection.

  “Oh, God. What’s happening? What are you doing? I feel… I can’t… Please…”

  Her words changed his plans. Her confusion was apparent, unmistakable. Hurtling fast toward what was apparently her first orgasm, he knew he had to let her fly now. Delayed gratification meant nothing unless the reward to come was understood, the prize known. He angled his thrusts to ensure maximum contact toward the front of her quivering pussy, probing for her most sensitive spot and finding it. He pressed hard now on her clitoris, the friction building as she gasped and moaned and writhed on his lap. And suddenly, she stiffened, her body tensing as her inner muscles convulsed around his fingers. He didn’t let up the pressure on her clitoris, or deep within her, and felt every wave of her release as it surged through her.

  Her orgasm was quick, just a few moments at best, rushing at her, unstoppable. Her body was gyrating, shuddering under his hands as the sensations faded, and she lay still across his lap. Only then did he pull his fingers from her pussy, though he still held her buttocks apart to admire her swollen, red cunt. At last, she seemed to regain her senses, her awareness of her position, and his. And what he was looking at so closely.

  “I fear you may be staring at me, Sir. That is not very polite.”

  He smiled to himself at her impertinent attitude. A good sign, a sign of growing confidence, a sign that she was perhaps feeling safe after all.

  “I’m admiring you. Your pussy is truly the sweetest thing I have seen in a long time, Mrs Browne. I intend to become very well acquainted with it. You should know, too, I have no intention at all of being polite.”

  “Yet you will require me to be…?”

  “I will indeed. Might that be a problem for you, do you think?”

  “I— No, Sir. I do intend to try.”

  “Excellent. Because now you know what your reward will be. So we can move on, I think. Ten slaps should be sufficient to teach you a lesson in honesty and good manners. Are you ready?”

  Jane’s response came in the form of a sharp nod, and Rob made no further ado. His first spank, delivered to the crest of her right buttock, was hard and sharp and dragged a squeal of startled surprise from her.

  “Oh! Sir!”

  “Jane? Remember your kitten. Or lie still and accept. Your choice.”

  She went still. Unable to contain his wide grin, Rob delivered the next swat, and the next. Each one was met by a startled squeak. A squeal of pain, yes, but more besides. Excitement? Arousal? Acceptance? He reached five, and was delighted to see her beautiful arse now pinkening delicately. Ten would be just right. He continued, landing each stroke just below the last and alternating between her left and right buttocks. Jane was no longer squealing, though he felt the grip of her fingers around his ankle as she clung on to him. He would never have let her fall in any case, but if it helped…

  The final slap reverberated around the small cabin, then the only sound was Jane’s labored breathing. Rob let her lay still, caressing her delicate bottom with his palm. He was gentle but her skin was hot. Though she didn’t protest he knew she was sore. Not terribly so, but she had felt that spanking. And had weathered it perfectly. She was ready.

  He slid his fingers between her folds, delighting in the creamy moisture there. She was swollen, sensitive, hot. The sounds of her wetness, her readiness as he plunged inside again now took over from her earlier breathiness. His thrusts were efficient and quick, her arousal spiking again within moments. He slowed, withdrawing his fingers.

  “Sir, please.”

  “Yes, Jane? Please what?”

  “I’d like— Could you perhaps…?”

  “I’m sure I could. But you’ll need to tell me what it is you want from me now.”

  “I, I…”

  He circled her entrance, his movements slow and light but with devastating results.

  “Now, please, Sir. Fuck me. Now!”

  “Of course, my pleasure, Mrs Brown.” He picked her up, turning her in his arms to deposit her on his bunk.

  She lay still, regarding him through hooded eyes as he removed his boots, then shed his loose shirt and snug leggings. Her legs were bent at the knees. Splayed wide. She made no move toward decorum or modesty. Just waited for him.

  Her eyes might have widened a fraction as his cock sprang free, erect and solid. Even so, she arched her hips under him as he leaned over her, positioning himself between her thighs. She’d been married, she was clearly no innocent virgin, despite evidence that her previous experience of lovemaking had been a disgracefully one-sided affair. Perhaps her husband was an even bigger fool than he had at first appeared, or maybe he just didn’t care about his wife’s pleasure. In Rob’s view, either explanation was unforgivable
in a married man. He hooked one arm behind Jane’s knee, opening her wider then used his other hand to guide the head of his erection into her entrance. And there, he waited, poised. He looked at her, but her eyes were closed. He waited a few seconds more, then, “Jane. Open your eyes and look at me.”

  No response, so he repeated the instruction. His tone had hardened, he had her immediate attention. Her eyelids flew up, her beautiful gray eyes startled, momentarily apprehensive. He cursed inwardly—he’d have to watch that, at least until she became accustomed to him. She was easily frightened.

  “No mention of your kitten? You can, even now…” Please God, please, please, please…

  Her slight smile and shake of her head was all the signal he required. He sank balls-deep into her in one smooth stroke before settling his weight on both his elbows, arranged on either side of her shoulders. He waited for a few moments, allowing her to adjust, to stretch then clench around him, accepting him. He thrust, long and slow, his hard length filling her inch by inch, then withdrawing right to the tip. Her eyes were on his now, her pupils dilating as her pleasure mounted no doubt. Her pussy clenched around his cock, gripping him tight, the pressure of her arousal transferring to him. He felt every wave and pulse, every quiver and tremble, heard her breathy moans and incoherent muttering. Then she stiffened again, her back arching, her hips coming up to meet his as she sought greater intensity. His response was instant, providing what she needed.

  Rob fucked her hard now, his strokes long, straight, uncompromising. And she returned his thrusts, her hips seeking his as her delight built. She reached up, grasping his shoulders, her eyes tight shut now as she thrashed her head from side to side.

  “Oh, oh dear God! I can’t… It’s too…”

  “Come for me again, Janie. Let it go. Now.” His tone was still low, still warm and sensual, but shot through with that note of dominance he could tell she was starting to recognize. He commanded, she obeyed.

  Her release was more powerful than the previous climax, her legs now encircling his waist, her feet linked at his back. Raising her shoulders from the bunk, she buried her face in the front of his upper arm as her orgasm pulsed through her. With her inner muscles spasming, gripping him delightfully, he buried one last thrust deep inside her. As the sensations overwhelmed her slender frame, he felt every wave, every shudder as her body gave itself up to him, as she clung to him. Only when he was sure her final tremors were spent did he deliver one more quick, sharp thrust, then a second, driving deep inside her to reach his own climax. His balls tightened, his semen rushed forth, spilling into her.

  Both sated, still at last, he settled his weight on his elbows again to avoid crushing the small woman lying beneath him. Her face was turned to one side, her eyes still closed. He thought he detected the shimmer of tears on her lashes, though he hadn’t hurt her, or frightened her, he was sure of that. He lowered his face to nuzzle the delicate shell of her ear, nipping it between his teeth.

  “Jane? Look at me. Talk to me.”

  She turned her face, raised her eyelids to reveal deep gray eyes swimming with tears, though of genuine grief he could detect no sign. Her tremulous smile offered further evidence that all was well.

  “What would you like me to say?” Her words were murmured. She drew in a deep breath, through her nose, letting her eyelids drift down again.

  He quirked his lip, amused. “You could try that apology again.”

  Opening her eyes to meet his gaze, her voice was steady as she replied, “Very well, Sir. I do sincerely apologize for pretending to be asleep when you came to talk to me. I have learnt a hard lesson, and promise never to do such a thing again.”

  “Not such a hard lesson, I suspect, but still, prettily said, Mrs Browne. I accept your apology.”

  “There’s more, Sir.”

  “Indeed? What else would you like to say?”

  “I’d like to say thank you, Sir. That it was very nice. All of it.”

  “Even the spanking?”

  She hesitated a few moments, considering, before she finally responded, “Yes, Sir, even that.”

  Chapter Ten

  “We’ll be going ashore on Antigua in about ten days’ time. From there you can book a passage to the New World, and eventually back to England. I can provide you with sufficient funds to see you safe home.”

  We are lying on the bunk, still naked, entwined together. In two long years of marriage to Giles I never, not once, lay naked in his arms, but it seems the natural state to be in with Captain Rob Hawke. Or it did. Until he started talking about packing me off back to England.

  I push myself up onto one elbow, looking down into his face, his features now serious as he holds my gaze. My distress at being so summarily dismissed is almost palpable. He has just introduced me to sensual delights I never so much as imagined, and not ten minutes later it seems he’s already done with me. Humiliation, anger, disappointment, disbelief. All are warring within me for precedence. Disappointment wins out.

  “You’re sending me away? But why? I thought you said you wanted me. Was I…? Was what we did not…?”

  He smiles at me, raising his hand to brush the hair from around my face. “I do want you, Janie. And what we did was breathtaking. You are breathtaking. But I won’t hold you here against your will. I’ll take you to Antigua and from there help you to arrange passage back to your family in England. I assume you do have family, a home to go back to?”

  I nod. “Yes. In Cornwall. But…”

  “Cornwall. A beautiful part of England. I have a friend who lives close to Truro. You might know him, the Earl of Bodwick?”

  I gape at him. The Earl of Bodwick is a nobleman, for goodness sake. My father was a simple merchant. We were wealthy enough, prosperous even, but we did not socialize with Earls nor ever would. It seems I am in exalted company. However, my humble origins are not the issue here.

  “Why then? If you—liked me? Why are you sending me away?”

  “Liked you? Well, that’s one way of describing it, I daresay. I’m not sending you away. I’m offering to let you go. It was always my intention to give you your freedom, at the first opportunity. And that will be in ten days, on Antigua. If you choose it.”

  I frown, not sure if I’m understanding him correctly. “If I choose it? I have a choice?”

  “You do. Always. I want you to stay here, on the Lady Rose, with me. But that’s not all. You know now how it is, how it will be, if you do stay. I want you to surrender your delectable body to me, again and again, for my pleasure, and yours. I want to spank you, whip you, cane you. I want to tie you to my bed and fuck you. There will be a lot of fucking. Here too, in your tight little virgin arse.” He reaches down with his hand, his fingers sliding between my buttocks to circle my anus. “If you’ll let me. Will you let me do that, Janie?”

  I’m shocked, I never considered… Surely it’s not possible. As if to prove me wrong, he slips the tip of his middle finger, now slick from my own juices and his, inside my arse. I gasp, and he slides his finger out again, releasing me. Not for long though. He sits up, effortlessly tumbling me onto my back, then leans over me. He takes both my wrists in one of his hands. Pinning my arms above my head, he lowers his head to take my nipple in his mouth. He sucks, hard, then bites. He’s gentle, but I shriek, squirming under him, my desire already starting to mount but still I’m unnerved by this new approach.

  “Be still, Janie. You have your Marmaduke if you need him. Or you could just lie back and enjoy what I’m going to do to you. Soon. When we finish our little chat.”

  Ah, right. Our chat.

  He continues to hold me, pinned beneath him, but now he contents himself with just stroking my nipples, each one in turn. I do my best to concentrate but I confess it is not easy.

  “I think you may realize by now that pain and pleasure are difficult to separate sometimes. I can hurt you, I will hurt you, but still your pussy will be wet, dripping with desire. You’ll be my own little slut, only for me. Yo
u’ll desire more, crave more. You’ll do as I ask, and you’ll love what I do to you. You’re already starting to love it. Yes?”

  “Yes.” And as an afterthought, “Yes, Sir.”

  “What a fast learner you are, my beautiful Janie. So now you know, if you elect to stay, what you will be choosing. Of your own free will. I won’t keep you here by force, or by denying you the means to leave. You can leave at any time. You always will be able to. I’ll have your willing surrender, Jane, or not at all.”

  I gaze at him, my brain spinning. Freedom. The freedom to choose, to stay or to go. I could return to Cornwall, or presumably go anywhere else I might like instead. Or I could stay here, and become a submissive plaything to a handsome pirate captain. For as long as it suits me, then I could still go home to England. But not yet. Not quite yet.

  “I’d like to stay, Sir.”

  Rob nods, his smile sensual and warm. “I’m so pleased. But you need to understand the dangers too. Not from me, or my crew. You will come to no harm from us. But our occupation is a dangerous one, we risk injury, capture, death, every day. If the worst does happen, you will be presented to the authorities as our prisoner, and hopefully your rescuers will restore you to the bosom of your family. Just in case, though, I will give you a letter of introduction to take to the governor of Antigua, and I can guarantee that on receipt of it he will see to your safe passage home. That’s the best I can offer for your protection. Will it suffice?”

  Now it’s my turn to smile. Truly, I had not considered the perils of my new lifestyle, so I am relieved that he has. Not because I fear for my life—though probably I should—but because it indicates his sincerity when he promises to take care of me. In every way. I can trust Rob Hawke. I certainly intend to.

  “Yes, Sir. That will suffice very well indeed.”

  Chapter Eleven