Tales of the Rope

Chapter 3: A Sandy Wench

Captain Blood didn’t like me from the first moment he saw me standing there on the quarterdeck, my head held high. He couldn’t see my trembling hands for they were tightly bound behind my back, but I doubt it would have made any difference. My fate was sealed the moment that bloody great black painted ship of his cut across our bow.

The fight was short and quick as the pirates swarmed over our decks, hacking and slaying with abandon. When it was finished, those worn wooden decks were awash in blood and the last survivors of our doomed ship stood before the terror of the seas. The pirates had found the other two girls hiding below and dragged them screaming and crying to stand trembling before the notorious Captain Blood himself. He had another name, I don’t remember it, but his cruelty and total disregard for human life had bestowed upon him the title of Captain Blood. From what I heard, he seemed to like it and tried to live up to it at every opportunity.

He was a bear of a man, tall and dressed in a mishmash of worn clothing. His beard was shaggy and black, as was his long hair. I remember a tiny cut on his cheek and wondered as I stood amid the smoke and cries of the dying who had delivered that tiny nick. Whoever it was, it had probably cost him his life.

Bodies were thrown overboard and our luckless ship looted to the keel while the other two girls and I stood awaiting our fate. When all else was finished, the pirates made a half circle around us, their faces eager with anticipation. But they held back while Captain Blood made an inspection of each of us. The first girl pleaded and dropped to her knees before him.

The second girl smiled and said how good she was and how she would make a good woman for a captain.

in his

who savagely tore her clothing apart and tossed her onto the dark-stained wooden deck. They

hand, revealing rather large breasts. The captain seemed pleased, and ordered her hauled off to his cabin and lashed to the

and unable to get at the first through the press of their crewmates, drew closer to me. One was drooling.

In that one long, terrible second my fate was decided.

bound at the ankles with rope. Many rude hands picked me up and carried me towards the side of the ship. I feared they were going to toss me overboard, in which case I would surely drown with my hands and feet bound. But at the

the boat and dumped on a beach. I remembered that there had been some small islands we were passing when attacked. With many a crude comment about women in general and me specifically, these dirty killers dug a

expensive clothing, rudely and painfully pulling the fabric from my body. Bit by bit, my coverings gave way, exposing my

that men lust after and other women hate. My large breasts are perfect in shape. My hips slender and my legs long. My tummy is very