Six Days in a Leaky Boat
“Oh no, there’s just no way you’re putting me up there!”
“I’m afraid you don’t get a say in the matter miss, this is a legally binding contract. He’s well within his rights to place you in any shipboard position he chooses,” the judge said to the young beauty. “You signed this contract in front of witnesses, and of your own free will, and then failed to hold up your end of the deal. And while I might find it morally reprehensible, the penalty clauses are set forth in a legal manner, and you are bound by your own signature to observe them. And they are only in effect until the end of this little sea battle.”
The Judge paused for a moment. He wasn’t too happy at having been dragged in to this case, nor did he appreciate missing both his morning golf game, and no doubt by the time he got home, his ringside tickets to the night's boxing matches.
With a deep breath he turned to the ship's captain, “According to contract, signed and witnessed, she is now your possession for the period of the battle or a total of six days, whichever is longer, to do with her as you please, sir.” Turning back to the young woman he leant in close and added, with nod indicating the waiting sailors, “If I were you, I’d think quickly about stripping off those clothes and complying with the captain's wishes, before those men get to make you.”
As she looked around in horror, the waiting seamen chuckled, they were hoping she did put up a struggle.
“Thank you your Honour, and if I may, a little something to cover your traveling expenses,” the captain answered with a bow, producing a small black pouch from under his long cape and gracefully passing to the judge.
“Gracious me. Thank you, Captain” the judge smiled and gave a nod when he found the pouch to be full of gold dust. “If you don’t mind, I must retire, my carriage is waiting and I must be on my way. Good day to you all.”
With tilt of his hat, the Judge stepped up inside his conveyance, and a dull ‘thud, thud’ was heard from outside before the driver slapped the reins against the four horses' flanks, setting them off down the road. As they disappeared around a corner, Leonora turned back to that captain and shivered under his direct stare.
“Please Captain, I beg you, release me,” she wailed, dropping to her knees.
“Not for all the gold in Blackbeard’s treasure. Yer mine now, and I mean fer yer to be useful to the morale of me crew. Now get rid o’ yer clothes and climb up thar!” he shouted, pointing to the prow of the ship, and it’s unusual carving.
Leonora gasped again at the sight of the thing, not having ever seen anything of the sort in her seventeen short years.
“Strip, Lass, or the boys‘ll strip yer fer me, and they won’t be as gentle as yer own hands, and certainly not as gentle as him,” the captain commanded, pointing at the carving.
With a final sigh, and starting to sob, she reached behind for the tie that held her dress tight at the waist. Leonora’s shoulders sank as the knot came loose before she ruffled up the skirt to pull the dress over her head and off. “But, where will I put my clothes?” she asked the captain, casting her gaze around for somewhere safe.
“With Davey Jones. ‘e’ll keep ‘em safe” the captain replied, sticking the dress with his cutlass, and slicing it to shreds as he sent it towards the water. “Prepare to cast off!” he yelled at his crew, sending them to work, while he and the officers watched and waited for the rest of her strip.
Though it hardly seemed possible, the girls shoulders seemed to droop even more as she began to ruffle up her pettycoat and underskirt, revealing that she wore nothing but her shoes and stockings under it, as it slowly rose up past her hips, sliding from her soft skin. Finally it lifted high enough and revealed her well formed breasts to the men. Once the under clothes were over her head and off in to the waves, the officers all smiled, waiting to watch her climb the prow and rest herself in the very special seat that waited for her.
“Capt’n, if I may, leave her boots and stockings,…” the first mate suggested.
“Aye, they make a pretty sight. Yer can leave it at that lass, now up yer go.”
Leonora’s tan skin showed the colour of her embarrassed blush to all present as she looked up at what waited for her. The Sweetest Surrender was the name of this privateer ship, and its name was reflected in its prow just as much as it’s task was in it’s sleek lines and oversized sails. All ships have carved figureheads, as much for luck as they were for tradition. They were meant to be able to see through bad weather and, at times, to guide the sailors home.
This figurehead was said to bring more luck than any other, as instead of a wooden angel, it required a living, breathing one. Now it was Leonora’s turn to be that Prow Angel. She would have to climb the ropes strung at the front of the ship, no doubt exposing everything to the sailors as she did, to join the carved man already in place.
“Move that pretty little arse o’ yers now, or the crew ‘ll be back to ‘elp” the captain said sternly, adding a flick from his crop to colour the cheeks of her ass.
“Yelp!” is the best description of the sound that came from the pretty girl’s mouth as she jumped from the sudden bite of the leather. She turned to beg once more, but resigned herself to her fate when the captain’s glare made it obvious she’d used her last warning.
Reluctantly she reached for the ropes and began pulling herself upwards. Several times she slipped and felt the coarse rope bite against her skin, twice scraping harshly across her firm youthful breasts. ‘My right nips gonna ache from that’ she thought, grunting as she banged it on another rope. It was already bruising as she twisted and turned to climb the last few feet to the carving.
The captain waited until she had fully exposed herself to those below as she worked to reach one foot right out to the last foothold before yelling, “Franklin! Get up there an’ strap ‘er in!”
“Aye aye Capt’n!” the cabin boy answered, seeming to appear from nowhere at the captain’s side just in time to look straight up at Leonora’s wide apart legs and the pink flesh of her pussy, with it’s lips slightly parted, giving the boy the best view of his life.
“Don’ get any ideas Franklin, after the ships done wit’ ‘er, there’s a long line of officers and crew before ye,” the captain called after the boy as he shimmed quickly up the ropes.
“Would you like a hand miss? the cabin boy asked, popping up in front of Leonora’s face so quickly that she startled and flinched, letting go of both of the ropes she held.
At fourteen years, Franklin had quick reactions, and shipboard life had given him good strength, so it was an easy matter for him to catch her as she began to fall. Just as it was easy for him to make sure one hand was full of firm ripe breast as he did. “Are you all right?” he asked, still cupping the breast as he steered the scared girl back upright.
“I, yes, I think” was all she got out in her fluster.
“Franklin...” the captain spoke from below, instantly rewarded with the removal of the hand and a quick “Aye sir.”
The next few moments were ones Leonora was looking forward to even less than having to strip on the dock. She had to get herself in to the ‘seat’ proffered by the carving, before letting the boy tie her in place.
The ‘seat’, the bar that would support her body, and the clasp that would secure her hands, were all part of the male figure's anatomy. At the top of the carving, one hand was shaped to look like it was holding the prow angel's wrists, as it would soon hold Leonora’s. Once swung in to place the right arm would be square across her ribs, a few inches below her breasts. The combination of where her hands were going, and the shape of the carving’s body, would make sure her youthfully firm breasts would be thrust out in front. Her nipples would be the forward most part of the hull.
The ‘seat’ itself was the carving's lap, including one very well polished wooden phallus. With the boy's help, Leonora’s legs were soon draped either side of the carving’s, her butt on it’s knees as Franklin guided her hands up to the carving's left hand.
The dull click as the latch closed on her wrists binding filled the teenager with dread, making her toss her bronze hair around as she began to panic again.
“Pull yourself up” Franklin instructed as he readied the right arm. There was another dull click as it locked in place, forcing Leonora to arch her spine, and push her butt back against the gut of the carving. She whimpered as she felt the head of the wooden phallus under her pussy. “Oh god, no, not like this…”
“Get it square under you. It’s been coated in fish oil to slip in smooth,” Franklin said off-handed as he climbed downwards a foot or two, ready to move her feet. This was the part he loved. As he lifted her left foot from where she, and those before her, had wedged it, her weight was shifted to her right, making her begin to bear down on the wooden cock. Franklin heard more whimpers as he settled the left foot in the slot hidden by a carved wave. He knew what was next, and had practised this part in his sleep. Making sure he could do it without taking his eyes off the pussy of whomever was in front of him.
With firm grip on Leonora’s right ankle, he pulled it clear of where she had rested it, jerking it out in to the air and putting the whole weight of her body on to the phallus. His young cock was always hard when he did this part, but today he got a surprise. When Leonora screamed at the sudden pain from her pussy being opened, and then invaded, Franklin shot his wad in to his pants from the excitement.
He was still shaking and spurting as Leonora slid down the wooden cock, her young hips rent open for the first time as her own light body bore her downwards, wedging her hips hard back against those of the carved man. She was stretched out, hanging from her wrists with her body arched around the carving, tits thrust out, and pussy forced open before the face of a teenage boy. Leonora sobbed from the pain and the embarrassment, but mostly because she’d never gotten to lose her virginity with a lover or husband.
Shock lifted her face to the lad when he looked above to the crew hanging over the railing and yelled “She bleeds!”
Leonora heard their cheer, but not the captain’s quiet “Aye, good luck for the battle.”
“Cast off, set sail for the horizon Mister Matthews” the captain ordered as he made his way from the gangplank to the deck. He was eyeing off Franklin as the boy crested the forecastle, wiping the smile from the boys face after he snatched a quick feel of the girl, a quick kiss and a promise to bring her water and food once they made open water.
From her position in the telescope room of the harbour’s lighthouse, twenty-something spinster Lisa Wallace watched as The Sweetest Surrender left port and headed for open sea. She sighed as she saw Leonora react to each wave’s impact on the prow, and the rise and fall of the swell pushing the hard shaft around deep inside the girl.
Lisa moaned as she played with her own pussy, her long skirts ruffled up around her waist and her bloomers pulled down to her knees.
“Why doesn’t he ever ask me to ride him?” she sighed, drifting in to her favorite daydream, of waves crashing across her bare skin, sunlight and salt bringing exquisite pain to her skin, before surrendering to sailors, officers, cabin boy and captain.
Another moan and she resolved to volunteer herself to the Captain the next time he was in port.
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