by kinkys_sis and kinkychic
THE TAVERN
I had been a serving girl. I was lucky to have work. Many did not. That day the tavern was bursting at the seams, as several privateers and, quite possibly, a few pirate ships were anchored in the harbour. I could hardly see through the pipe smoke, and the noise was deafening.
I heard someone shouting for me over the din. “Girl – where the fuck are you? Fetch me another jug! A man could die of thirst here!”
The voice came from a nasty brute of a man I’d been trying to stay away from. The day before, he’d got his hand up my skirt and grabbed me by the pussy while I had poured his beer. I had dared not protest. It would have done me no good, and the proprietor would most likely have thrown me out on the street, something I dreaded more than putting up with the feels.
I fetched the brute his rum, and he growled at me. “Took long enough, wench.” He peered a bit closer. “How old you, girlie?”
I struggled to get my tongue working in the face of my terror. “Twelve, sir.”
He got his hand up my skirt again, grabbing hold of my arse. “Twelve? Lovely, just what I likes.” His fingers pressed in, almost forcing my knickers into my bumhole. I trembled with fear and shame. Pee trickled down my legs.
He roared at me. “Dirty little bitch, you pissed yourself!” His other hand came up and whacked me across the face, I went flying and crashed to the floor. Then I saw him walking towards me. I grabbed for my knife and held it out in front of me, though I was scared out of my wits.
His foot lifted as he roared at me. “Pull a knife on me, would you?” I waved the knife towards him but then saw the foot swinging. I curled into a ball waiting for the kick to land. But it never came. Instead, there was a sudden quiet. I uncovered my eyes and saw him standing over me, his foot still raised. Why hadn’t he kicked?
Then I saw the knife at his throat, pressed hard enough to produce a thin trickle of blood. His eyes bulged even as his fists clenched.
Looming behind him was a giant of a man. “Don’t move, friend, or you be dead. You choose.”
The brute relaxed and the man behind spoke again. “You be sittin’ down an’ drinkin’ your jug. Touch the girl agin’ an’ I kill you.” He took the knife away and stepped back a pace. My assailant turned to face him, clearly ready to fight. But when he finally beheld the man who had saved me, the sight gave him pause. My saviour was a long way over six feet, and all muscle.
The brute shrugged his shoulders. “Dirty cow anyway, not worth my trouble.” He sat back down and took up his drink.
Huge hands helped me up. I was frightened, but his smile was friendly. “You all right, miss?”
I nodded, though my face was sore. “You go get clean,” he said.
“I can’t. I’ll get thrown out if I don’t do my job.”
It was at that moment that the landlord grabbed my arm. “You’ve already lost your job! Out! Go!” He spun me around and pushed me hard towards the door, I stumbled and fell again to the floor.
I turned my head just in time to see the giant’s granite fist hit him square on the chin. His whole body lifted off the floor before crashing down on a table, which shattered under his weight. He lay still in a cloud of dust.
My giant came, took my hand and pulled me to my feet. “We go now.”
I squinted in the bright sunshine outside and gulped in fresh air, walking alongside the giant, who still held my hand.
“Where you live, miss?” he asked me. “I take you home.”
“I sleep on the street,” I told him.
“No home – how can that be? Where’s your mama and papa?”
In a quiet voice, I said, “They died in the Yellow Jack.”
“Oh, sorry. Many good souls gone to that curse. Better bein’ at sea than this ’ere hell.”
“Are you a sailor then?” I asked.
“You might say. I been at sea since I was your age. Spell in the navy afore I ran, not that I meant to. It was a sorta accident like. Now I crew on a privateer.”
“Are you the captain? You must be!”
He laughed, “Me, a cap’n? I’m too stupid to be a proper officer, but I am the bosun.”
I pulled him to a stop. “What’s your name?”
“Me? I’m called Big Davy.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Big Davy. I’m Brenda. And I don’t think you’re stupid.”
“That’s as may be, Little Brenda, but what’re we gonna do with you? I ain’t ’appy you bein’ on the street.”
At that moment, a breathless sailor came running up. “Davy, you best get aboard. The provost been down the tavern. You killed ’im. Stone dead ’e is. They’ll be lookin’ for you.”
“Davy, you gotta go fast before they come looking.” I said, but he showed not the least concern.
“I can’t be leavin’ you ’ere all by yourself,” he said, and as he stood there, I could almost hear his brain churning over. “You got any other clobber? Can you dress like a boy?”
“Yes, I’ve got some clothes hidden, but why would I want to look like a boy?”
“You want, you kin come with me aboard. You wanna go on a ship? But girls ain’t allowed. No one kin know.”
I didn’t need to think, not for a second. It was a God-given chance to get away from the hell I was stuck in. “Yes, sir, I can be a sailor.”
He looked sternly at me. “Now you listen, an’ listen good. It ain’t no easy game, miss. They’s rough men. They find out you a girl, you be in big trouble. You gotta understand that. An’ no more games, gotta be serious like. An’ I ain’t no sir. You call me Bosun.”
“I understand, Bosun,” I said, feeling deflated. “Let me get my things.”
In a few minutes I emerged from the alley where I’d changed into a shirt, loose trousers, and a wide belt to keep everything in place. Davy looked at me and nodded. “Good. Only problem is that girlie hair. Gotta cut that.”
Reaching behind his back, he produced his evil-looking knife and started slicing without a word. The blade must have been razor-sharp the way it went through my locks. Davy stood back and surveyed his work. “Guess that’ll do it.”
He saw the knife tucked in my belt. “You know how to use that thing? If not, hide it or you invite trouble.”
“Don’t worry, I know. I learned good on the streets.”
“If you say so. Come on, let’s go. – Hold on, what we gonna call you? Best make it close to what you got already.”
“They call me Bren, so how ’bout Brendan. Will that do?”
“Hey, you quite clever, methinks. Okay, Bren. Let’s go find the jollyboat an’ get outta ’ere.”
We arrived at the quayside, where a number of small boats were tied up. Davy pointed to one in which a sailor appeared to be fast asleep. He sat up with a start when Davy threw my bundle between the thwarts.
“Have to go quick, Josh. Been a spot of trouble. I needs to get aboard.”
The sailor peered at me. “Who be this young fella, Davy?”
“This ’ere’s Brendan. Wants to sail with us an’ I said I’d ask the cap’n. Got some guts, this little un ’as.”
The boat seemed to fly across the water as Davy’s huge muscles bulged with the effort of rowing. The two-master he aimed for loomed larger by the moment. It looked majestic to me, and it appeared to be powerfully armed. Not that I knew anything about ships’ guns – not then anyway.
The captain seemed to take a liking to me, and he said I could stay. I’d replace the powder boy who had been killed in a recent fight with a French sloop.
“And that’s all, really,” I said at the end of my tale. “I like it here, even if I can’t be found out. I am treated well enough, and the captain has taken an interest in teaching me. Davy, too, of course.”
Tears glistened on Marianna’s cheeks as she held my hand firmly. Isabella looked mournful as well. “Extraordinario. Quite remarkable.”
She appeared to come to a decision. “Tell me, Bren, when will we reach Barbuda?”
“Three days if the weather holds.”
“And then your captain will seek his ransom, which will be at least another three days.”
“Yes,” I said, though I didn’t really know how these things worked.
“So, let us say five days then – or, I should say, five nights – before I have to think of facing my husband again.”
I didn’t understand her meaning, but she hadn’t finished. “Would you prepare for bed? Have your wash and then … we will be waiting for you to join us.” She rose to her feet. “Come, Marianna, let us ready ourselves for a visitor.”
The expression on my face must have been a corker. “Are you shocked?” she said. “My husband is an ogre, and my daughter and I have long since sought solace with each other. It is our greatest pleasure – our only pleasure – and we would share it with you. Please make sure the door is locked and the skylight is properly closed.”
My brief interlude with Marianna had been wonderful. But still, it had left me uneasy – not about her, but about myself. How could I be so enamoured of a girl? And yet, I now realised that I had never had such feelings for any of my crewmates. My only experience with men had been the disgusting louts at the tavern. Perhaps they had turned me away from their sex entirely.
These questions were beyond my understanding. It was pointless even trying to understand. Marianna had awakened something in me, and there was no doubt that I liked it.
I also felt like a fool, for it was plain that when Marianna told me she had never kissed anyone but her mother, I had wholly misunderstood. I’d imagined loving, maternal pecks at bedtime, of the sort my own mother used to give me. But Isabella had just revealed that she and her daughter were lovers, and she was inviting me into their bed. I found I was trembling – though not with fear.
My heart lifted. Suddenly I felt happy. I rushed to wash myself. All the while, I felt a strange tingle, like an itch, between my legs.
I didn’t own a nightshift. We sailors usually slept in our clean clothes for the next day – those that bothered to wash them, that is – and of course, I had to remain covered in front of the men. It felt strangely unnatural, after all this time, to reveal myself as who and what I really was. My bravado deserted me, but I went through with it, leaving my shirt, my trousers, and my chest bandage – which I now hated – on the cabin floor. Isabella saw, approved, and pushed the bed covers down. She and Marianna studied my face as I gaped at their beautiful, naked bodies.
Isabella chuckled. “Our girl is shy, Marianna. What should we do?”
Marianna reached out and took my hand. She suddenly pulled hard, and I found myself falling between them.
“First, a favour. Will you tell us your real name? I promise that it is safe with us.”
“Brenda,” she repeated when I had told her. “That is so very English but I like it.”
Marianna’s hands moved to my tits as Isabella whispered to me. “I will kiss our lovely Brenda. Then we will show you how we make love.” Her lips met mine. A soft caress, then a wonderful, full kiss. It was no different than Marianna’s, and, if my eyes had been closed, I would never have known the difference.
Marianna teased my left nipple. The fingers twisting the other must have been Isabella’s. I almost squealed at the brush of hair across my tummy. I had always been ticklish there. But then I felt the warm lips touching here and there, and a tongue trailing over my tingling flesh.
Marianna’s lips descended to my sparse patch of curls. I was surprised at her boldness, so close to my pussy. Was it a coincidence that when Isabella suddenly squeezed my breast – and quite firmly – I also felt hot breath between my legs? I froze, startled by this shockingly forward behaviour. How could she stand to put her face there?
Then she kissed me, right on my pussy lips. I reflexively went to push her away, but she, just as reflexively, smacked my hand. We both had to laugh.
Something warm and soft pressed into me, opening me up. My mind reeled at the thought of her putting her tongue into me … there.
Then came the most divine sensations I had ever felt. Her tongue went deep, slithering through my insides, thrilling me with the wonder of it. Her fingers pulled me wide, her lips bore down, and her body edged between my legs, spreading them further apart.
Now, though, the shock was over. I was loving these new feelings too much. I raised my knees to let her in. Her tongue went higher and this time, I knew just where she was bound. Her fingers had been magical earlier, when she had played with my little button. Now – oh God! She aroused it with her tongue, circling and teasing. In only seconds, my body came alive to this new experience.
Even as she sucked me, her fingers pushed into me once more. She went straight to thrusting them in and out. I could even hear the sloshing noise her fingers made as they ploughed through the wetness pouring out of me.
My back arched, my muscles trembling, and yet, for all the insanity, the loss of control, my mind was strangely focussed, urging on the eruption in my pussy. Isabella knew what was coming. She took a nipple between her teeth, lingered a moment, then bit quite hard. And that’s when it happened. Something impossible for me to comprehend. Joy … lust … a cyclone of feelings, all them new to me.
I was fully aware of Marianna sucking me, and her fingers pumping, as I spasmed. Isabella was now whispering in my ear, although I couldn’t understand a word she said.
It was a night I would remember forever. Not only was I loved by these two beauties, but I learned quite a bit about myself. I learned, for example, all about my clit and the joy it could bring.
I discovered how to drive them mad as well, as I knelt between them and massaged both of their clits at the same time, and the power I exercised upon exploring the wet, warm depths of their pussies. Even as they climaxed, kissing one another the whole time, I was attentive to the difference between Marianna’s tight slit to Isabella’s full lips.
It was a night of wonder and revelation. It was also the first time in my life that I gave my heart. I loved both of these women.
***
I awoke to the sound of the ship’s bell, feeling happier than I could imagine. But I was also drained. I had come so many times in the night that I’d lost count. I looked fondly at Marianna and her mother as they slept and felt the now familiar tingle starting again between my legs, but, resisting it, I climbed from the cot as gently as I could.
When I had washed and dressed, I fetched the spare key, which I had left on the table, and went out on deck, locking the door behind me. The sun was just brightening the horizon. The sea looked beautiful, with small waves and gentle swells, and the breeze just strong enough to fill the full spread of sail we were carrying.
Davy came over to me. “You lookin’ tired, Matey. Not sleepin’ well?”
I laughed. “No, I didn’t sleep too much.”
He gave me a strange look. Maybe he sensed my good humour, or perhaps I’d spoken too enthusiastically.
The top lookout shouted down. “Sail away, dead astern!”
The first mate came rushing up the companionway and put a glass to his eye, sweeping the horizon.
“Can you see her, Bosun?” I asked, using his proper title, the mate being so close.
“Me? My eyes is useless.”
The mate shouted with an ear-splitting roar. “Clear for action. Bren, fetch the captain, on the double.”
I nearly knocked the captain back down the gangway as he emerged onto the deck. “What can you see, Chambers?” he called to the first mate.
“Not sure what she is, sir. Can’t see her colours. But she’s under full sail, and closin’ on us fast.”
The captain checked the sail we were carrying. “Break out the forestaysails,” he ordered. I hadn’t seen these used before, but I knew that two of them ran from the bowsprit to the foremast, adding a vast amount of sail.
The sails were soon hauled aloft. They were a sight to see, billowing out to the side and front. It was as though the Siren knew what was expected of her. She was being asked to run free, and she did.
The helmsman was ordered to turn two points away from the wind. This brought more of the breeze into the square sails than running close-hauled. We were noticeably picking up speed.
The officers watched the strange ship for what seemed ages. “She’s not gaining on us now, Chambers,” the captain said. “Looks to be a privateer to me. If this wind holds as it is, we’ll outrun her, all right.”
A brig like ours couldn’t carry full sail in too strong a wind, whereas the following ship, being much larger, with far stouter masts, probably could. If the breeze freshened too much, she’d catch us.
The captain stood us down from quarters, allowing the hands to go to breakfast. The chase continued all day. Occasionally, the ship appeared to gain on us, but then she’d drop away again. The god Aeolus was on our side, it seemed.
As darkness fell, the captain tacked the ship back to our original course. As soon as there was no longer enough light to see our pursuer, he called to “darken ship”, then tacked again. We were now on a completely different heading than we had been that morning.
The games were over, at least until daybreak, when we would find out if the captain had out-foxed the hunter.
I went below to see my ladies, whom I hadn’t visited all day, knocking three times before I unlocked the door. This was our signal. Marianna flew to me, hugging me tightly as soon as the door was closed. “What is going on?” she asked. “We saw a strange ship, and we were ordered to black out the cabin.”
I told her of our pursuers, and that we were safe for the time being.
“You must be starving,” she said. “I have prepared a meal for us. It won’t be long.”
Isabella handed me a glass of wine after I had washed. “Sit, Brenda, you look quite tired. I think you have been working too hard.” Her eyes sparkled at her jest.
They had properly covered the stern windows and lit just one candle. I studied Isabella by the flickering light. I judged her to be no more than thirty, and probably younger. She must have married at an early age. Her features were classically Mediterranean – aristocratic, yet not haughty. Her eyes, like Marianna’s, were deep pools of mystery and romance.
Above all, it was her hair that fascinated me. Never had I seen a woman with such long, thick tresses. I could not help but reach across and plunge my fingers into their dark, luxurious depths.
Marianna came back and stood at her mother’s side. It dawned on me once more that I really did love them both, but it was Marianna who had truly won my heart. If only I could escape this life and run with her someplace far away. But I knew it was quite impossible.
I was at a loss for words. All I could think to say was, “I will miss you both. I will never forget you.”
“Nor shall we forget you,” Isabella said. “You promised to keep us safe and you have. Your captain does not seem to be such a bad man, for a pirate. But you – you did more than look after us. You gave yourself to us, and we still have four more nights to enjoy together. I think perhaps, we will yet give you much more to remember us by.”
I saw little point in trying to explain the difference between pirate and privateer. Besides, many would argue that privateers were simply licensed pirates. The Siren had indeed been a pirate ship, but her black flag was now stowed away. We were permitted to attack French shipping, or any ship found to be breaking the blockade to the mainland. It was the latter point that we tended to stretch somewhat, as we had done with the Spanish merchantman.
We all knew that it wouldn’t be long before we were at war with Spain. It is, in fact, what we were hoping for. At this moment though, war was the furthest thing from my mind.
Isabella laughed, “Our Brenda appears to be in a hurry to finish her food, Marianna. Do you think, perhaps, that she’s keen to take us to bed?”
I stopped chewing as Isabella pulled Marianna to her. The girl stood between her mother’s legs, leaning in as their lips came together. The older woman’s hands caressed the bare flesh of her daughter’s shoulders.
Then the hands slipped down her back and over her rear. The fingers took hold of her dress and slowly began to pull it up. I glanced up and saw Isabella’s eyes were fixed on mine. I could see the sparkle within and knew she was having fun teasing me.
The backs of Marianna’s legs came into view. Still, the dress went higher. I was entranced by this lewd display. Her slender backside was slowly revealed, and I found myself struggling to control my breathing.
Isabella tucked the dress up, giving her hands the freedom to roam her daughter’s gorgeous cheeks. I gave an audible gasp as she pulled them apart and exposed the puckered entrance to her arse.
Quite suddenly, Isabella laughed. “I do believe our lovely pirate is getting aroused at the sight of me playing with your pompis. Time for bed. Don’t you agree, my sweet?”
On to Chapter Three!