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*It’s the mid-1700s and the Queen of Spain has hired privateers to prowl the Atlantic for fresh British prey. Infamous among them is the dread pirate Esme and her fast ship, the Black Rose. No ship is safe when she has it in her sights.*

It’s too bad for Allister Smythe, first mate of the HMS Plotwise, a frigate on route to England after a protracted fight in the Americas. There’s only just enough food to get home, and nearly all their ammunition has already been exhausted when the crew in the crow’s nest spots the black flag on the horizon.

“Pirates!” shouts the grizzled man in the crow’s nest. It will be his last words. A cannonball obliterates the mast and sails, sending the crew into a panic. Only Allister stays in his position, guarding the captain. His saber at the ready, he says a prayer to his Heavenly Father and thinks of his wife back home, wondering if he’ll see her gorgeous face again.*

The captain of the Plotwise, a ruddy fat man with a nose for rum and little else, cowers at the wheel as The Black Rose coasts along the bow. Angry shouts on the main deck are replaced with pistol shots, the clang of metal, and cries that die as abruptly as they begin. “Do something!” he says, pushing Allister down the stairs.

Allister loves a good fight but knows when the odds are stacked against him. He parries the first attack from a clumsy marauder, sending the pirate belly-first into his sword. Something snaps inside him and the world slows down, as if in slow motion. Three more pirates lunge for him but meet three well places slashes instead.

“Stop!” The voice is strong. Virile, and yet feminine. The clamor dies down and Allister stands in front of a downed sail when it’s slashed open like a freshly killed deer. It’s her.

Esme is a sight to be seen. Iridescent black hair cropped at a severe angle along her jaw. Fire dances in her eyes. Dressed in a black leather corset, her sinewy shoulders bare tattoos and smears of blood. She may be the living embodiment of Death itself, but Allister gives himself a moment to appreciate the deep dark line of her cleavage, bisecting two perfectly shaped breasts.

“Surrender and I just may spare your life,” she says. “Don’t give up your life for Queen and country, and certainly not for this oaf.”

“Don’t listen to her!”

Allister looks around. The rest of the crew is either dead or overboard. “I want guarantees. No more bloodshed.”

Esme smiles like the demon making a deal and her men chuckle in low tones. “No more bloodshed. Now drop your weapon.”

He closes his eyes as the sword falls from his hand and rolls away on its own. What have I done? he thinks.

The men are quick to grab him and bind his arms behind him before throwing him to the ground, right before Esme’s feet. “Kiss them,” she says.

“You’ll be tried for mutiny!” shouts the captain. Pirates rush him and in seconds, hoist the fat man over their heads. “You lying bitch! You said no bloodshed.”

“Ah, but I didn’t say no drowning.” She snaps her fingers and the captain is tossed into the foamy ocean. “Now you,” she says, rubbing her black boot against his mouth. “Kiss.”

Allister glares up at her as he puckers his lips. Her crew’s jeers ring in his ears as he leans in. The leather tastes sour and bitter; oil and blood. In his mind, swears never to forget this moment, not until he sees her swinging from a hangman’s noose.

“That’s a good lad. You get to live another day.” She makes a gesture and three men pick him up by his arms and Allister’s shoulders burn. “Take him aboard and prepare him for the hold. The rest of you, loot this sorry excuse for a ship and be back by the third bell.”

On board the Black Rose, Allister’s rope bindings are replaced with iron shackles. The men hook him to the main mast with his arms over his head and he twists and kicks in defiance. A bearded man steps forward with a club and drives it into Allister’s belly. It knocks the wind out of him.

“Listen here, Captain Esme granted you mercy, but it can be taken away just as easily.” The man holds up a dagger and Allister sees his haggard face reflecting in the blade. “Captain says to prepare you. A word of advice? Don’t move, not unless you want to lose your family jewels.”

The bearded man cuts open Allister’s shirt then ties the collar so it doesn’t fall off. He’s fast. Feasible. The blade shaves every hair off of Allister’s chest and his skin prickles with the ocean breeze. When the man reaches his belly, Allister’s heartbeat quickens. The knife slides behind his belt and he can feel the cold metal against his thigh. *Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move.*

Allister’s pantaloons split open at the crotch as the man guides his blade down the length of the inseam and Allister feels his face burn with embarrassment. The skeleton crew around him laugh and point at his exposed manhood as his crotch gets the same close shave as his chest. At least the man was gentle. Gentle, until he takes a swig of rum and spits it on his chest.

“Augh!” Allister grunts as the spirits trickle over his sensitive skin. It stings for a moment before warming, a sensation he’d never felt before. His cock twitches for a moment and he grimaces for his body’s betrayal. It won’t be his last.

The bearded man stands up and unhooks him from the mast. “Take him down below.”

It’s dark and cold in the belly of the Black Rose but Allister can see the bars of a cage, barely large enough for man and he’s thrown into it. The door creaks shut and he shakes the iron bars, but they hold fast. He’s trapped.

Two days pass and no one has come to see him nor feed him. He can only mark the passage of time by looking at the cannon mount at the far wall, the rolling ocean a million miles away. Allister’s stomach growls with every muffled shout and footstep he can hear from the upper decks. His only peace comes when cold sleep overwhelms his body and he thinks about his wife, Jane and their home in Newcastle.

He imagines himself on their bed, plush in comparison to the hardwood of his cell. Jane’s long blond hair fans out on a pillow and he watches her sleep, her chest slowly rising and falling in the early morning light. Hands trembling, he reaches for her and surprises himself when he feels the warmth emanating from her gown. Oh, how it feels so good! Emboldened, he slides closer until his chest touches her back. He holds her chest tightly and Jane moans as he cups a breast. Her nipple hardens and Allister feels is cock growing, getting harder against her cotton gown.

“My love,” she whispers, cupping his cheek. “You seem troubled. What’s the matter?”

Allister nuzzles into her neck and kisses her scented skin. “Nothing, my dear, not when I have you.” Ticklish, she lets out a giggle as he plants more kisses on her neck, her cheeks, and finally her lips, like ripe strawberries. Her soft breathing turns into panting and Jane pulls up her gown, exposing her ass against his hot cock.

“Make me a woman,” she says, caressing his face. Her pussy is wet and slick and Allister’s cock glides in from behind. “Oh, yes my love, yes!”

His breath becomes haggard like hers as he reaches under her gown with both hands, squeezing and massaging Jane’s soft breasts. The universe shrinks down to the size of one bed as he slowly thrusts his cock in and out of her willing pussy. Skin on skin, the scent of their love drives him to push harder, faster, sending Jane into the throes of ecstasy.

“More!” she screams, bucking her hips into his to meet his cock with more power. “More!”

Allister can feel it growing, the knot in his loins that aches for release. Eyes closed, he focuses on the sound of their love, her husky voice calling his name, calling for God, praising the cock about to do the Lord’s work. He can not hold on any longer and with a strong push, he dumps his seed into her, moaning into her tousled hair.

His cock recedes between her thighs, surrounded by her warmth. As he begins to catch his breath, Allister opens his eyes and notices Jane’s hair has turned from blond to inky black. He pushes off her and a familiar cackle comes from the other side, where he can not see Jane’s face.

“You’re quite the sailor,” Captain Esme says, turning to face him. Her smile is wicked. She dips a finger in her black bush and licks the quim off of her fingers. “Delicious.”

Allister wakes up in his cage with a begin and hits his head against a bar. In the darkness, he feels the wet sticky mess still oozing from his cock and for the first time in a long time, he lets out a soft cry.

Sunset. Allister can tell by the orange sky peeking through the cannon window. He doesn’t know where they’re headed. Doesn’t care. His thirst and hunger gnaw at his mind. When he hears footsteps and light filtering down from the stairs, he lunges at the cage door. “Who’s there?”

“Get back,” says the bearded man who’d shaved him. “The captain wishes to see you. Are you going to behave?” He flashes his dagger and it shines in the lantern light. “I have to make you presentable.”

The door creaks open and Allister shakes as he crawls out, unable to stand. It’s only when the bearded man lifts him by his ribs does he realize how weak he’s become. He’s splayed out on a table and shackled to the corners, not that he could withstand. The man lifts Allister’s head to a cup of water and he drinks heavily, moaning into the cup with every splash on his face.

“More?” the man asks. Allister can only nod, licking his lips as the cup is refilled and he dives into it again. When the cup is pulled away the man pats his chest. “You’ll get more later. Now. Same as before. Don’t move.”

The knife works faster this time, now that Allister only has the faintest stubble growing from his chest and crotch. He smells coconuts and watches the man pour oil on his chest, rubbing it into sore muscles and bones. The man takes particular care to wash and clean Allister’s cock and balls, wiping the dried come off his skin. In the lamplight, they shine like brass. “There, now you’re ready to see the captain.”

Two more men carry him to the Esme’s quarters on the aft deck. The room is lit like a library, wall sconces casting shadows into the corners and hidden recesses that he can not see. Like before, his captors hook his arm shackles to a bulkhead and he’s left there, standing half naked save for his open shirt. Gold and plunder is piled in an open chest and Allister recognizes the steel bell from HMS Plotwise, his old ship. For a moment he thinks about his fellow crew now sleeping in the deep before he sees Captain Esme rising from the darkness.

When she steps into the light wearing a red herringbone corset and little else. A sheer skirt barely conceals the dark patch between her legs. She runs the back of her fingers along his cheek and Allister is too weak to even flinch. Her breath is hot against his ears. “Good evening,” she murmurs. It’s resonant, her voice sending a shiver down his spine. “Scrimshaw did a good job of cleaning you. You look good enough to eat.”

Allister blushes as he stares at her. Esme’s eyes look different from when she pillaged his ship. Softer. Playful. But the fire is still behind them. “That man is quick with the knife,” he says.

“Indeed! He was a butcher in a past life, laboring for some sod of a lord before I freed him. Liberated him from a sinking ship. Of course I was the one who’d sunk it.”

“Your men…”

“Former captives, either to a king or a company before I set upon them.”

“But you kidnapped them. Forced them to work?”

“For a time. I give them, just as I will give you, an opportunity to work until we reach port.” She circles around him and drags her nails over his chest, laughing when he gasps. “You sir, have a debt to repay.”

Before he can ask what debt, someone knocks on her door. A young man, bald and muscular, comes in carrying a large tray of food. Allister’s eyes widen. The smell of roast meat, wine, and hot bread fill his nose and his stomach growls. The man sets it down at Allister’s feet and when he rises, Allister can see a cold simmering rage in his face.

“Tomas, do you know who our guest is?” Esme asks.

“It’s the pig dog who killed my brother.” Tomas cracks his knuckles as if to prepare for a fight, one that Allister is sure to lose.

“Four men. You killed four of my men including Tomas’ dear brother. That is the debt that must be repaid. Now, I have no problem feeding you to the wolves outside. Tomas would like nothing better than to gut you from stem to stern and throw you into the ocean. Isn’t that right?”

Tomas nods slowly, never taking his hateful gaze off him. “Please, captain. Just this once.”

Panic and hunger make Allister ache but it’s Esme’s fingertips running over his chest and sides that make him shudder. His mind and body at war with each other, he feels on the verge of collapse when Esme walks to Tomas and puts her hand on his chest.

“No, Tomas. You cannot kill him. His life is not yours to take. How will he repay the debt to *me*?” She holds his chin and pulls him down, pressing her lips into his. “I will give you something else. But first, feed him.”

Tomas and Allister look at her and say, “What?” at the same time.

“He hasn’t eaten in two days and I don’t trust him with forks and knives. Not just yet. So I want you to feed him every morsel until he’s sated. Understood?”

Tomas tears a chunk of meat and holds it in front of Allisters face. It smells like heaven, unctuous and juicy. When he pushes the food into Allister’s mouth, it sends a rush of pleasure over his body. It feels so good, tastes even better than all the Christmas dinners he’s ever had in his life. Shameless, Allister chews with a broad smile on his face, grease dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

He opens his mouth when Tomas presents another hunk, this time with bread and wine. The flavors dance on his tongue and in a moment of clarity, Allister moans and laughs with unbridled pleasure. Even when he’s shackled to the ceiling, nothing in life has been better than the meal Tomas is feeding him. Between bites, Allister notices that Esme has moved to a large chair in the center of the room, a front row seat to the feast. With a leg thrown over an armrest, she runs her hand casually over the mound between her legs. The food, the flavor, and the sights and sounds arouse feelings he wondered were locked away in his cottage in Newcastle. He thinks of Jane.

“Well hello there,” Esme says with a smirk. “It would seem you have regained some stamina. Would you look at that, Tomas?”

The pirate looks down at Allister’s oily, semi-flaccid cock and nods. “He has some spirit.”

Esme beckons Tomas to come over and she whispers in his ear. Whatever she said makes his face turn grim. He walks back to Allister and gets on his knees.

“What did you say?” Allister asks.

The captain lets out a cold laugh. “You have spirit. I told him to drain it.”

Tomas squeezes Allister’s balls gently until he groans, his cock throbbing. Without warning, he opens his mouth and begins to suck on Allister’s oiled member.

“Oh God, oh God,” the captive whimpers. Once again, Allister’s body betrays him and he succumbs to mind-blowing pleasure.

“I want you to know that on my ship, my commands are final. Did you see the rage in Tomas’ eyes before? How he was thrilled at the prospect of taking his revenge? Now look at him. Coddling your salty cock as if he were a calf sucking on his mother’s teat. Now do you see?”

She continues to speak about loyalty and respect but Allister can not hear her. He has retreated into his mind again, imagining that it’s his wife Jane, his true love, who’s warm mouth is fellating him. The room falls away and he floats back to England, where he holds Jane’s soft tender cheek as she swirls her tongue up and down his shaft. *My love, my sweetest*. It’s *her* mouth that accepts his seed when he convulses, the pleasure pushing him over the precipice. Allister bucks his hips and Tomas falls over backwards, a white rope of come falling on his face.

Tomas is about to wipe his face when Esme stops him and straddles his neck. Lowering herself, she sits on his face and squirms with a devilish grin. “Your reward, Tomas.” Esme gasps as he licks her pussy, a warm tongue over her delicate folds, but she stares at Allister.

He can not look away. Even exhausted and half dead, Allister can not pull his eyes from her gaze, can not stop watching as she loosens her corset. It falls away revealing two ample breasts. She twists a nipple and gasps, still staring into his soul. It’s to break him and he knows it.

Esme undoes Tomas’ pants to discover his thick cock waiting for her. Rising, she commands him to lay down between Allister’s legs. Her creamy wet pussy slides onto Tomas’s cock with slow, agonizing precision. Like an assassin’s blade. With her face mere inches from Allister’s dick, she grips it and begins to tug.

“See? If you listen to me, if you do as I say, the rewards are *generous.* She punctuates the word with a kiss on his tip and his cock finds new life. “This is my offer. Join my crew and pay your debt. I’ve already taken one off with Tomas so you only owe me three lives.”

Tomas grabs her waist and thrusts into her, bouncing her on his cock. She giggles and sighs but lets him continue, still looking at Allister. A hand finds her clit and moves in rapid circles, bringing her closer to her own orgasm as she sucks on the hot cock before her. Esme’s throat and pussy paradise. The three of them moan in concert, a trio locked in hedonistic pleasure that Allister could never even conceive of before.

There is no cottage in Newcastle. No blond wife waiting for him. As Allister lets his final inhibitions fall, he unloads another splash of come into Esme’s willing mouth. She arches her back as her own orgasm sends her body into a quiver. Tomas is not far behind.

Six months later, Jane Smythe of Newcastle, England, receives an unmarked package, delivered from the Americas. In it, she finds the last hope of finding her husband alive: his gold wedding ring.

NSFW: yes

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