Dream Captive Page 8

  And then the sky would be the limit. The riches of all the sea would be his for the taking.

  Tesra was unable to walk. Mercifully, Marcellus allowed her to be carried back to the slave hold in the arms of one of his men, a tall olive-skinned man whose tongue had been cut out in a Talassian prison. The man had evidently suffered much as evidenced by the stoical expression and the green, glassy stare of his eyes. For some reason she felt safe in his arms - anonymous, somehow. Tucking her head in to his substantial chest she listened for his heartbeat, shutting out the sounds of the ship.

  The pirate crew had come to life this night. Torches burned in the cold blackness of the open sky, pipes and high-pitched instruments were sounding and men’s voices were lifting up to the very heavens. The pirates were singing songs, drinking rum and celebrating. One man, his speech much slurred, was belting out a tune about a girl named Amelia who grew addicted to the pleasures of a pirate’s peg leg between her legs. She heard the cries of females, as well, which meant the slave girls were on deck for wench sport.

  Drusia, of course, would be exempt, having been allowed to lie with Marcellus after her departure. In the last few hours she had copulated wildly with the man in every known position. Tesra had been made to witness it all from a position against the bulkhead, her arms shackled above her head. She’d determined not to show her own need or her jealousy, but it was so difficult. Why did Marcellus not touch her or penetrate her?

  Tesra tried not to care. She did not want the pirate’s touch. She did not want his cock, did not want to writhe and squirm, to excite and arouse and satisfy him like the little slut Drusia. No, Tesra wanted something noble, something just. She wanted escape. A chance to jump over the rail and swim for the nearest coastline, though the attempt might cost her life. Maybe the silent giant would help her. Perhaps he would want to keep her for himself, even. Should she ask, begging him to take her as his own captive? He might even be merciful and take her home, to her island, to her waiting sisters.

  ‘Please, kind sir,’ she murmured, as he was stepping over the body of a reclining dark-skinned girl, her body chained to the deck for the abuse of one and all. ‘You can see I am held under duress, won’t you help me?’

  Just then an auburn-haired girl ran by, half screaming and half laughing, a drunken pirate hot on her tail, trying his best to spill rum on her welted body. Nearby another girl was on her knees, licking the glistening cunt of a sister slave, whose body had already been drenched in the powerful liquor. Behind the standing slave, a blonde like herself, was a one-eyed pirate, thrusting himself in and out of what must have been her nether hole. The look on her face was one of sheer bliss, though Tesra couldn’t imagine the position was all that comfortable.

  Meanwhile another man, a peg-legged fellow with a straggly black beard, stood over the kneeling girl, encouraging her with the whip to be both passionate and diligent in licking the blonde slave, who appeared now to be in the throes of a powerful orgasm.

  Still another slave was suspended in a small cage, in which she could only squat. There was a chain attached to the top holding her at precisely the right level to accept the long stiff prick of Montrego, who was busy taunting her.

  ‘You can suck better than that, Arabella,’ he chided the slender auburn-haired girl, shivering and wet, ‘or do you need another dunking?’

  Arabella’s mouth was stretched wide as she sought desperately to please her cruel master. Why were the men acting like this? Why did they insist on treating their females this way, simply because they were larger and stronger? This was not the will of the gods and goddesses; surely the First People, from the Time of the Beginning could not have behaved this way.

  ‘If you help me,’ she informed the mute, ‘you will be rewarded. There is much gold on my island. And silver and diamonds, as well.’ Tesra was surprised at how easy she was finding it to lie. Back home it would be impossible, not only because of the limits of her conscience but also on account of the powers of her teachers, who were able to see through dissimulations great and small. With men it was easy, even necessary to prevaricate. Her survival was at stake now, and she did intend to live, even to thrive until the time of her eventual, inevitable escape. The captain only thought he was conquering her, and he had a big surprise in store. They all did, any of them who thought they would beat her. She would endure all they forced on her; triumphing and turning it round as a power against them.

  The mute laid her at his feet just long enough to open the slave hatch.

  ‘Please,’ begged Tesra, who only a moment ago had pledged to stay strong, ‘do not put me back in that horrible slave hold. It is so terrible down there, and it frightens me so. Will you not have pity?’

  Tesra, mortified, found herself kneeling before him, grabbing at his pantaloons, weak and servile as any slave. Fortunately for her he grabbed her before she could abase herself anymore. What more would she have done if he’d let her? Would she have offered her mouth for his use in exchange for her freedom, or maybe even her virgin sex?

  At least I shall be alone down here, thought Tesra, seeking what consolations she could find in being locked once more in the filthy hold. Her joy was short-lived, however, as she heard a familiar voice, whispering behind her, like ice. ‘Vorra,’ she exhaled, not needing to see the woman to know her presence. ‘I had thought everyone was...’

  ‘Upstairs to be ravished?’ she completed the thought. ‘No,’ she turned Tesra round gently but firmly. ‘I’m afraid I’m being punished tonight. No hard man-cock for naughty Vorra tonight. It seems you, too, have been made to suffer. It’s that little bitch Drusia, isn’t it? She told the captain lies about me. Has she done the same to you?’

  Tesra blinked back the tears. The cruel, raven-haired woman was the last one in the world she should be confiding in, but she was desperate and something in her tone seemed softer now, more sympathetic. Could it be they would be allies now that Vorra had been betrayed just as she was?

  ‘She’s with him now,’ said the seer, so far from her island, locked in the belly of a gently swaying whale, cutting through the currents of seas hundreds of leagues from the Isle of Dreams. ‘He let her sleep on his bed... he... he did things with her all day and I had to watch.’

  Vorra took the girl in her arms. ‘It’s okay,’ she soothed the suddenly sobbing girl. ‘Tell Vorra all about it.’

  ‘I was chained up,’ Tesra explained, once Vorra had taken them to a place of relative comfort, a bale of clean hay against which they could sit, resting their backs under a slow-glowing lantern. ‘Marcellus aroused me and then he abandoned me for her. My hands were overhead, my wrists crossed. I was nude, as I am now, totally helpless, and every chance Drusia got she would look over at me, blowing me kisses, letting me know that she was enjoying my suffering, and also how much Marcellus was enjoying her.’

  ‘Drusia is a backstabbing bitch.’ Vorra let the girl rest her head on her shoulders. ‘She crawls to the captain to curry favor when behind his back she despises him. How I hate her! How I hate Marcellus, too. If Rodrigo were captain, if he held the kingship of pirates, it would not be like this.’

  ‘Rodrigo is different?’ she sniffled.

  ‘Rodrigo is a real man,’ Vorra stroked her blonde head. ‘He knows what a woman needs and he gives it to her.’

  ‘He is kind, then?’

  Vorra laughed. ‘You think a female needs a man who is weak like that, able to be twisted round her little finger? No, Rodrigo is strong. He teaches us that we are slaves and he is our master. He shows no mercy, no favoritism. We all crawl equally to him, we all lie as one beneath his sword.’

  ‘You make it sound like something pleasant,’ she complained.

  ‘Is it not so where you come from, Tesra? Are the men on your Isle of Dreams so different?’

  ‘There are no men at all,’ Tesra explained. ‘Only females.’

 
; ‘But how do your people survive?’ she asked, astonished. ‘How are your females implanted with seed so as to grow new life?’

  ‘We need no seed,’ Tesra shook her head, grateful finally to meet one who seemed genuinely interested in life on her island. ‘The goddess produces the new babies, all girls, of course, from out of the fire of Surasa, the Great White Volcano at the center of the island.’

  Vorra laughed. ‘You get babies from a volcano? That is the silliest thing I have ever heard. Babies come from here,’ she said, placing her hand over Tesra’s tummy. ‘And when a man wishes to plant his seed the female bears young.’

  Tesra flushed to have her sacred story so thoroughly ridiculed by an uneducated off-islander - a barbarian. ‘Is it any more absurd then how things are done in your world?’ she asked petulantly. ‘With one half of the race holding the other in bondage, at war with itself?’

  Vorra shook her head. ‘Not all females are slaves. Many are free.’

  ‘But your mother was not, nor are you.’

  ‘That is true. To find truly free women you must go to the larger cities, to the places of wealth, such as Talassia.’

  ‘Women there have power?’

  ‘Not as men do, no. We are smaller, Tesra, we are not made equal. Surely this is obvious to you. A queen or princess may put on airs, but I promise you even she, in the privacy of the bedchamber, is subject to one male or other. Has she not legs to be spread like any other woman? A womb to be filled at his discretion? A back and arse to receive his discipline? No woman can be truly happy without these things, I promise you.’

  Tesra fought the warmth generated by the light touch of Vorra to her neck as she spoke. ‘We are happy,’ Tesra said. ‘On the Isle of Dreams we live in perfect harmony and bliss.’

  ‘Do you?’ Vorra whispered, inducing the girl to lay her head back on the hay. ‘What is it like? Won’t you tell me?’

  Tesra went to her back, letting her hands fall to her side, palms up. It was wrong for her to be feeling even a tiny bit comfortable in the slave hold like this, and yet she was having difficulty resisting the growing sense of relaxation, even contentment. She did not belong in this place, subjugated and humiliated beyond belief. She was the fruit of the goddess, a talented seer, born to sing the praises of creation. A chill passed down her spine as she thought of the captain’s words. He intended to use her powers to find treasure. What on earth could he mean? The words made no sense.

  ‘The Isle of Dreams is a place of such wonder,’ she began, sighing in anticipation of the very saying of the words, ‘that even the goddess regards it as her favorite spot. Oh, Vorra, if only you could see it. The sky is blue as chalk, the mountains are white as the purest wool on top and green and luxuriant below. There are plants and flowers of every variety and great rocks of the most marvelous colors. Reds and blues and purples. The beach itself is made of these colors, for the sand comes from the rocks. The water is a dozen shades of blue and waves roll in night and day with such fervor that it is like the kiss of a grandmother to her granddaughter.’

  ‘Like this?’ Vorra kissed her, drawing the girl’s lips up toward her own. It was a long, probing kiss, but not harsh and overpowering as the men gave.

  ‘Not... exactly,’ she replied, breathless.

  ‘Go on, then,’ Vorra encouraged. ‘Teach me.’

  ‘We are sisters on the island. There is no... physical love.’

  Vorra kissed her navel, sending flutters through her belly. ‘What on earth do you do, then?’

  ‘We look upwards, and outwards. Oh, Vorra, you shouldn’t do that.’

  ‘Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Vorra touched the wet place between her legs. ‘Are you related to a goddess?’

  ‘We are, all of us.’ Tesra began to writhe. ‘The goddess formed us to share in her knowledge. To see with her eyes. To know all things. But it is a good power. Meant to be used in good ways. Not like the captain wants.’

  ‘And what does Marcellus want?’

  Tesra drew a ragged breath as the girl found her clit. ‘He thinks he can find treasure through my visions. Gold, diamonds, I suppose. The whereabouts of ships, places he can steal from. I understand so little.’

  ‘How strange. And could Marcellus really get this information from you?’

  ‘I... I do not know,’ the little blonde moaned. ‘The world of men is new to me. I know not what I am capable of here.’

  ‘You will do what men tell you. As do I and all the others.’

  Tesra lifted herself against Vorra’s hand, trying to increase the friction. ‘I am not a slave,’ she reminded her.

  ‘All women are slaves,’ said Vorra. ‘Some are simply more honest about the matter. Do you think I hate the young man who stole my virginity and deprived me of my legacy? Do you think I would see him dead for tricking me into taking the brand, for allowing him to use me like a she-slut in the alley and sell me like an animal to be hauled off in chains to a traveling show? On the contrary, Tesra, I owe him my life and were he here now I would beg for the honor of offering him what I could not then, namely my full and most passionate service based on what I have learned about my own slavery.

  ‘I deserved to be stripped that day in the barn. By all rights he should have whipped me as well, for the crime of pretending to be something I was not, for the crime of acting like a free woman when all along I was nothing but a slave bitch, a piece of arse in need of a mark and a good beating.’

  ‘I can’t believe that,’ said Tesra, the desperation and need thick in her voice. ‘I refuse to, do you hear me?’

  Vorra finished her off, subjecting her to a twisting, agonizing climax.

  ‘We shall see,’ she smiled down at the girl, exhausted in the hay. ‘We shall see.’

  He came for Vorra a short while later. None other than Rodrigo himself. Vorra crawled to him swiftly, allowing him to take her black hair in his fist. Half leading, half dragging her, he took her up the stairs, leaving Tesra alone.

  In the dark she shuddered, feeling more alone and naked than she had ever been in her life. When the fur-covered creature brushed her leg she leaped to the top of the hay and began to scream. No one heard her and after a while she had no choice but to lie down, curled up on the bale. Above her, dimly she could hear the strains of the pirate’s orgy. For a split second she was jealous of the slave girls, in the open air, drawing so much male interest.

  What would it take to compete with the others? To make the pirates want her body enough to bring her up-top, to be put in the cage or chained on her back, to be whipped or fucked?

  ‘Forgive me, Persistrata,’ she whispered, unable to keep her hand from her already drenched pussy. ‘I am too far from you now and too weak.’

  Chapter 5

  The girl was nearly ready. Over the past three days Marcellus had been stripping away her defenses, laying the groundwork for his attack, which would be both devastating and unexpected as lightning from a clear blue sky. Despite her seemingly miraculous origins, Tesra, the nymph of many names, had proven no different from any other female he’d ever dealt with. She was petty, jealous, laughably easy to read and born to lie at his feet.

  In truth, he could have dispatched her of her pride and haughtiness on their very first encounter. Pretty, golden-haired Tesra could as easily have come aboard his ship a fucked wench as she had a whipped one. But that could have resulted in trauma, destroying the delicacies of her divinely inspired mind. She had powers, yes, and he had not fully gauged their depths, but she was also painfully human.

  Though he had not shared the details with Rodrigo or the others, he did know a thing or two about the Isle of Dreams and its lovely inhabitants. The medallion was not all his grandfather had left him, nor was the ring. For behind the ruby lay a secret, one that would render Tesra h
is captive in a way she could not now dream. He almost pitied the creature when she learned the truth, that so much of her pride and self-perceived divinity had been based upon a lie. A lie which he would expose this very day, in preparation for his assault upon the fortress of her mind.

  At present the girl was enjoying her latest respite from his grueling training sessions. He observed her, at the prow, her long hair blowing in the wind. He hadn’t a clue what went on behind those eyes - though soon he would. She looked delicious dressed as she was, wearing one of his shirts, belted about her waist like a short skirt. He knew well the curves of her body underneath, both by eye and by touch. She had orgasmed for him many times and she knew his sex as well, having enjoyed the privilege of viewing his sport with Drusia and also with Vorra. The latter had become somewhat sullen, and he’d noted she was being called more frequently into the company of Rodrigo.

  As for his second-in-command, he seemed on the surface right enough, though Marcellus had in his gut a gnawing doubt. Rodrigo was anything if stoic and for the man to be so pleasant and quiet as he was now, keeping such a low profile, could only mean he was seeking allies among the others for a possible mutiny. Marcellus had just now sent Drusia and Vorra, respectively, to the most questionable captains, bearing bottles of his finest rum as a peace offering. Still, there was the very real possibility of trouble ahead.

  All the more reason to press the future-seeing wench as soon as possible.

  ‘The sea is calm today,’ he observed, taking up a place directly behind her.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said the girl, offering no resistance as he ran his hand against her hip.

  ‘You seem a bit thinner.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  He made a mental note to put something a bit more fattening in her diet. For discipline’s sake, and to keep her from losing her figure, he had kept her on a tight regimen, but even so he had allowed her some privileges. For the past two nights she had been allowed to sleep on the deck beside his bed, her neck chained to the foot of it.