Jolly Roger

The Jolly Roger

Chapter 1

In the Caribbean seseaport Port Royal early July of 1687, as the warm trade winds rushed across the southern tip of Jamaica, the privateer ship The Jolly Roger slowly eased into her birth after a six week tour in which she had plundered three spainsh galleons. Just off the helm stood the captain, a trim, dark haired man, and six feet tall with dark hard eyes. He was liked by his crew, but they they also knew that crossing Captain Jon Capshaw could only result in a week in the stocks he kept in a private cabin next to his, where lashings by the large assortment of whips and paddles would be the kinder of the events that took place durring that week. Known throughout the port as a favorite patron of the wenches in the taverns as a big spender and tipper, he preferred the Dog Leg tavern on the main street that led to the port just 2 blocks down. Releasing his crew for a week of leave he gave strict orders that none of them were to return to the ship for the duration of the leave. This was his ship for the next week and he planned on taking full advantage of this week of no crew, alone with his Treasure.

He stepped through the door of the Dog Leg to find a fair number of his crew already getting into the swing of celebrations while the wenches from the brothel upstairs, eager to claim their share of the spoils early, clung to them. The captain was not interested in his crew or the wenches; he walked directly to the bar and ordered a round for everyone, and walked directly to the back room where the proprieter stood at the wash basin running a cool damp cloth around her neck and upper chest. Captain Capshaw said in a low pitched voice "It's been a long six weeks and I couldn't imagine a better a better sight to come home to".

She turned around damp cloth resting on her luscious cleavage, she was as beautiful as he remembered as she replied with "I was wondering how long it was going to take you to get here. Your crew are half way to being three sheets, and I was under the impression that you were in a hurry to get back to me?" She had a petit frame with dark hair and eyes that are the color of a dark whiskey, but that burn with an intensity and passion that pierced his soul. She was 5’ 4” tall and more beautiful than anything on this world to him. He could not take his eyes off of her, her small but perfect breasts lifted up to mounds of cleavage blossoming from her corseted torso.

He answered her waiting stare with "My treasure, I was making some arrangements for the next week, during which you will have no work to do as my cook will be minding the tavern, and all you must do is pack your bags while I prepare our livations for the week".

Curious, she asked what she should pack for and his answer that she “Only needed the items required for a week of passion and pleasure”, made her very intrigued. She had never gone away with him before, even though they had spent every moment they could together over the last year. He crossed the room to wrap his arms around her, lifted her to him, unable to restrain his mouth from taking hers, his lips touching hers their mouths part, heat built up from the last 3 fortnights finally finding a little release. Their tongues dancing across each other, her body pressed to his, after a few moments he released her and said "go pack my treasure"

She retuned down the stairs 20 minutes later with a large bag and said that she was ready to go. Capshaw had 2 of his men take the bags and they headed out for the Jolly Roger.


As they boarded the Roger, the captain told the guard crew to prepare to take the ship out. They set off 30 minutes later and, after an hour, they weighed anchor just off a small island. The captain set the remaining crew off in a dingy with instructions to return in a week, with a stern “Not a moment earlier” added for good measure. His treasure was in for a week she would not soon forget, and he hoped, would take her to places of pleasure that she had never let herself go before.

Finally alone with here, he walked to her and taking he in is strong arms they kissed and caressed each other, his hands on her face and neck, her breasts restrained by her corset; needing to kiss them, he slid his hands down to her hips and turns her around. He reaches around her, kissing the back of her neck, slowly unbuttoning her silk blouse, one button at a time. Taking an excruciatingly long time, he finally reaches the last button, to her agonizing relief. She needs to touch him, as bad as she needs his touch, her hand reaching behind her to find his manhood that she has been aching for since the last morning 6 long weeks ago. Just as she finds his hardening shaft, she feels his hands at her neck and in a seductive yet commanding tone that he has never used with her before, whispers "No My Treasure, you are to be mine today, you will not reach or take or do anything without my permission. You are on my ship, and on my ship you do as you are told. You will only speak when spoken to or after you ask permission to speak or act, and will do neither until I have granted you that permission. You will not act or assume any prerogatives. Do you understand my treasure?"

They had been together many times over the last year, but never on his ship, he had always come to her, and had always been very giving and gentle when she wanted, but would take her when she needed it. But today it was different, he was so firm and controlling and a little terrifying, but in the last year he had never hurt her, or given her any reason to fear him. Confused, but excited, she was battling fear and her need for him, both so strong, but after what seemed like an agonizing eternity her need won out, so with a tremble in her voice, she replied with "Yes, My Captain".

As a reward for her obedience he cupped her now corset only clad breasts squeezing the firmly nibbling her ear and neck, his hand sliding down her abdomen to the waist band of her skirt and slipping inside her pettycoat cupping her woman hood through her black silk panties he pulls her back against his pelvis and even through all her layers she could feel his hard shaft against what he considered her perfect and incredibly sexy derrière. He massaged her sweet mons, his mouth devouring her neck, his other hand kneading her now extremely sensitive breasts through her lace corset. As she ground herself against his hands, her sweet nectar now covering his fingers through her silk, she started climbing up to her release and was getting closer by the second; and he could tell. Just as she was about to feel the sweet release fighting her urge to touch him, no matter how bad she needed to, she could tell he was serious about his command to her and she had to obey, but just before the first wave of pleasure hit he stopped his touching and only kissed her. She didn't realize she had done it, but a whimper of frustration slipped from her throat, and that's when she found out what the rules really meant for this day...