Chapter One

 

"Come in!"

Captain Sumner testily acknowledged the intrusion into his thoughts as he pored over his charts in his cabin. His Bo'sun, Saunders, entered carrying a coiled whip in his hand.

"Blood's been drawn, Sir," he announced.

"Saunders, how many times have I told you not to bother me with trifles!"

"But you said to let you know when I'd drawn blood," the big man's honest brow creased in puzzlement.

"Like as not you've just scratched the wretch. I meant you to tell me when the blood was flowing properly.........Oh, God's teeth, never mind. I'll come and have a look but I'll wager you've gone easy because of her noble birth."

The Captain pushed past his Bo'sun and led the way up the steep steps and out onto the poop deck. The minute his head appeared through the hatch, there was resumed activity in the rigging and the deck swabbers bent to their tasks with renewed vigour. The cause of the interruption to the ship's normal routine was on the starboard side of the main deck. One of the gratings had been raised and propped against the gunwhale, tied to it was a pale and slender figure, stripped semi naked.

Captain Sumner looked around. "Get on with it you Godforsaken scum!" he shouted. "The next man who slacks will take her place and get a double ration of the cat!"

When he was satisfied that routine was properly established once more he descended onto the main deck and made his way to where the flogging had taken place and there he scrutinised Saunders' handiwork.

The Lady Antonia Gascoine's back, from shoulders to waist, where he had allowed her to retain her chemise, was laced in scarlet lines which stretched around her ribs and scored the sides of her still-heaving breasts. He had to admit that Saunders didn't appear to have allowed his lowly status to influence the vigour with which he had carried out sentence on this wayward scion of a noble English family. A slow trickle of scarlet wept down her ribs from just behind her left breast where three lashes had crossed on the same small area of once pale and aristocratic flesh. The nineteen year old's face was pressed against the metal of the grating but he could hear her muffled sobs quite clearly. He stepped close to the girl.

"The next time Milady feels the inclination to disgrace her class by seducing my second mate and coupling with him like a bitch on heat, you'll damn well wait until we're in port. Or better still you'll recall this thrashing and take to your embroidery instead."

The girl raised her head and stared at him defiantly, biting her bottom lip but letting her green eyed gaze do her talking for her. The bitch was actually daring him to do his worst! The Captain met her gaze until at last she lowered her eyes and sank back against the grating. When her father, Alfred Gascoine, Duke of Loughmore, had asked him to pick her up at Tangiers and give her passage home, it had seemed no great hardship. After all, the pirates and some rogue Frenchies were the main dangers in this, the year of Our Lord eighteen hundred and seven. But she had proved to be the most wilful devil in skirts that he had ever encountered. She had complained about every single thing she could and insulted his ship until he had thought he would surely strangle her. At first he had been struck by her proud bearing and exceptional beauty. Her skin was faultlessly smooth and pale, her neck and shoulders graceful and her great, green eyes a magnet to every red blooded man. It had almost come as a relief when he had come on deck the previous night before turning in and had seen the two figures on the foredeck. There was no mistaking the way she was inviting the man's kiss, at last now he could take the opportunity to knock some sense into that glorious head - even if it meant scoring her back till the blood ran.

Captain Sumner turned to his Bo'sun. "She comes of good stock, she can take another half an hour under the whip, so continue and then bring her to my cabin." He made to return to the poop but stopped. "And don't pay any mind to her howls, nor to how she is marked. Her father asked me to keep her in check and I shall do just that. So be about your work man!"

He waited to see Saunders flick out the braided lash, raise his arm and then deliver the next stroke. It scorched across her shoulders, the tip burying itself in her right armpit and wringing the first of many screams from her as she flung her thick brown hair back In fact he was unable to concentrate on his charts even when he returned below, so shrill were the cries from up on deck. He sighed in resignation and waited for the Bo'sun to finish and bring the wretched girl to him.

When he duly appeared, he was practically carrying the half naked Lady Antonia. She had just about enough consciousness left to cross her arms across her chest to hide her breasts but the Captain couldn't help but notice how superbly the white flesh billowed out above and below her slender arms. He quickly had Saunders turn the girl to inspect her back and forced the vision of her magnificent teats from his mind. The devastation wrought there would perhaps have had that effect on most men, but to any reasonably experienced captain the sight of a bloodied back was nothing new. However, Sumner could not help noticing how his cock began to unfurl in his breeches as he surveyed the thrashed Lady Antonia Gascoine.

As had been evident on deck her figure was graceful and fully formed, but now from shoulders to the top of the crease of her bottom, her petticoat having slipped during her struggles on the grating, her skin was traversed by savagely crisscrossing weals and many of them had split. In places these long cuts were weeping, vertical trails of scarlet across the horizontal weals, and the top of her petticoat was bloodstained. The white muslin showing a dark red in several places.

She looked every inch the perfectly chastised wench and he felt an urge to rip the petticoat off her and complete her lesson with a good hard fuck, but restrained himself with difficulty.

"Have you learned your lesson, Milady?" he asked sternly. The sobbing stopped and the girl was still for a second as she gathered herself before replying.

"Yes, Captain. I have had it drummed into me and beaten into me that all men are brutes and I hate them."

Captain Sumner and Saunders looked at each other in despair over the girl's head. At least there were only three days at sea left and then he could return her to her father.

"Saunders will take you to your cabin. Once there you will instruct your maid to tip him a crown for the effort he put into your correction today. If you do not follow my orders, you will be clapped in irons and flogged again tomorrow. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Captain," the girl whispered.

"Take her to Fraulein Ingemyer and have her cuts tended to," he told Saunders and the man left with his near swooning captive.

 

Chapter Two

 

In the early evening, having made a decent enough supper in his cabin, Captain Sumner was writing up his log when there came a knock on the cabin door once more. Fraulein Ingemyer entered when he responded and stood before his desk, a flush of anger in her cheeks. She was a woman in her thirties but well enough preserved, her figure full and mature in contrast to the coltishness of her mistress.

"I must protest most vigorously about the terrible way Milady Gascoine has been treated. Her back is in an awful state and what her father will say when he sees her........"

"He will say it should have been done a long time ago!" Captain Sumner shouted, standing suddenly and towering over the German maid. "I will not have discipline aboard this ship disrupted by women who can't govern their sluttishness and I will not be lectured by one who cannot better advise her mistress!"

"I shall give his Lordship a full account of your impertinence, Sir!" the maid retorted hotly.

"You do not understand that aboard ship the Captain is the final authority, Fraulein. In the morning I shall have you flogged where your mistress was flogged today!" Suddenly a vision of the Fraulein's fuller form splayed out and jerking under the lash entered his mind and he felt his cock begin to throb again. He smiled as an idea came to him. "And of course I cannot predict the full consequences of the crew witnessing two female floggings on consecutive days. There are thirty men aboard this vessel who have not had a sniff of a cunny for a month or two. I might have no choice but to let them at you once sentence is complete."

"You would not! You could not!" Fraulein Ingemyer was suddenly pale and trembling, one hand flew to her bosom.

"I would and I might have to! But I can offer you a choice. You will bend over this desk, raise your skirts and take whatever I give you or I'll have you flogged to the blood and leave you to the tender mercies of the crew. One or the other Fraulein. It's your choice."

He watched as the full realisation of what she had got herself into dawned on the woman and then, hesitantly, as she pondered thirty consecutive rapes after a savage flogging, her fingers began to pull at the sides of her skirt and she bowed her head. The Captain cleared a space on his desk and left her to settle herself while he opened his sea chest and pulled out his favourite riding crop. He had been hoping that if landfall at Tangiers had been prolonged he might have had a chance to ride and had brought the crop just in case. It now looked as though it would come in even handier than he had hoped.

When he turned back he was presented with a fine sight indeed. Fraulein Ingemyer had a choice rump, two fleshy but firm and generous buttocks were presented, the skin invitingly pale above the dark stockings, a froth of lace and muslin framed the ensemble and between them a dusky red and full-lipped cunt lay exposed to his gaze. The woman had reached forward and was gripping the edge of the desk in front of her head as though her life depended on it, and as he approached she lifted her face and craned round to watch him.

"You will no doubt take what all men want when you have done your worst," she said.

"Indeed I will Fraulein. But for your insolence, you will first receive sufficient lashes to make the blood flow freely. Are you ready?"

She made no answer, just settled herself.

The captain ran the braided shaft across the soft flesh, denting it just a little, then he drew it back and delivered the first lash. He didn't hold back and allowed the whippy length to make a full blooded impact right across the crowns of both buttocks.

Crack!

The noise was loud in the confined space and the trace on the pale and rippling flesh instant. A dark angry line appeared, ending in a flare where the keeper had added its spiteful bite. As he watched, little specks appeared where the blood had been drawn towards the skin. But beyond a strange, muffled grunting noise the woman bore it in silence.

Crack!

The captain swung in another lash and watched the buttocks flinch and ripple in its wake, but again the woman took it in near silence.

"I deem you have some acquaintance with the lash, Fraulein," he said.

"What woman isn't acquainted with men's brutality?" she gasped.

Crack!

The third lash fetched a long growl of agony from her and the captain watched as her chest heaved and the breath sobbed in her throat. Looking down at the delightful expanse of buttocks laid out for him to slice into he realised he would need to moderate the strength of his blows if he was to extend her torment for as long as he now desired. He passed an extremely pleasant half hour, cracking in harsh lashes and watching her writhe, then almost tickling places where the skin was becoming a vivid shade of pink laced with darker stripes. And in between the cringing, shaking buttock mounds, the cunt itself beckoned. Sometimes he would alter his stance and flick at it with the keeper, just hard enough to make her jump and moan in surprise. The second time he paused in his main thrashing and indulged himself he was amazed to see the fleshy outer lips begin to darken and peel apart to reveal the wavy inner lips and the vaginal entrance itself. The slut was actually managing to extract some pleasure from her thrashing! He himself was now fully erect and he could feel his cock uncomfortably pushing against the tightness of his breeches. He would teach this impertinent bitch that a real thrashing would take her beyond any mere titillation.

He straddled his legs, flexed his whip arm and set about opening up the buttocks. It took him no more than ten strokes, the skin having been well prepared for the final onslaught. The thin shaft buried itself in the flesh and came away leaving long slits which began to ooze blood. Captain Sumner was a man of his word and was not to be swayed by the agonised writhing and wailing which greeted this final development. He had promised to make the blood flow freely and freely it would flow.

He swung in a flurry of lashes to the lower slopes at the junction with the thighs and sent Fraulein Ingemyer squealing up onto her toes while her bottom blossomed scarlet once more. He only ceased when he realised the crop was spraying drops of blood around the cabin when he lifted it clear of the flogged-raw arse. Throwing the implement down he unbuttoned his breeches and pushed them far enough down his legs to avoid being stained by the blood and then, taking his hard shaft in one hand, he guided his cock home. She had dried somewhat under the final assault on her buttocks, but was still fairly easy to enter. He sighed in pleasure as he felt his pelvis come to rest against the hot skin of her arse, the whole of him warmly encased and gripped by her cunt.

Now he was where he wanted to be, for almost the first time he bothered to look at the rest of the body beneath him. Her face was turned to the side and he could clearly see how her tears had pooled on the mahogany of his desk. Her arms were still outflung and the knuckles on her hands were bone white where they clenched the edge of the desk. He reached forward and fumbled under her chest, groping for her breasts.

"Beast!" she murmured, but then lifted her torso just enough for him to get his hands under her and feel the warm mounds of breastflesh where they spilled over the cups of her corset. He grinned and began to thrust himself towards his climax, gripping his fingers hard into her breasts and increasing her discomfort, and yet she began to move under him. He looked down to where he penetrated her and saw her pelvis begin to rock and swing with slow sensuous movements even as she continued to weep blood from her thrashing. Slowly the tempo increased as both bodies sought their pleasure and the cabin resounded to the pants and gasps of effort as Fraulein Ingemyer fought her way to a tormented orgasm and her flogger mercilessly rammed himself between her bruised, striped and bloodied buttocks.