Misty Dawn & The Raven Ch. 6

Charles smiled down at her as what little fight left Catherine's body with a whimper. "Sultan," Fazul, said just above a whisper, breaking Charles thoughts, Charles snapped his attention to his first mate, as if Catherine did not exist. Fazul bowed his head deeply as he continued, "Sultan, I beg your forgiveness; but I must remind you that she is in no condition for physical mistreatment as yet."

Dawn watched as Charles face went from angry and diabolic to a half smile, then expanding to a devilishly charming grin. Charles clapped his hands loudly and began to laugh, "Faz-Fazul, my old friend," Charles barely managed and had to pause to allow himself a deep chested chuckle before continuing. "I thought you knew me better than that, my old friend. My forgiveness is not given, for it is not necessary. I do remember, and I have gave it great thought." Charles leered down at Catherine and burst out laughing again.

"Fazul," Charles began with a soft bemused voice, "should she," he pointed at Catherine, "not eat to regain her strength?" Fazul, looked deep into Charles' blue eyes before nodding, trying to mask his confusion. Charles clapped his hands once again before he continued, "Wonderful, then it is decided, the Tart Catherine shall take her breakfast to learn her place and regain her strength. Thank you, my friend," Charles said with a wave, "that will be all, Fazul. Thank you." Fazul did not take his face from Charles, but his eyes glanced fearfully to Catherine before he nodded and bowed deeply as he rose and backed towards the door, "Yes, Sultan," he said softly as he closed the door behind him.

Charles watched the door close then turned to Dawn, "Misty, have you ate your fill, mi pet?" he asked in a voice of complete devotion. Dawn had watched the scene with complete fascination. Fazul and Charles dragging Catherine to the stocks and watching them close around her, the hefty wood and iron from locking her tight, the weight pinning her wispy form to the floor. It took a few seconds for his words to reach her brain, the stocks having struck some hidden cord deep within her mind. Finally, she blinked and turned her head abruptly enough to cause her crimson curls to flutter as she did. Dawn opened her mouth, but her throat was so dry she could make not a sound. She licked her suddenly parched lips and then resigned herself to simply nod, casting her eyes down to the deck, somewhat ashamed of the curious fire that was smoldering within her core and causing her to not speak. "Very good," Charles smiled, the words dripping off his tongue, "then we shall address Catherine's insolence and hunger at once."

* * * * *

Fazul stood and regarded the door to Charles' cabin for a few moments before shaking his large bald, tattooed head. He turned and walked away with long strides. The giant of a man looked around the deck, eyeing every sailor, a few paused in their duties as his eyes fell upon them. They would quickly turn away and back to their chores as his dark eyes met their own. Fazul wondered about Robbins, whom was not above deck. A massive paw rubbed a large chin in thought then Fazul headed below decks.

It was sweltering as usual under the decks of the cramped vessel as Fazul peered through the gloom. He walked past the rows of guns and their neat stacks of balls and kegs of powder, ducking his head at every beam. Suddenly he heard a raspy wheezing in a darkened corner near a cannon. A frown appeared upon his brow and he softly strode towards it. He stopped a few feet from the noise and watched as a kneeling Robbins crouched in the darkness beside one of the long guns. His trousers were pulled down to his thighs and he was wheezing. One fist was tightly clutched around the neck of his ever-present bottle; the other was rapidly crushing, and then revealing tufts of thick gray hairs at his groin. The old man was muttering to himself as he pumped his grease manhood hard and fast with a gnarled hand. Just as Fazul was about to speak, the old man coughed and grinned widely, a burst of milky jettison launched from the head of Robbins' cock and landed upon the barrel of the gun.

Robbins still had his cock in his hand and was milking a dribble from it as he lifted the bottle to his lips when Fazul broke the silence of his enjoyment. "Master Robbins!" Fazul said loudly, but dispassionately as he could muster despite his temperament, "Master Robbins, I think you should clean that cannon before you finish your inventory of the powder, lest you tempt Sultan's temper this day." With that, he tossed a rag that smelt of oil to Robbins who caught it with a trembling, cum slick hand. Fazul nodded politely and turned away.

Robbins' face was flushed, with a reddening combination of release, rum, and anger. He spit on the deck and without bothering with his clothes turned to the barrel with the rag and cleaned his spill from its steel. "Damn, that giant half of a man!" Robbins spat under his breath. "If'n 'e 'ad proper riggin', he'ld 'ave both the 'itches. But how c'n 'e even know what be drivin' the 'ole bloody crew ta madness?!? And wit' da Cap'n keepin' 'em both l'cked up fer his own..." Robbins trailed off as he rubbed the cannon clean. He threw the rag into the darkness as he stood up and pulled his clothes back into place, wiping the back of his hand on his striped shirtfront before emptying his bottle.

* * * * *

Charles paced slowly around Catherine, like the wolf circling the lame calf before the kill. When he reached the point of his origins, his black boots barely inches from Catherine's stocked right fingers, Charles hissed in a menacingly soft voice, "Catherine," his voice a hair's breath above a whisper, "listen to me, and listen very well. I pray you hear every word and digest, me precious tart. Your life was given to you by your lady, Misty Dawn here; as surely as if she had given birth to you. You repay the woman who saved your life, how? By spitting on her acts of mercy, that were far better than you deserved." Charles paused and began his slow heavy footed pace once more before continuing his lecture, "You have been spared your life and the fruits of life were offered to help you in regaining your strength, you refused them and made a mockery of the gallant offer. There is far worse fare ate by many on this fine ship, that would be much more fitting to a punished convict upon her decks, as you are; and even less, you are but only booty captured in bloody battle on the high seas."

"That said," Charles' voice rose an octave as he stopped his pacing, one boot on either side of Catherine's cringing face, "mi tart, you should be punished." Charles took a deep breath and Catherine's fear erupted into a stream of silent tears. His words were like another session with the scourge on Catherine's screaming flesh, but all the more cruel. Catherine was certain that she would die of a broken heart if he did not stop his vicious attack upon her ears. She also feared that if his words ceased to flow, she would begin to feel the hot licks of leather once more, and she was sure would definitely destroy her body's grip on her soul.

Charles laughed soft and cold as he kneeled and pulled her face to his by her brown hair, "Unfortunately, you seem to not respond with your brain to the lash; and that is mute because, as your second savior, Fazul, has stated, 'you would not survive' the ordeal so soon." Charles icy blue eyes bored through her brown eyes like a smoldering ball through wormed timbers. "So what do you think we shall do about your latest misbehavior, m'trollop?"

Catherine could not help but look into his eyes, she could not find the strength to clamp her eyes shut. She was mesmerized, not unlike the rabbit staring into the eyes of the viper. The beauty in those eyes, did nothing to hide the danger that lurked there, but coated her with the magic of fear.

Charles knew he had her complete attention, a slow grin of cruelty spread across his lips as he began in a slow whisper, "Since killing you would be disagreeable, the men would not be happy to see you as a corpse, they prefer their meals hot. Also, Misty Dawn, your benefactor would hate to see you die after she put her own flesh to the lash in vain for you once already. I could not, in good conscience, allow her to take your blows as well so soon. Furthermore, you must need to eat, lest you catch your death of hunger. And since you have insulted my jewel in my cabin, I have selected a proper punishment for you."

Charles dropped her head and then said flatly and in a more conversational tone, "You will be fed. You will be at once begging forgiveness from Misty Dawn, and gaining sustenance. Once she is satisfied you may fill your stomach." Charles glowered down at Catherine, "But," He hissed threateningly, "should you not wish to beg forgiveness in the proper manner, I will have to raise my hand to your backside once more, m' sweet tart."

Catherine barely had time to contemplate his last words. She shrieked as Charles sprung like a tiger, his strong hands seizing her by the armpits, causing the rough wood of the heavy stocks to bite her flesh as he pulled her viciously behind him. Catherine's knees slid across the polished planks of the deck, the friction burning at the skin over her naked kneecaps. The cabin was lurching before Catherine's eyes; the foot of Charles' oversized bed loomed nearer as his strides lengthened. She gasped, certain that she would be raped by none other than the blackguard leader of this pack of dogs. Her fears were confirmed in her mind as he slung her body and stocks head long at the bed. Her entrapped arms and neck lead the way of her body sprawling over the foot rail and landing hard upon the feathers. Her breasts crushed against the foot rail of the bed, their rough landing shaking the tall posters slightly. Her tormented knees landing hard upon the deck with twin thumps under her weight. Her ass stuck out in a most vulnerable manner, but her feeble limbs could not flee nor defend herself under her burden.

Charles' tongue wetted his lips as he looked at her small ass lifted perfectly with her torso draped heavily over the foot of the bed. Dawn's gray-green eyes widened at the display, she was as certain as Catherine as to the woman's fate. A pang of jealousy rose in her breast as she caught a glimpse of Charles' tongue on his lips, that she wished to feel upon her own. Her small hand clenched in an unspoken rage, just before Charles spun at his waist to address her.

"Misty, m'pet," Charles said huskily, "it would appear that she owes you an apology." He raised a hand to quiet her as her mouth opened to protest for Catherine's sake. "If she should fail in her task, she can starve until she succeeds. Also, if she fails, she will feel my wrath, I think that those two incentives should be enough to persuade her to do her best for you." Dawn looked on as Charles turned his head back to Catherine for his last sentence. She was trying to comprehend what he was saying, and was beginning to wonder if his mind was quite well when he stretch out an upturned palm towards her at arms length without turning, "Come and receive you apology, my pet." Charles said in a tender tone over Catherine's blanket muffled sobs. They were both quite aware that Catherine had still held her ass raised, perhaps even lifted it a wee bit for more exposure to them both.

Dawn slowly reached for Charles' hand stepping forward tentatively. Charles gripped her hand ever so lightly, as if her fingers were made of flower petals that he did not wish to disturb. He led her towards the bed; she had to carefully step over Catherine's parted legs as they rounded the tall poster. Charles pulled with one hand a pile of soft pillows from the head of the bed to its mid-ship. Then he turned with a smile of adoration and pulled Dawn's lips to his with his ever so soft touch that had led her this far. His tongue dove deep into her mouth and parried with her own.

Dawn's arms flung tight around his thick neck in a fevered attempt to pull his lips to her more tightly. Charles let his hands slowly slip from her shoulders down the contours of her back, light as a feather, as if to not bring her latent stinging flesh back to full blaze out of kindness, but to warm her nerves with the presence of his fingers. Dawn moaned softly into his mouth as his fingers settled at her hips. She felt him lifting her to him and her head swam as she kissed him back passionately.

Charles gently set Dawn's backside upon the edge of the bed, his hand slipping down her leg as if to lift it upon the bed. Dawn let o of his neck and rolled onto the bed like a starved man to the table, her legs spread and inviting, her gray-green eyes smoldering as she looked at Charles bent over the bed's edge. "Nay, lass, "Charles smiled as he shook his head, crossing his strong arms across his powerful chest as he slowly rose to full height. " Don't look to me, to stoke that fire that is kindling; tis the ungrateful bitch that shall eat to your fill before she sees a morsel of food."

Charles words caused four eyes to pop out of their sockets. A silence fell over the cabin as Charles stood there with a lusty grin bout his face letting his words sink in. Catherine was the first to break it after a handful of seconds that seemed like hours. "N--no, no I-I can not do that!" She sputtered through fearful gasps. Charles' arms unfolded and one shot forth and grasped her by the hair, "Yes, you can, and you will!" Charles hissed.

Dawn's eyes were still wide, and a strange heat filled her body from the crux of her splayed thighs. Charles twisted Catherine's head around roughly and pressed her forward until her nose was brushed by Dawn's fiery golden down. Catherine's nostrils were flooded with the heavy scent of Dawn's desire. Her eyes were agape. She had never seen such an organ, dark pink and gorged with Dawn's pulse, glistening with her nectar. A pink rose in full bloom, its petals heavy with her own dew; surrounded by a tiny field of fire. Catherine felt a warmth that she could not deny, nor explain. Her blood beat hard in her head as she stared at Dawn's femaleness at point blank range. Catherine's lips parted slightly in her shock.

Dawn felt Catherine's breath hot upon her hungry flesh. Her legs tightened and she leaned back into the pillows. Her eyes met Catherine's eyes, which were locked hard upon her. "Uuuhhh," Dawn gasped and tilted her head back into the pillows as she flexed her lower abdomen in need, feeling Catherine's nose against her curls she tossed her head to one side and groaned softly, her hands filling and clutching the blankets into whirl pooled fists.

Charles grinned as he watched the pair became entrapped by their own curiosity into the web of his plan. "Catherine," he whispered softly, "if you ever want to eat again in this life, eat now. Make her scream, worship her for forgiveness... otherwise..." he let his words halt as he drove home his point by slapping Catherine's abused ass cheek with loud landing palm. Catherine bucked at the blow and screamed. Her chin pressed against Dawn's folds and Dawn arched towards it with a sigh. Catherine pulled her head back, her chin slick with the scent of Dawn, crying, "I-I can't..."

Charles cut her protest short with a slap on her opposite cheek and a violent jerk on her hair. "You will! You owe her your worthless life, you whore, now I suggest you earn your supper!" Charles growled in her ear and he plunged her face hard upon Dawn's awaken clit hard. Dawn's eyes shot wide and she moaned loudly and arched towards her reward.

Catherine was forced to take her first taste of a woman; heavy musky nectar stung her tongue. She was forced to suck hard, trying to catch her breath. She suddenly felt Dawn grinding against her. The fist in her hair relaxed and she felt a glow filling her body. Something was holding her hard upon Dawn's bud but it was not Charles, but just as powerful as his fist. She slowly drew Dawn's slick pulsing button through her teeth, feeling its skin pass through her pearly gates. Dawn Crushed her mouth full of her and was screaming somewhere beyond Catherine's reality. She felt warm thighs surround her stockaded head, squeezing out all sound but two fevered heartbeats and the distant roll of Dawn's enjoyment. Her tongue rolled the clit that she held firmly but gently between her teeth, tasting and feeling its every nerve, contour, and flavor.

She took a deep breath through hr nose and opened her lips further, sucking hard upon the clit as she plunged her tongue deep into Dawn's wide spread gates, scouring here, there, everywhere for more of that delicious nectar. She began twisting her head as she worked feverishly, whishing, praying that the stocks were not there so that she would have more movement to explore and share with this woman, who was moaning loud and louder at the end of her tongue, pumping her folds upon her lips in perfect response to her every attempt to please.

Catherine was consumed. A fire was welling slowly, but hotly deep within her that she had never thought possible. Never in her entire life had she wished to satisfy another, to serve them so completely. Her mind was lost completely to her body. A demoness had succeeded with her soul and she could feel the flames of hell upon her nether as she debased herself upon a common Irish whore; and she could not have cared, she craved.

Flood after flood, moan after louder moan filled Catherine's ears and mouth. She devoured both as if they were ambrosia and nectar and she was a Venus, latched upon a Venus well. Her hands strained against the stocks, not for escape, but to find some of the flesh of Dawn that they burned to feel, to hold, and to caress. Her own flower was pouting and sweating, she was awash in her own lust, a complete victim of Charles, Dawn, and the Raven.

Dawn was lifting and flexing, pumping and screaming. She was beside herself. She had no idea how long she had screamed, but she could not stop. Silence only came when she could no longer find breath to voice her pleasure. Her legs pumped and squeezed. Her arms thrashed and stretched. She was going mad with release. Nothing quite so powerful as a woman at your mercy and your sex, she thought to herself, and moaned again.

Charles leaned on the windowsill, a smile at his lips and bottle of rum in his hand. He watched as Catherine pumped her hips in search of something that she could not find. He listened to the symphony of muffled moans, loud shrieks, and flicking tongue. When he saw that exhaustion was falling upon them both he lifted an empty flagon to his lips, then set it aside. "Dawn, my sweet," Charles said smoothly, but loud enough for both to hear, "do you accept Catherine's apology?"

"Y-yessss...Yes, YES!!!" Dawn screamed and pushed herself hard to Catherine's cum greased lips in one final explosion that shook her entire being. Catherine moaned softly against her sex as her own body trembled with the satisfaction she had never known existed.