The Sapphic Pirate Miranda Pt. 03

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Nubile Esme receives her punishment from the BBW pirates.
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Part 3 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/23/2022
Created 09/20/2007
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Part the Third: In Which the Maiden Esme Winterblossom, Taken Captive By The Sapphic Pirate Miranda And Her Crew of BBWs (Brazen Buccaneer Wenches), (And Having Learnt The History of Captain Miranda's Betrayal in Love By a Man Who Found Her Growing Fat, And Her Own Capture At Sea By Berber Pirates, Which Led Miranda To Embark Upon Her Infamous Career As a Vengeful Lesbian Of The High Seas), Now Receives The Punishment Earlier Decreed For Her Failure To Offer Her Slender Young Body to Captain Miranda

* * *

June 21, 17--

The next morning I was roused from the cabin in which I was confined, fed an ill-tasting concoction, and dragged upstairs, this time however being allowed to dress before my punishment. I did not know whether to take that as a promising, or an ominous, Portent.

A drummer kept a slow beat while I was led to the mast and my hands tied above me. Captain Miranda was silent while sentence was read by Kate, the First Mate: "Twenty lashes." A short, gap-toothed hag with breasts dangling almost to her knees stood before me, eagerly fingering the cat'o'nine-tails; by the looks of her squat form her strength with it was equal to that of any bosun in the Navy.

A blindfold was tied around my eyes, and then I felt hands take my clothes and pull them down over my waist and down to my feet. Now I stood, blindfolded and naked, before the entire crew. "Ready?" I heard Kate call, and there was shuffling behind me. I tensed myself for the pain to come. "Lash!" she cried.

I felt something touch me and prepared for the sting of the whip, but in a fraction of a second I realized it was something else entirely-- a tongue, which went up my back, all the way to my neck. I wriggled as it tickled me, and then it went away.

"Lash!" the cry came again. And another tongue touched my buttock, and then traveled up the crack of my bottom, ending at the base of my spine.

"Lash!" And a third tongue traveled up my stomach. I turned to allow it fuller access and it went up my stomach and then to my breast, stopping to suck at my nipple before it was suddenly ripped away.

I stepped away from the mast and moved my legs apart to signal my acceptance. "Lash!" and the next tongue licked up my thigh and then kissed the petals of my sex, which opened to greet the strange lips.

Tongue after tongue tasted of me and still I could touch no one, only wriggle in delight at the pleasure being given me. One tongue licked at my backside and I spread wide to encourage it to explore deeper; one tongue licked at my sopping puss, but was taken away too soon; others suckled at my teats, licked my belly, nuzzled my neck and breathed hotly into my ear. But soon enough the twenty lashings were past and I was left standing there, unsatisfied and unable to pleasure myself. This then was my true torment-- to have felt the sting of pleasure, without its completion.

Dearest Diarie, I know that you must be astonished, when I tell you these things, at the change which had been effected in my attitudes by a week aboard this pirate Vessel. First that a young lady of my natural modesty should think nothing of walking around a ship half-undressed, her breasts exposed to all and sundry. This, of course, was made tolerable by the fact that it was a ship on which no Man was to be found, and thus little different than undressing before one's lady's maids or sisters.

Second was that I was so accepting of this business of being paraded around entirely naked, and tied to the mast to be whipped. Here I can only say that when one is faced with ruthless Power, as I was here, one must stiffen one's resolve and choose not to be overcome by the natural tendency of the fairer sex, at least the well-bred type, to collapse in helplessness at such indignities. I felt it was my duty, to England and to the Winterblossoms, to bear up bravely.

Third-- well, dear Diarie, I daresay you may have been shocked at some of the Sapphic activities which I have confessed to indulging in, in these pages. But in fact, whilst jailed in the altogether, I had had a great deal of time to think about my life and education and how I had come to this place.

Though some would look at my fair alabaster skin (now browning, alas, in this Tropical sun), and my great beauty, and consider me blessed, yet it must be reckoned that I have known great hardship as well. Father's profligacy at the Whist table, and his early Death from consumption (by which I do not mean the Disease of that name, but that he was consumed by a ravenous Hippopotamus at an exhibition of the Royal Zoological Society, after drinking too much ale and tumbling into its pit), thrust my Mother into a position which I despised bitterly, that of serving as mistress to Lord B.

As a young girl, I was often harsh and insulting to that kind and gentle man, and I see now that he loved Mother dearly, and greatly admired the way she served as his hostess and consort throughout the social season, though he could not wed her. To me, however, the shame of Mother's taking his bed, and everyone knowing it, to support us was all that mattered. I confess I thought her no better than a Wh-r-.

I was enlightened a bit when, upon the Lord's death, Mother married the mill-owner Skizzleby, a low and mulish man, but one whose wealth outweighed his complete lack of other charms. Now Mother had respectability-- but not love, nor was there any love for me. In short order I was shipped off to the Indies, in the company of Aunt Agatha and Rev'd Pinchwork, God rest their souls.

So where was I? Ah yes, Dear Diarie, standing naked with my arms tied above me on the main deck, blindfolded, and sorely missing the nameless tongues which had, moments before, been licking their way toward my breasts, cunny, and bottom, I knew that my one advantage stood in not merely meekly acquiescing in the demands placed upon my person by Captain Miranda, like any milkmaid being pawed by the lord of the manor and desperate not to be discharged. I must take control of the situation for myself, much as Miranda herself had done when she had seized this ship seven years earlier-- or as my own Mother had done in very different, --yet not so different at that, circumstances in London many years ago.

I twisted my arms around under the ropes until I was facing outward, and then carefully walked myself around the mast halfway until I was, I believed, standing before Captain Miranda. Then I set my legs akimbo, and shouted loudly:

"Here I stand, revealed and with a most wet and inflamed sex. Is there no one on this ship who will give me the relief I need by licking it for me?"

I could hear the shock and titters from the crew. There would probably have been no shortage of volunteers momentarily, had not Miranda called out "Let her down." My blindfold was removed and then my hands untied from the mast. Miranda sat, perhaps ten yards away. Again, surprise was my best asset. I began to run, naked as a newborn bairn, straight toward her, and leaped over the rail to land myself in her lap, a place where I seemed but a tiny boat deep in the folds and swells of a vast sea.

Grabbing her head by each side, I put my lips directly on hers, and began to kiss her most vigorously, thrusting my tongue into her mouth and rubbing my opened sex against her thigh. Then suddenly she shrieked and batted me off of her with one of her fists, knocking me to the deck. She clutched her lip, from which blood poured freely where I had bitten it.

"You little bitch!" she said, standing over me, huge and powerful. "I be bleeding!"

"You spilled the blood of those you shared your bed with," I said, wiping a drip from my lip and spreading it on one of my nipples, in imitation of some savage rite. "I wanted to do the same." And I bent down and licked the blood from my nipple, as best I could with my small breasts.

I got up and jumped at her again, throwing my legs around each side of her commodious belly and my arms around her neck, and then licking the rivulet of blood up off her chin. "Take me to your bed now, or by God you'll never have so fine a chance again," I said.

"Conceited little termagant ye are," she said, and walked with me stretched around her, bouncing on her vast belly and disappearing between her huge breasts, toward her quarters. "Miss Kate, the ship be yourn," she said, and we disappeared behind her closed door.

* * *

June 22, 17--

Oh Diarie,

I should have carried the events of two days previous to their conclusion, but after recounting the tale of my lashing up to the point where I ended, dear Diarie, I had an urgent need even greater than my duty to you, and so I shall finish the account today.

With me, in the altogether, straddling her midsection, my wet puss sliding against her fat belly and her huge teats flopping up and down on my legs, she carried me into her cabin and threw me roughly onto the bed. I leaped back up and grabbed her ample midsection, pressing my lips to hers and vigorously thrusting my tongue into her mouth. I could tell she was still apprehensive lest I bite her again, but soon melted under the ardor of my passion.

From there I moved down to one of her massive breasts, suckling at it whilst unlacing her breeches. Once I had them down around her legs, I turned her toward the bed and induced her to lay back upon it. Once she did, her huge body spreading across the mattress, breasts rolling off to each side like the eggs sliding off a mound of potatoes, massive brown belly with its criss and cross of scars, thick masts of legs ending in a rounded mons, I leaped on top of her, my thin pink form almost lost in the undulating vastness of her girth. I licked her thick, thumb-like nipples again, then slid down the slope of her belly to arrive between her legs, spreading them apart so that the bright pink slit between the rolls of her thighs was visible and moist.

Squeezing my head as best I could in between them, feeling in danger of being swallowed up entirely by an avalanche of flesh, I licked at her ripe, dripping cunt, rubbing my own pussy at the same time until I felt my Tingle overtake me. As I reached the crest of the sensation, I reached up to one of her huge flopping teats and grabbed hold of the ivory pin stuck through the nipple, and twisted it in throes of my passion until she shrieked and bucked me off of her and onto the floor. I ended my Tingle sitting in front of her in a jumble of arms and legs, rubbing my splayed cunny.

Now she grabbed me by my hair and threw me again onto the bed, face down. "You fucking little minx," she said. "I'll show you what fucking is on this here ship," and she threw her whole immense bulk onto me, grinding me into the bed as I felt two of her fingers slide up my cunny and her immense breasts and belly surround my slender self.

If she thought I was to be cowed at last, however, she was much mistaken. "Oh, do not put your manly instrument into my Bottom," I cried, in a falsetto voice. "I am but a most innocent girl and you are a bold Hussar--"

"Little bitch from Hell!" she cried, leaping up.

"No more than this ship and its band of piratical pussy-sniffers," said I, turning to face her. "But if you can't show my Bottom how a Hussar makes love--"

"There was no love in it, and there will be none in it for you," she said, and she used her fat foot to push my face down into the bed and hold me there. I saw her grab a long, twisted horn, perhaps that of a gazelle or a narwhal, and coat its tip quickly with oil from a bottle. Then, holding me down roughly with one arm, she pushed my legs apart and pushed the end of the horn against my Bottom, until it began to screw itself into my bowels.

The sensation was both painful and exquisite, even more overwhelming than the Tingle itself, though not so complete in its delight; as each ridge of the horn opened my Bottom wider, so I pushed against it, drawing it in further and taking it as a wife engulfs her husband's manliness. I could not bear it without release and so I rubbed my own cunny again as she forced the horn deeper and deeper into my bowels and my buttocks rode up and down like a groomsman on a pony. Within a moment the Tingle had come to me again, and I cried out aloud in the magnificent agony of my Bottom being so used in this fashion.

When I was finished she pulled it roughly from me and I rolled over on my back and lay there, my legs spread and my pussy open wide to the world, as my giantess love, Miranda, spread over me with her rolling fat. "Is there nothing I can do that will shame you?" she asked.

"Nothing, my darling, my captain, my mistress," I said.

"So ye be one with us, we Brazen Buccaneer Wenches? Ye renounce the world of Men and all their false promises?" she asked, as she rubbed her hand over my petite bosom.

"I do not say that I may not have reason to take a man to my bed, if it is to my advantage," said I. "But I am a Sapphic pirate born, I know that now. And it is my wish only to lap at pirate pussy and suckle at pirate teat and fu-, er, fuck Hell-wenches like myself."

"Hmm," said Miranda, looking thoughtfully. "And Amelia? Do you not care for her alone?"

"Amelia is a dear," said I. "I assume you bade her win me over to the delights of Sapphic love?"

"Indeed," said Miranda, her huge leg rubbing up against mine, and me squirming my hip against her sopping cunny, which made her momentarily roll her eyes up in her head. "She seemed the one with the shapeliness and youth most likely to appeal to a lady such as yourself."

"A perfectly wise choice," said I. "I do not blame her for the small deception. I should like Amelia to remain my cabin mate, though not, of course, my only bed partner."

"As you wish," Miranda nodded, and she thought for a moment as I used my foot to rub against her wet, brackish sex. "It seems to me that you present us with an opportunity we have never had before. A beautiful young woman of position and lack of scruples in the bed chamber-- you could be most advantageous to a pirate crew. Of course, it might mean taking a great many to your bed, both men and women. But the rewards in both wealth and amusement might be vast. Are ye willing, my fine vixen?"

"I am," I said, already feeling a hint of the Tingle at the many adventures this promised me. I eyed the horn, still sitting on its shelf, glistening with oil. "How shall we seal our compact?

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...

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