Overboard

"As the crew laughed and jeered, the captain took his position behind me and removed his breeches. I felt the head of his manhood nudge against my nether lips, but before he entered me, I heard him call our "Where is my cabin boy? Joshua!" There was a cry, and a burly sailor emerged from behind the bulkhead, dragging the boy I had seen earlier by the ear. Ignoring the young man's struggles and cries of pain, the brute thrust him through the throng of seamen, until he stood right before me. Afraid to meet his captains gaze, and ashamed to look at me, he stared at the deck, trembling.

"'Come now, lad,' the captain admonished him, 'I'll have no boys upon my ship! Only men! And men don't hide from women! They have their way with them! Am I right?' As the crew roared their agreement, the brute who had fetched the boy grabbed his breeches in both hands and yanked them down. The shouts of the crew were suddenly swallowed in a collective gasp! For hanging between the spindly thighs of this skinny whelp of a boy hung the most enormous penis I had ever seen. Take no offense, my love. Surely you know that your manhood is more than I could ever want or need."

"None taken." I assured her, convincingly, I hoped.

"But," she continued, "though only half erect, it appeared to be eight or nine inches long, and nearly as thick as my wrist, with a head the size of a small plum. 'Well,' the captain said, 'I may have spoken too soon! That's surely a manly weapon you have there, lad. But do you know how to use it?' With that, the captain buried himself in my swollen snatch with a single thrust, and, laughing, began to pump. Joshua raised his eyes to mine, and silently said 'I'm sorry.' I smiled at him. I wanted to let him know that it was all right. In truth, knowing that there was one decent soul aboard this ship of decadent fools filled me with a great sense of relief. But this was no time for words.

"I took his amazing tool in my hand, feeling it throb and grow larger still. Raising the bulbous head to my lips, I kissed the tip lightly, then engulfed him in my mouth. I could only take a few inches of his cock into me, so I concentrated on pleasuring his cock head, and the sensitive spot just beneath the slit. Soon, very soon, the captain let out a groan, and I felt his seed splash into me. Joshua had not yet cum. I looked up at him. His eyes were shut tightly, and beads of sweat trickled down his anguished face. He was struggling to hold back, obviously not wishing to defile me with his ejaculate. But I knew that the crew would never let him leave unsatisfied. I called out softly to him, 'Joshua.' He opened his eyes, releasing fresh tears, and looked at me with shame and longing. 'Cum for me, Joshua', I urged him, 'please.' His eyes rolled back, his legs went rigid, and he came. Oh, how he came! I swear, it was as though it was the first orgasm of his life. The torrent of hot, sticky cream that erupted from his outsized organ was truly astonishing. It splashed across my face and neck, running in viscous rivulets down my chest, dripping from my nipples to form pearly pools on the crate below. When he finally exhausted his load, he looked down at me with what can only be described as adoration. I knew I had one friend among this wretched company.

"My relief was short lived, however. At an order from the captain, we were herded, naked, back into our cell in the hold. There, we comforted one another as best we could. That evening, after the crew had eaten their supper, their table scraps were gathered into a pail, and brought to our cell. Demeaning as it was, this was to be our only food. So we shared the few edible scraps we were able to find among the bones and gristle. Late that night, as we fitfully slept, I was awakened by the sound of the key in the lock. I despaired, expecting to see one or more of the crew returning to abuse us further. But it was Joshua. He had brought bread and clean water to drink, and a pail of hot water, that we might bathe. He begged us to be silent. For if he were discovered, his punishment would be death.

"And so it went, day after day. Each afternoon we were brought up on deck, to amuse the crew at the expense of our dignity. Any refusal was dealt with harshly. Chantel, always the most spirited among us, forgot herself and struck one of her abusers. For this, she was lashed to the bowsprit, and left to hang for hours, like the figurehead of the ship. The crew paraded by, groping her, slapping her naked arse, shoving their rough fingers into her most secret places. When they took her down, she was physically undamaged, but her spirit was broken. Despite Joshua's kind intervention, I soon lost hope. Every night, I prayed for deliverance or death to take me from this nightmare. One week out to sea, my prayers were answered.

"Just before dawn on the seventh day, we awoke to a sound of thunder. There was a great commotion on deck, and we feared that a storm had overtaken us. The thunder roared again, and the ship lurched, as though struck by the hand of God himself! We scrambled to the tiny porthole and beheld our deliverance. A ship, flying the flag of the royal navy, was bearing down on us, her forward cannons blazing. Our elation turned quickly to fear as we realized that she did not know we were here. Firing indiscriminately, she might well kill the very people she set out to save! Frantically, we fled from the window and huddled together in a corner of the cell. In the next moment, we were hit broadside. There was a tortured crack of splintering wood as the ship buckled under the blow. I looked up through swirling dust and smoke, and saw that the door was ajar, knocked open by the impact. The four of us rose as one and poured through the open door. We made our way to the ladder that led topside. One by one we climbed up, intent on throwing ourselves overboard and swimming to our rescue. The others went before me. I was halfway up when strong hands grabbed me by the waist and pulled me from the ladder. I fell backward and landed..... on Joshua!

"There was panic in his eyes. 'M'lady', he said, 'you mustn't go up there. That is not Her Majesty's ship. It belongs to Captain DeVries, known as Redbeard. The royal colors he flies are a ruse. Though your life on this ship is hell, only slow death awaits you on the other.'

"'Joshua,' I said, 'There are worse things than death in this world, and life here is among them.' 'Very well, then.' He replied, his gaze hardening, 'But do not embrace death, risk it! Risk it where there is at least a chance of life!' With that, he grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the stern. The ship had begun to take on water, and soon we were knee-deep in a rising flood. Joshua forced open a door, and led me into the storeroom. A cannonball had ripped a corner from the stern, and the sea was pouring in. Joshua hauled down a large wooden tub, and helped me climb in. He instructed me to lie in the bottom of the tub, and covered me with a piece of sailcloth. 'Stay low and don't move. DeVries' men will be too busy plundering the ship, and your three friends, I fear, to take notice of an old tub. May providence guide you to a welcoming shore.' And then, before I could protest, he gave the tub a shove, and I floated out onto the sea.

"For what seemed like hours, I huddled, trembling in my makeshift lifeboat, afraid to breathe let I give myself away. Finally, I could bear it no longer. Slowly, I lifted the cloth and raised my head to peer over the edge. I had drifted several hundred yards from my prison ship, which now keeled heavily to her starboard side, as black smoke belched from her midsection. DeVries' ship was sailing triumphantly off to sea, leaving the carnage behind. Anguished screams echoed across the water, as dorsal fins broke the surface. I closed my eyes, unable to bear the sight before me. I dared not hope that my companions, and my savior Joshua had survived, but only prayed that they had died with merciful speed.

"For two days and nights I drifted on the open sea, growing ever weaker and more delirious from hunger and thirst. On the third day, or perhaps the fourth, I'd lost all sense of time, I awoke to feel the tub rolling in a gentle surf. I pulled back the sail cloth, and dragged myself up. I was dizzy, quite near to death, and a vision swam before me; a vision of trees and sand. There were hazy figures on the sand, pointing at me and gesturing wildly. Then my last bit of strength deserted me, and I collapsed back into unconsciousness.

"How much time passed, I do not know. But I finally awoke on a soft bed, this very bed, in fact. I was surrounded by beautiful young girls who were bathing me, and caring for my wounds. When they saw me open my eyes, they became very excited, and one ran off. She soon returned, accompanied by a woman of great beauty and stature. Like my attendants, she wore no clothing, but her neck, arms and waist were adorned with splendid golden jewelry, and a crown, this crown, was upon her head. She began to speak to me in a strange tongue. I didn't understand a word, of course, so I simply smiled and nodded. She kept repeating the same phrase, and I finally realized that she was asking my name. When I replied 'Mariah', their eyes went wide, and they instantly dropped to their knees! It seems that in Kenundi..."

"Kenundi?" I asked? "What is Kenundi?"

"Kenundi is the goddess of the sea. This island is her home. These people are her children, and their language is her gift. So, it is all Kenundi. And in the language of Kenundi, 'Mariah' means 'Ocean Light'. It is the name of the ruler that their prophecy claims would one day be sent from the sea goddess to lead her children to new prosperity."

"I have always found your name to be lovely, my dear Mariah," I said, "but I never dreamed it would one day serve you so well."

"Indeed," Mariah replied. "Thank goodness it was not my dear sister, Lucretia, who suffered this adventure!"

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"In Kenundi," Mariah explained, "'Lucretia' translates roughly as 'Eat me'."

"I see your point." I laughed.

"Once they had nursed me back to health, a great ceremony was held, in which I was proclaimed "Alani" or Queen of Kenundi. That was three months ago. And now, by providence I cannot imagine, the fates have brought you to me. I had given up all hope of ever seeing you again. And now, here you are!"

I raised myself back up, kneeling before her, and said with a smile "Yes, my love, my Queen, I am here. I am your servant. How may I please you?" Her lips curled into a seductive grin, as she climbed up further and knelt before me, our bodies inches apart. She undid the single clasp on her robe, reached up, and drew it off of her shoulders, revealing her magnificent body. She ran her hands slowly down her breasts, allowing each finger to climb and fall over her swelling nipples. She pushed down over her taut stomach, down toward her pelvis, until her fingers entangled themselves in her downy pubic hair. Widening her stance slightly, Mariah curled her fingers up between her thighs, and with eyes half closed, cupped her pouting lips. Pulling back, she drew away the ebony curls, revealing the slightly parted, glistening source of her pleasure. Opening her eyes, she gazed deeply into mine and said, "As we say in Kenundi, 'Lucretia'!"

I gently took her head in my hands and drew her lips to mine. A brushing taste was all it took to ignite all those months of passion. We crushed our mouths together, our tongues dancing in joyous reunion. I grasped her shoulders and turned. Laying her down on the soft fleece, I covered her body with mine. I tangled my fingers in her hair as I covered her eyes, her lips, her neck with desperate kisses, constantly breathing "Mariah. Mariah. Mariah.", like an incantation. I brought my face to her breasts, inhaling her perfume, feeling their soft warmth against my cheeks and lips. I teased each nipple with furtive licks and kisses, enticing her areola to grow flush and full, her chest rising with the breath of passion's labors.

Pausing to dip my tongue into the well of her navel, I continued through her curly forest, to the pool of her desire. I taunted her with licks, nibbles, and kisses on her silken thighs, as she writhed her hips, her lips searching for mine. Finally, I graced her with a merciful lick at the wellspring. She gasped, then reached down and pulled back on her outer lips. The flower of her womanhood opened before me like an offering. I placed my hands under the cheeks of her delightful derriere, and raised her hips, relishing her wanton beauty, her womanly scent. I placed my open mouth full upon her, allowing my tongue to explore her slick folds, probing deep into her expectant hole. Like the starving man I was, I feasted on her, alternately licking and sucking on her lips, the screaming nubbin of her clit, fucking her with my urgent tongue. Mariah thrashed upon the bed, lost in orgasmic waves. Her back arches, her cheeks tightening in my hands and a sigh and a scream escaped her lips in the same breath as she rode the crest.

I lowered her back down to the bed and removed my robe. My cock, having recovered from his earlier adventure, throbbed almost painfully. I moved up Mariah's body, leaving a trail of wet kisses in my wake, until the head of my member nudged against his destination. Mariah placed her hands on my chest and said, "No, my love. Wait."

"WAIT!!" I cried, incredulously, "But... Why?"

"My darling," she said with a mischievous grin, "It's been so long! I must say hello to my old friend." With a knowing smile, I sat back on my haunches. Mariah sat up and leaned forward, taking my straining phallus in her soft, cool hands. Were he not so firmly attached to my loins, my one-eyed monster would have danced for joy. As it was, he simply twitched. Maria planted a warm, wet kiss on the purple head. "Hello, dear friend" she proclaimed to my penis, "I thought I'd never see you again!" She parted her lips and drew in the head, swirling her talented tongue across every nerve. As she swallowed more and more of my shaft, she began to hum, sending vibrations deep into my body. Down she went, until her nose nuzzled my hair, and my cock head nuzzled her throat. Retreating, she worshipped the sensitive head of my prick, then plunged down again. After two or three of these journeys, I felt myself begin to boil. Placing my hands on either side of her head, I tilted her eyes to mine.

"We had best stop now," I said, "unless you want your friend to answer you. And I think there is somewhere else that message should go."

Mariah smiled and lay back. She cupped her breasts in her hands and spread her legs wide before me. "I agree." She said, raising her hips up to me. "Take me. Fill me, my love! Fuck me!" I placed the tip of my manhood at her opening, and with one long, smooth, slow thrust, buried myself in her steaming wetness. As the throbbing of my cock wrestled with the contractions of her vagina, I ground my pelvis against hers, crushing her clit between us. I collapsed forward, laying full upon my beloved Mariah, and began to gyrate, pumping rhythmically in and out of her burning pussy. I covered her mouth with kisses, plunging my tongue between her lips in sync with our lovemaking. Soon, the point of no return was breached. I arched my back as my seed erupted, and cried out "MARIAAAAHHH!" Wracked in the throes of her own fulfillment, she cried back "MELKIORE!"

Huh?

Suddenly, a thunderous roar, like the sound of a thousand voices arose from the village outside. Gongs sounded, and conch shell horns pealed off into the distance. I leapt off of Mariah, the last shot of my cum arching high into the air, landing with a gleeful splash on he belly. "What the hell is that?!" I cried to my startled queen. "And who's Melchiore?"

Maria sat up. "Why, you are, my love. Or you must be. The Kenundi legend says that the Fire God, Oakasha, will send his son, Melchiore, to be a mate for the 'Ocean Light'. The Kenundi saw you swim from a great, distant fire on the ocean, and then you fired your pistol. Naturally, they assumed that you were Melchiore."

"I see," I said dejectedly, "but 'Melchiore'?"

"I'm sorry my dear, but we can't all be named after deities." She teased, "Surely, you don't expect the Fire God to have a son named 'Roger'!"

"But I like Roger." I pouted. "Oh, very well, Melchiore it is. Now, what's going on out there?"

"The ceremony has begun, my love." Mariah said "Congratulations, your majesty. You're about to marry the queen." She rose from the bed and retrieved her royal garment. Fastening it about her with the pin, she held out her hand.

"A king?" I mused.

"And the son of a god." She reminded me. I stared thoughtfully into space for a moment. "Hmmm." I said finally, "I think I can live with that." I put on my robe and leapt off of the bed. I took the hand of my goddess queen, and we strode out of the hut to greet our subjects.