Pirate on the High Seas Ch. 02

Carey went to grab the door handle but Belle waved him away, motioning him to knock. He did so and the sound of a key turning gave credence to Belle's caution. Carey pushed the door hard, propelling himself inward and the privateer Captain backward, landing on the deck, threatened by two brace of pistols. Julia grabbed a sash to bind his arms, Carey then tied Teach's wrists with a short length of rope. Heavy dark stubble now covered the face that Belle had wounded, as black as the look he gave them as they hoisted him to his feet and led him to the after deck. Lashed to the ship's wheel and wearing his hat, the young Captain was an unmistakable figure to the next returning boat. At the gangway, Belle heaved the wooden block with a hook attached down toward the boat that was just about to touch the ship's side. Allowing the block to ease down further, it was caught by one of her own crew who attached it to a barrel sling for hoisting aboard. Belle and Carey heaved on the rope, much as they had done previously but then, when the barrel was only just clear of the boat, they swung it hard at the most vigilant of the guards, knocking him overboard. A second guard, thinking it an accident, turned to help his shipmate and fell with Carey's knife in him. The Harrier's crew used their oars to hit the pair relentlessly until both were dead. Belle waved them aboard, describing their takeover of the ship, explaining they had to alert the others and to stop the next boat leaving the shore. The pistols were handed to the rowers, who secreted them about their person, Belle and Carey sat as guards holding the boarding pikes.

The small boat tipped alarmingly as it returned to the beach amongst the breakers, the oarsmen jumped out and drew the craft up the beach. Another boat was being loaded, the two guards were sitting in the shade of some palms, their muskets laid across their thighs. Belle and Carey approached with a careless swagger, holding the pikes carelessly, the two guards squinted, trying to make out just who they were. At less than ten paces the guards realised they didn't know the newcomers but the short pikes were hurled like spears wounding them badly, their muskets now seemed too heavy to use. Knives finished the job. With more weapons it was easier to free Belle's crew at the stream, no further bloodshed was needed, the Harrier's crew out numbered the privateers. Left by the stream to fend for themselves they watched as their boats pull back to the ship.

Two boats were hoisted aboard, men ran to the capstan and began to pull the ship up to her anchor. Johnson provisioned a boat for those left ashore, released Captain Teach and allowed him, under threat of muskets, to row ashore. Belle and Reno stood at the binnacle studying Teach's charts, it would seem the Harrier was to sail to Kingston, where she and the cargo would be sold. Those of Harrier's crew helping to sail her would probably be used to offload her, then be imprisoned. Although the sloop was better rigged, there was insufficient crew to handle her properly. The wind had veered around to the West, not the best point of sail to drive North but if it continued backing over the next day or so there was a chance they would arrive shortly after Harrier. Belle gave her orders to Reno, whose voice rang out over the ship,

"Weigh anchor, Make sail."

Four men struggled with the capstan, the rest ran to the unfamiliar shrouds, running aloft and untying the gaskets around the folds of sail. The breeze caught the falling canvas, Belle helped her crew with the sheets, hauling them tight, offering the spread of sail to the wind. The small crew had to address each mast in turn, the foremast would allow for steerage as the other suits of sail were unfurled. Reno held the wheel as the sloop began to feel her head, steering the most Northerly course possible without paying off too much to Leeward, he kept the compass needle within a few points of North. With all sail set, Belle sent the crew below to get food. 'Hogswill' had fried up slices of salt pork in lard, laid on thick slices of hard bread, the hot fat dripping through over calloused fingers.

Belle stood lookout close to Reno as Julia came up from the cabin, the young woman kissed her pirate lover, thankful that she had been rescued. Slyly insinuating her fingers through Belle's partly open shirt and sliding them over firm breasts. Belle moaned, her nipples were stiffening under the tender caress, her dick wasn't too far behind. Julia wanted to show how grateful she was, her mind in turmoil as she knelt, unfastening the buckle on the Captains belt, easing the duck breeches down smooth, muscular legs. In order to balance on the moving deck, Belle stepped out of the restrictive clothes, her cock now jutting like the bowsprit. Still kneeling, Julia kissed the rigid organ, not worrying that Reno could see her, the fact that he could watch made her feel like a wanton. She slipped her lips over the head of the solid cock, pushing down it's length, feeling the veiny weapon on her tongue as it slid to the back of her throat. Belle trembled, the delicious feeling never failed to amaze her, Julia's fingers held the captive cock as she slowly bobbed her head up and down. Belle's hands moved on their own volition to hold the head of her mistress, guiding her ministrations as she sucked the throbbing cock.

Reno was openly watching now but alert to the sounds of the crew below. Julia had got into her stride, the sucking and wanking had Belle up on tip toes, thrusting at the lovely girl's face, wanting only to cum in that tender mouth. Julia's hands held onto Belle's firm thighs, feeling the muscles bunch and flex in rhythm to her sucking. She stepped up the tempo, wanting to relax her gorgeous Captain after such butchery. The wanking increased, as did her sucking, Belle was revelling in the sensation sweeping through her, the tingling feeling in her loins, the delicious sucking of her cock, it was just too much. She groaned as she spurted, filling the warm mouth with a huge quantity of sticky goodness, pumping hot cum into the one she loved. Reno licked his lips as Belle pulled out from her lover, cock shining with cum and saliva, easing over full lips, falling a little and swinging weightily to the slight roll of the vessel.

Belle donned her breeches and closed her shirt, moving closer to Reno as he turned the hour glass, ringing out six bells of the second dog watch. She cast an eye over the sails and mast head 'tell tale' checking the wind direction.

"I'll have some food sent up directly and arrange for a replacement at eight bells."

She walked the deck checking the rigging once more, at the compass she took note of their heading then went below to plot their track. Julia had got food and wine for them, placed ready on a hanging table. There was no need to hinge up the fiddles to stop the plates from moving, the ship was ploughing through the water quite well, heeled over but without too much roll. Belle ticked off a list in her head, there were stores to check, ships guns to attend to, watches to set and their speed to be measured. She sent old Jim to set the wooden 'log' floating behind them, he could be relied upon to count the knots correctly as the string played out, any miscalculation now would put them in error over the long distance to Jamaica. Selecting men for each watch, she told them they would reduce sail only if it threatened the safety of the ship, their job was to haul braces to maintain speed. Six men to a watch was little enough for that job. The first watch was due on duty as soon as possible, the other watch starting at midnight, little enough time for sleep. Belle could always order the men but asked the first watch, to check food stores and the long guns. She returned topside to keep a lookout with Reno, occasionally looking through the charts that covered their route.

When the watch had discharged their duties and assembled on deck, she finally went below. Julia had waited to eat with her lover, tired, they ate the cold fried pork and bread, perhaps cut a little thinner then the crew had demanded but it tasted as good as freedom itself.

Belle awoke as dawn was breaking, all was silent, although the fading sound of two bells had stayed like an after image in her mind. The sloop creaked alarmingly, a resounding slap of canvas as the foot of a sail broke free, the squeak of blocks as hands re tightened it. Different noises to her own ship but she was confident in her crew, from the sound of the water sluicing alongside they were still making good headway. She arose naked from the bed, lifted a water jug free from it's stowage and filled a bowl half sunk into a cabinet. She stood on a rug, washing from the top down, her hair hung wetly about her face as the wash cloth rubbed gritty soap under her arms. A pair of arms enfolded her, followed shortly by soapy hands caressing her breasts as Julia continued her ablutions for her. The hands disappeared briefly, returning with more soap for the soft dick that hung watching the small rivulets of water trickling down a leg. A massaging wash for it and for the balls hanging below revived the sleepy organ as if the soap itself was some kind of aphrodisiac. Belle felt Julia's hands soaping across her ass, hefting the taut globes and cleaning the cleft, ensuring she was clean in all but thought. She turned and slipped her arms around an equally naked Julia, kissing the most wonderful girl she had ever seen.

Taking the soap she rubbed suds over the tender skin of the young woman, stroking her neck, moving on to shoulders, then languorously down to pert full breasts. How she loved to caress these weighty symbols of womanhood, stirring the senses, making the tiny nipples grow and swell. Her hands moved down to the junction of Julia's thighs, riffling through the light downy curls, not touching the object of her desire but kneeling to kiss the breasts she loved so much. Running a tongue around a stiffening nipple, sucking gently on it as her hand moved across to stroke the flesh and crowning tip of the other gorgeous mound. Julia moaned as desire built within her, Belle's fingers lowered to dance their magic over pubis and thighs, from her kneeling position she could gaze upon the cutest pussy in Christendom. Mouth watering, she leant forward and lightly placed a kiss on the sweet nether lips of her darling, lust carried her away and she rained kisses upon it. Soft, moist lips met and Belle could not restrain her tongue from flicking out and lightly probing the slick outer folds with their light covering of hair. Within moments her tongue had slipped into the silky inner regions of her lover, probing, seeking the small nub of her clitoris and flicking beneath it. All Belle could wish for, was to stimulate the length of this well of happiness, lightly touching around the hooded clitoris, her tongue a ghost of sensation, a brief sense of feeling before fading.

Julia's hips arched toward her lover, seeking an increase in touch to match her rising level of desire. A finger then pressed into her, the sensation releasing sweet nectar from her pussy, trickling over the devout tongue as it worshipped at the altar of her womanhood. Belle's own desire was evident in the increased size of her cock, nothing would please her more than to be balls deep in her lover right now but Julia needed time to savour the sensations sweeping through her. They continued in this way for some while before Julia dragged Belle to the bed, eager to feel that cock inside her. They lay kissing as Belle lifted a leg over Julia and brought her cock close to the young woman's sex. Julia took hold, guiding it to slip into the outer vestibule of her sex. Belle felt the warm, wet, silky walls close over her cock, it was like sinking into a warm pot of honey. They both sighed as the thick cock drove slowly inward, filling Julia and fulfilling Belle's wish to take the girl to paradise. Starting slowly, they each explored the feelings their body was giving them, small inputs of touch, sight and smell. Hips ground together, then moved reluctantly apart, only for love to draw them together again. Their bodies slid in lubricated bliss, liquid sensation stimulating nerve endings, tender intimacies brought forth by another's flesh.

Their lovemaking gradually grew in intensity, each wanting more, both giving their all. Belle was thrusting smoothly, Julia rose to meet her, each blending their movements to the roll of the ship, as if they were one with the whole vessel. For some while the trinity continued at that pace but soon the couple began to leave the ponderous ship in their wake as they stepped up their rhythm. Julia was gasping as each thrust drove home, Belle too was grunting with energy expended, they were approaching the climax of their union, each hoping to let the other climax first. Belle quickened her pace, until, stomach clenching, she shot her load into the soft depths of that sweet pussy. Julia mewled in reluctant acceptance but kept bucking her hips, trying to keep the erect organ sliding within her. Softening, but still making sensual contact, the thrusting weapon brought Julia the orgasm she desired. She rose up, her hands pushing Belle's ass, forcing all she could of the thickness inside of her, feeling the waves of pleasure and emotion sweeping through her body. They lay panting, allowing contentment to seep through them.

Four bells rang out, Belle needed to go on deck to check the course and speed, she'd heard small changes to the sail trim and needed to plot their track once more. Reno was back on watch holding the huge ship's wheel, explaining to Johnson why a lashing had been made from each side, down to the deck. Such a contrivance kept arm strain to a minimum and if the ship dropped off the wind it would prevent sheering off course. In a heavy sea and with vagaries of wind such a move could rip sails or break spars but it wasn't their ship and therefore a reasonable measure for all possible speed. Belle asked about the course the previous helmsman had held and checked the present course. The wind had backed further, becoming more Southerly, their course reflected it. Unfortunately for them, ahead, the Harrier also enjoyed the change of wind and could show a clean pair of heels when handled smartly. The moon was waning, in two nights time just the smallest sliver of light would be visible, a harbour approach in the black sloop would surely succeed. The crew tested the long guns, ensuring the powder was good and the iron balls were a tight enough fit. Wedges were fitted to lower the guns, so the heavy shot would penetrate a ship at the waterline at a distance 50 yards or so. Pistols and cutlasses were issued to each man, for checking or sharpened as required.

The few scattered lights shining from windows on the new Port Royal harbour, showed few were awake. Not much had survived the earthquake some nine years earlier and rebuilding was slow. The wind was now a few points off West, the ship heading North, stole silently into the inner harbour, maintaining a good speed. The wheel spun, turning West, swiftly taking the way off the ship, the sails flat aback. It was if they had run aground, the ship was almost stationary before the braces turned the sails in order to catch the wind once more. In the dark Belle could hardly see the 'Harrier' bare masted and tied to the dock, the stern lantern shone fitfully, no other lanterns showed aboard. The swimmers stood ready, it was difficult to find sailors who could swim, they generally reasoned that if you went overboard, it was as well to drown quickly. There were three besides Belle, prepared to swim a few yards to their old ship. Nearing the dock, hanging from ropes, feet braced against the side of the sloop they inched their way down into the water, it flowed over their legs due the speed of the ship. Johnson spun the wheel, the sudden turn to Larboard brought the sloop into the wind and broadside to Harrier, the swimmers had an easy distance, closing on hull of their ship. In silence three of them climbed the side facing the open harbour, Belle ducked under the ships bottom and surfaced close to the taut cable holding the barque to the dock. She clambered onto a row boat to exit the water and reaching up, grabbed the cable, hoisting her self onto it. Soon her head was level with the scuppers and she could see the deck appeared deserted, holding the braces she climbed over the taffrail, her crew opposite had done the same. Two of them stayed forward, she and Blake went aft to the gangway, the most likely place to find the harbour watch.

There, a clay pipe glowed, upside-down in the smokers mouth, guarding against the light rain. Belle crept closer in the shadow of the nettings, Blake had a longer route, going past them, to circle back under the poop deck. Belle waited, adrenaline flowing, sizing up the two on watch, her knife held ready. Blake was a darker shadow close to them now, he moved to one of the men, Belle nodded and crept up to the other, they arose and lashed out simultaneously. The watch had no chance, they met their maker as their throats spilled their life's blood, they were eased down to the deck, for fear others would wake. Blake joined her to check the main cabin, a red headed man slept in Belle's bed, she wanted to kill him there and then but strategy dictated that she held him prisoner. A blow from the butt of his own pistol changed sleep into unconsciousness, a few turns of a rope and a couple of tight knots and he was going nowhere, hog tied and limp. They made their way to the crew's quarters, Carey and White were waiting, crouched at the forward end of the space.

Unable to see the sleeping men's faces made it necessary to screen out any of her old crew. She and Carey came from opposite ends to peer at each man, they were all privateers. Blake had found two lengths of rope and between them they tied one end of each to the nettles of hammocks at the forward end of the quarters. Lots of loose turns around each hammock, then threading the rope through the nettles of the next in line, with turns around them, soon had six of the hammocks lightly trussed. Carey stood next to a hammock off to one side ready to cut the throat of the sleeper. Belle and Blake pulled hard on the rope's end, causing the loose turns to tighten, cocooning the men inside. Carey dealt with the one close to him, whilst the others systematically dealt with the rudely awakened crew before they could cut themselves free with the knives at their belt. Harrier's crew was not aboard, Carey and White slipped ashore to untie the vessel, taking a hold of the ropes to swing down into the water and scramble back aboard. Belle put some turns on the wheel to angle them away from the shore, then doused the stern lantern.

Blake bent a light line onto a stout towing cable, a pistol weighted the free end. The black sloop had stood off into the harbour until the lantern was doused, it's sails were quickly sheeted home and it fairly raced back towards them, making the same manoeuvre as before. Coming around in a large Larboard circle, Blake threw the pistol and line as they drew near. The line fell across the deck and was quickly brought to the bitts, looped tightly and drawn upon hard, until the heavy towing cable was brought aboard and secured. Again, the sloop lost a lot of speed as it turned into the wind but now her sails were braced around and slowly she started forward. The manilla towing cable floated between the two ships before it became waterlogged and began to sink below the surface. Harrier was motionless, the cable paid out, then the sloop's momentum made it rise, dripping from the water, until brought up taut. Water was wrung out as the cable strands tightened, Harrier had barely moved, then suddenly, she brought her head around to follow the black sloop. The privateer vessel slowed but as the sails filled, both ships glided out of the harbour. Belle's plan was set the Harrier's sails and beat to Westward, the most difficult direction in which to flee easily, thereby hoping to elude any pursuit. Keeping two miles offshore they followed the coast around a large headland, avoiding a few rocks to Starboard and wary of the breakers over the hidden reefs to Larboard. Sailing West Nor West, towering cliffs showed through the early light, giving way to a narrow inlet and beyond that a large island. That would screen them from the shore, with a large bay to Larboard to evade possible capture. Both ships anchored and the Harrier's crew congregated aboard her, Carey had managed to get the galley stove lit and hot food was eaten heartily.