The Pirate, Mistress

Ciara offers out her panties. Fresh off her butt. This time, there's a few second's hesitation among the ladies, and several glances exchanged as they silently argue over which of them will get the panties. It ends with the other two glaring firmly at Carole. Carole accepts that the vote is now two-to-one. As in two for Carole, and Carole voting for anyone but Carole. She comes forward quickly, almost snatching the panties off Ciara's hands by a tiny pinch of the waistband. Then, as she returns to the audience, she casually flicks the panties at Ashley, the one who has been making the pile. The panties ruffle in the air and fall against Ashley, making her scramble to catch them. She casts the evilest glare at the smirking Carole. Isn't revenge so satisfying?

Now, with her pubes on full display and prohibited from covering them, Ciara gets to take the jewelry off. One piece at a time, and offering each to me, and then to her crew. None of it is really expensive. I'd bet the polished steel watch is the most expensive, at it could be bought at Wal-Mart for about $50. Just enough that it looks good and not cheap or fake, but that's all. Then again, most women I know have a nice, but modest, one they wear for work.

It leaves Ciara her stockings and shoes. The shoes have to come off first, and they're allowed to. She couldn't get the stockings off with them on.

"Captain, this bimbo is now completely naked for you, Captain," Ciara announces in a rather muted voice. She stands, facing me and thus her audience, with her hands at the small of her back. And she holds her head up as I insist she does. She has her feet only about two inches apart. It's enough for balance, enough to show the mound of her pussy.

The ladies look a little less at ease now. I can't blame them. Their captain, the woman they trust with their lives, is now standing humiliated and naked, shamelessly humbling herself before a woman half her age. And clearly accepting it.

"This bimbo looks to be a sneaky little skank," I announce in my teasingly sweet voice. "I'd better check to make sure it's not hiding a hacksaw or something!" I add with a little giggle in my voice. I hold my hand out towards Sophie. "gloves, slave, lest I foul my hands with this bimbo's filth."

Sophie very quickly pulls out a pair of my pastel green latex gloves. It's as if she expected me to order them next. I'm sure she did. She knows me too well by now. She hurries to pull the gloves onto my hands, snapping them loudly even though Ciara is watching.

I start at the very top of Ciara's head by running my fingers through the soft locks of her hair, letting its tresses flow between my fingers as the tips of my fingers stroke over her scalp. I run a finger down behind her ears, softly tracing a line there. I glance, just barely, into her ears.

Now I order Ciara to open her mouth. Before I ask for it, Sophie has a penlight in her hand ready for me. I shine it into Ciara's mouth. Then I use a finger to push her cheeks away from her gums, peeking in the newly opened gap. I lift her tongue to see under that as well. I even go so far as to pull her lips away from her teeth and look there.

I move down to Ciara's arms. Those are slender and lean. As I lift her left arm I can feel the tone of the muscles underneath. Those are firm and hard. Her skin might have lost some of its elasticity, giving it a slightly loose feel despite its appearance of having most of its tautness, but her muscles are still youthful. I run a finger along her underarm, feeling that it's smoothly shaven. Then I spread her fingers out and check the spaces between them. I give the other arm the same treatment. As soon as I release each arm, Ciara obediently has it back behind her.

I work down Ciara's body, coming to her breasts next. I simply use my fingers to gently, but firmly, pinch one of her long nipples. Holding onto it, I use the nipple to lift her soft mound up and pull the crease underneath out. That way I can see every bit of its underside, too. I check both breasts the same way.

I come to the small, deep funnel of her navel next. I just quickly shine the light in there and check that she's not hiding anything, like a navel piercing. When I say naked, I mean for my subs to get naked. As in as naked as the day before they were born.

Now I get to Ciara's pubes. She might have a very small bush, one that will be gone soon since it's not up to my standards, but I am not going to skip it. I run my fingers through er dense, curly hairs, the tips of my fingers stroking her pubes.

I move behind Ciara. Her hair isn't long enough to be covering any of her back. If it was, I'd move it, but it's not. It barely brushes atop her bare shoulders. I just glance at her flat back. And that brings me down to her bottom. It's a well rounded and full bottom, but one that's not overly pronounced. Not a "bubble butt." Her cheeks look slightly soft, but I can tell the muscles underneath are firm and toned. Her cheeks hold their rounded shape too well. And they're equally well rounded in both directions. They even have a defined round arc at the bottoms of them, as they swell out, defining the line between bottom and thigh. Her cheeks fully meet, forming a deep crack between them where the flesh lightly lies against the opposite globe. It's a fairly long crack, more owing to the rounding curve of her globes. And at the top, with her standing, there's the tiniest of dimples.

I put my hands to her naked cheeks. It lets me feel the thin layer of spongy softness covering the toned muscle. I give those globes a gentle squish with my fingers, getting a good feel of them, and then quickly push her cheeks apart. I push them wide, fully stretching her crack to its full openness, and that fully displays the ring of her asshole.

I move down, having Ciara lift one foot up behind her by bending her knee fully. I glance at the bottom of her foot, then I spread her toes and check between them. I trade her feet, leaving her one to stand on. When I release the second foot, I tell Ciara to stand with her feet apart now. She does. And I'm sure she's dreading what she knows I'm going to do to her next.

But my audience is less sure. I can see the uneasy, questioning look on their faces as if they're guessing and wondering if I'd really put Ciara through that. Especially publicly.

I tell Ciara to bend over and rest her hands on her knees. Her crew looks a bit uneasier. I watch as the puffy mound of Ciara's pussy pokes out at me, now shamelessly displayed for my eyes. Now I can see that her mound is so puffy and plush that it swells and stands out beyond the backs of her thighs. Her lips are perfectly smooth, without even a hint of stubble to be found. But their skin is covered with the slightest of wrinkles. It's as if they've shriveled up in response to coldness. Just a faint looseness that leaves the finest wrinkling to them. And I can see her slit. At the top, the part that's visible from the front, it's just a fine pink line. But as her slit flows down her mound, it opens a bit wider. Just enough to allow a thin ridgeline of the edge of a pink inner fold to peek up into space. It rises just a hair above the edges of her soft lips. Then, towards the back of her slit, the ridge vanishes back into her mound and her lips again meet into a fine pink slit. But the sweetest thing is the way her lips look almost curved from their plumpness. Long lips. Wide lips. And lips that are so soft.

I use my fingers to pull those lips fully apart, stretching them wide open to bare every bit of her inner pinkness. Her lips are full and big. But her inner folds are just the opposite. They're fairly short and barely rise off her pinkness. They're thin as well. But they do stand up almost straight, despite their looseness. Those folds seem to suddenly rise from the pinkness at the sides of her pussy, about halfway up the height of her tunnel. At first, they give her pussy a wide berth, but almost immediately begin flowing towards each other. As soft and loose as they are, they bump against each other about halfway between her pussy and the point where they meld together into a single ridge. It's a short ridge, neither running far nor rising high, but it's also a fairly firm knot as they join. A second loose fold rises atop the knot, flowing down for a short bit, before parting as it quickly fades into her pinkness. From the nest of folds, I can see Ciara's rock-hard clit pushing the top fold back as it pokes its pea-sized head up above its nest and the knot.

And now I can see the entrance of her tunnel. Ciara has a fairly narrow pussy that I'm sure would be tight for a man. I use the tips of my fingers to spread her inner folds wide. They stretch easily. And now those loose inner folds pull taut, forming a pink funnel towards her pussy. At the base of that funnel, I can see the very plush and plump walls of her pussy lying gently against each other. And I can see a thick coat of oily honey, with a faint white tinge and slightly sweet light muskiness, that coats everything.

The ladies are watching closely now, as enthralled as they are repulsed by the immodest display. I grin. Then I casually press a finger straight into Ciara's pussy. I don't try to make it rough for her, but I'm not trying to be easy either. It's more all-business, as if I don't care, one way or the other, how it feels for Ciara.

Ciara can't stop herself from purring a soft, and needy, "MM!" as my gloved finger slides into her pussy.

I never suspected Ciara would be hiding anything inside her pussy. It's not the time of the month for her to have a tampon in here, and that would be the only thing. Unless I'd put something in here, that is. But I know submitting to a public cavity search is nicely humiliating for her. Besides, it gives me a chance to feel the walls of her pussy. Those are spongy and soft, but with some firmness to them. They're fiery hot now, too. And they twitch slightly as my finger strokes along them. I slip my finger back out and release the lips of her pussy.

I hear one of the audience gasp out, mostly in surprise, but also in horror, as I use one hand to push Ciara's cheeks apart again. Fully apart, displaying every bit of the valley of her crack to my eyes. It looks almost as if her slit runs all the way up to her asshole. It doesn't, but the ends of her lips flow together, and, at the same point, a noticeable ridgeline of a wrinkle forms. It's by far the most prominent of the countless lines of wrinkles that all flow towards the ring of her asshole. This one is more of a ridgeline that a gentle fold, which the rest of them are. Her asshole is moderately funnel-shaped, curving to flow inward at the center of a swath of flesh that begins as a light pink and grows deeper, taking on a slight purple-brownness as it reaches her ring. The ring where all of those wrinkle lines flow in, turning with increasing sharpness, into a deep, dark, little point, like the point of a pencil.

I don't bother with any lubricant. My finger picked up a heavy layer of honey from her pussy, and Ciara's honey is as slick as any oil. I just put the tip of my finger to the opening of that shallow funnel, feeling the single line of that prominent wrinkle against the pad of my finger. I can feel the hardness of her tensed muscle, too.

I do this the same way. Neither caring if it's gentle or rough for Ciara, simply pushing my finger efficiently into her unwelcomingly tight asshole. As I press, I feel the flesh of that funnel surround my finger and the firmness of her muscle at the center of the funnel blocking my way. But it only takes a fraction of a second for my finger to overpower her muscle. Then I feel it soften slightly and begin stretching around my finger as my fingertip slips into the tightness. Her asshole squeezes snugly against my finger as my finger slides further into her depths.

Ciara feels it. She grunts a deep, and tense, "UGH!" and scrunches her face up slightly as my finger first stretches her resisting muscle. Then, as I'm slipping deeper, it's more of a purred, "UM!"

The audience, especially Ashley, looks absolutely horrified. There's no mistaking what Ciara is standing there demurely for. The looks on their faces tell me none of them can believe their eyes.

I slip every bit of my small and slender finger into Ciara's bottom, stopping only when the web of my finger is flush against the outside of her still-tensed ring. I give the tip of my finger a little wiggle deep inside her bottom. That gets another light, tensed, grunt from Ciara.

I use the pad of my finger to feel around everywhere that I can reach. I even curl my finger up inside her so that I can feel the inside of the thick ring of her asshole. Then I quickly pull my finger out, getting another grunt from Ciara.

As my finger slips from Ciara's bottom, Ciara breathes out a deep sigh of relief. I hold my hands out and allow Sophie the honor of taking the dirty gloves off my hands. She just idly tosses them over her shoulder, leaving them to land on the floor. I suspect the ladies will leave those for Ciara to pick up.

I have Ciara stand up. She quickly has her hands behind her back again. I delay for several seconds, seeing Ciara getting tenser as she stands nude, doing nothing but displaying her body to her crew. I stand at Ciara's side, facing the audience.

"I suppose you all, being sailors, knows what happens to bimbos who are captured by pirates. Locked up, chained, held prisoner in tiny cages. Mistreated. Whored out. Sold off as slaves." I freeze mid-sentence. "That's what I've forgotten, slave!" I add excitedly, "I need the irons for my prisoner!"

I turn back to Ciara. Already Sophie is pulling the heavy irons out of the bag. And I've brought my old-fashioned irons for her. The ones that look like they're from the middle ages. I just watch as Sophie chains up the prisoner.

Sophie kneels beside Ciara. She starts with the leg irons. These are two inches wide, made of a dark steel. Not mere cuffs, like handcuffs, would be, but honest shackles. Sophie fastens one cuff around Ciara's leg, just above the bone of her ankle, slipping the shackle of a padlock through the eyelet to hold it in place. Then she puts the matching cuff on Ciara's other leg and locks it as well. It leaves the padlocks dangling down over the bones of her ankles at the outsides. There are eighteen inches of a heavy log chain joining the two cuffs together. A chain with links that are at least ¼" thick. Chains that have the end of the final links welded to each cuff.

The handcuffs are matching. They're just as wide and thick, only close a little more around her narrower arms. But they don't have a chain connecting them together. Sophie fastens one cuff around each of Ciara's arms, securing the cuffs with padlocks. Then she brings Ciara's arms around to her front and locks the cuffs together with a third padlock.

And there's a matching collar. It too is made of heavy iron. But it's only about an inch high. Sophie closes it around Ciara's slender neck, securing it with a single, heavy padlock that hangs down at the front of her chest.

And then Sophie takes a heavy log chain, matching and just as stout as the one on the leg irons, and hooks that to the lock on Ciara's collar. Sophie leaves the chain hanging down, dangling between Ciara's soft breasts and along her pussy pubes, all the way to the floor. Sophie lifts Ciara's hands to the level of her navel and then locks them to the chain. It will hold Ciara's hands up, keeping her pussy just beyond her reach. And making her hands virtually useless. Sophie winds a single loop of the heavy chain around Ciara's waist, just above her hips, pulling the loop snug around Ciara and using a lock to secure it. Then she kneels down again and uses another lock to connect the free end of the chain to the center of the chain of those leg irons. Not only will it severely limit Ciara's movement, but it also looks it. She looks like she's chained up as a pirate would have bound Her prisoner 500 years ago. And I know Ciara has got to be feeling the weight of those heavy irons. They've got to weigh at least 20 pounds.

"Oh, that's so much better!" I giggle.

I turn back to my audience. "I suggest you ladies find another boat and captain. Now that I've captured this bimbo, I'm going to sell my prisoner off. Since there's no gold aboard, I might as well salvage what I can from my prize!"

"slave, find me some rags or something for the prisoner to wear as I march her off to my dungeon to await the sale," I say to Sophie.

Sophie reaches into the bag and pulls out the dress I brought for Ciara. It's made from a burlap sack with a hole cut in it for her head. The sack itself is stained and looks filthy. It even has a few rips and tears in it. A few of which come close to showing some boob, but don't quite do it. It's not very long either, covering her bottom but only about an inch more. It leaves almost all of her legs exposed. And it leaves her feet bare. I even put a few drops of doe scent on it to give it a reeking aroma just for the added realism. Ciara's wrinkling nose tells me how much she appreciates it.

Sophie hands me the last thing in the bag. A length of rough hemp rope that's about an inch thick. It has a noose tied in one end and about four feet of rope beyond the noose. I open the noose and drop it over Ciara's head. Then I tighten it down around her neck, leaving it slightly loose. I hang onto the free end.

"Ladies, would you care for a picture to remember your former captain by?" I offer the audience.

It's an offer the mischievous Ashley can't resist. She takes her phone out and aims the camera at Ciara. Ciara tries to hang her head and I quickly snap for her to pick her head up. I remind her that as a captured sailor she's now my property, and I wish to display her. She lifts her head and Ashley snaps the picture. The others don't, but I'm confident that Ashley's picture will be on their phones in two minutes. Just as I'm sure that Ciara will be seeing it, likely in some teasing way.

I use the rope as a leash and start walking Ciara off the boat. Just like she is, wearing nothing but a filthy, torn, and reeking burlap sack. At first, no one notices. But no sooner are we off the gangway and onto the dock than a couple of fishermen notice. Their taunting catcalls announce the show to everyone. By the time I get Ciara down the dock and to my car, there are about eight guys gawking at her. And applauding between demeaning, suggestive catcalls. Sailors! They're worse than men!

Part II: Serving Wench Or Whore?

Ciara gets her next surprise the second the door of my apartment opens. A loud cheer of "ARR!" rings out. Inside my apartment, there's a small party underway. "Did ye pirate Captain Rodgers capture anything valuable?" My BFF #1, Izzy, loudly asks me.

The party consists of Izzy and her getting-kind-of-serious boyfriend, Adam. My BFF#3, Ellie, is here as well, and she's brought a slightly scruffy-looking guy that I don't know. Then there's Emma, a girl I know from my nursing classes at USA, who brought a guy I don't know, but him I've seen around campus. I think he's studying to be some kind of therapist or something. Whatever it is, it has him taking classes in the health sciences building. He's not quite my type, so... And there's a girl named Summer that I know from campus as well, and the guy she's brought. I don't know him well, but I've talked to him a few times. They're both in a chemistry class I'm taking. I didn't think they were seeing each other, and judging by their body language now, I still don't think they're together. She's the type who would be hanging all over him if they were.

Plus there's Paige, my 19-year-old "kennel-in" house-slave and whore. I never allow Paige to wear any clothes inside the apartment. Never, ever. Today isn't any different. She's wearing nothing but a pink leather collar locked around her neck and a set of leg irons. She always wears the irons, just to remind her of her place in this world. But hers are standard police-grade legs irons, with ankle cuffs that are just like handcuffs, only slightly larger.