White Skies, Mocha Seas

Authors Note: While this story does have raceplay elements, it is not intended to demean or insult any ethnicity. It is simply for entertainment purposes. I encourage anyone reading to first review the story tags and read this warning in full before proceeding. This is a work of fiction and in no way glorifies or condones any past or present behavior. Inspired by a letter written by Columbus.

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My first officer marched her into my quarters. We had been at sea for a few days, and I was beginning to feel restless. We had purged a heathen settlement full of godless brown-skinned pagans and taken a few of the remaining survivors as slaves. One of which was their former queen. She marched in wearing iron chains around her ankles and wrists as she stared at the floor. My attention turned to my commandant.

"Leave us; I demand privacy for the next few hours." I ordered. My officer nodded and left her at my door before turning away and closing it behind him.

She looked almost completely devoid of hope at that moment. Her people were wiped from the face of the earth, her village torn to the ground, and now she stood in bondage before the man who took away her way of life. She didn't know a word of my language, and I sure as hell wasn't about to start learning hers.

She wore a few silk robes that did nothing to hide her curves. Her lack of clothing was likely due to the hot climate we found her in. She had large, ample breasts that were hardly obscured and a rear end so protruding that it was as if she was asking to be groped. Her body was unlike the wenches of my home land. The prideful and prudish who hid their bodies beneath layers of what they deemed to be high fashion. This woman, however, was to me the living embodiment of the raw sexuality a woman can possess. And I had her all to myself.

I stood forward, and she flinched and looked up back at me. It was now that I noticed her face still had some tribal heathen paint on it, albeit now unkempt and smudged. I moved around behind her, and I could feel her shudder as I got close enough to smell her. I lifted some of her hair with my hand and leaned in close, savoring my prize. It was here, however, that I learned she still had plenty of fight left in her.

I felt both her hands press up against my chest and shove me back a few steps. Her fingernails dug into my chest through my garments as she did, leaving deep red marks. With one fell swoop, I grabbed both her wrists with my large hand and held them down against her waist. With my other hand, I held her face tightly with my thumb and fingers, squeezing her cheeks together. This woman needed to be disciplined.

"Resist me again, and I will throw you to the sharks, you foul-skinned heathen." I spat out through clenched teeth. She looked back at me, her eyes full of a mix of fear and resistance. It was clear that, despite not knowing my language, she knew I wouldn't accept such unruly behavior. Nevertheless, she began to try and kick at me, despite the shackles around her ankles only allowing her to barely reach my shins.

It would be a waste to throw this woman away. Since I first laid eyes on her, my mind has been polluted with indecent thoughts. How my white hands would look contrasted with her dark skin. I wanted to hear her moan in her native tongue as I amused myself with her full-figured body.

I decided a correction was in order. I pushed her aside and picked up some rope I had spare in the corner of my quarters. I looped it through her wrist chains and over a horizontal support beam on the roof of the cabin. In doing so, I was able to hoist her into the air. She was now suspended about thirty centimeters off the ground, hanging helplessly. She tried to kick, of course, but in doing so, the chains around her wrists would only dig deeper into her flesh, causing severe discomfort. After some feeble resistance, her cries of protest became nothing more than meek cries of pain. Little did she know what was to come.

I opened my draw and pulled out my trusty whip. It was a tool I often used to control unruly crewmen and had found it to be an effective way to assert authority. I spun the woman around so her full rear end was facing me. I took a step back, inhaled, and let out a quick slash directly across her ass. She howled in pain as her whole body convulsed, as if trying to escape it. A long red mark was now imprinted on her right cheek. I proceeded to line up for the left. This time she was prepared and didn't howl as loud. But the pain was still unbearable to her.

The more she cried and screamed, the more I admired her plump rump. The way it jiggled and bounced with each whip. I decided it would be a waste to ruin, so I spun her around once more and let out some slashes on her chest. Again, she cried out and squirmed as the rough rope dug into her skin. Her chest was now a light red, and her face was tear-streaked.

Going any further may have led to permanent disfigurement, so I cut the rope that suspended her, and she fell to the floor with a sudden thud. She looked at me, breathing heavily and pleading with me in her disgusting native tongue. I was unsure of what she was saying, but I understood the underlying message. She wanted mercy. But I couldn't just stop now, as my cock was already straining to break out of my pants.

I got to my knees and shoved my fingers roughly down her throat. She coughed and choked, but did her best to hold her mouth open for me. In one hand, I still held the whip tightly, a reminder of what I would do to her if she dared to use those teeth on me. I dug my fingers deep into her mouth, causing her to gag. But she didn't dare to protest, knowing what I would do to her.

Hardly able to contain myself any longer, I pulled down my trousers and pulled my rigid cock out. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced my way into her throat. It took a few moments of her being forced to go limp and hold my shaft down her throat for her to adjust to my size. But once she had, she started to suck my shaft like she was starved for cock. I hardly had to even direct her. Her black tribal lipstick was smearing all the way down to the base of my cock. Her tears were washing away the streaks of warpaint on her cheeks as she served her captor. I may as well have been her new god.

I continued to face-fuck her, moving my hips back and forth, her dark hair bouncing with my motions. I could see her nose pressing into my pelvic bone each time my cock reached the back of her throat. I could feel my own orgasm approaching rapidly, so I held myself back. I didn't want to finish in her mouth; I wanted to seed this heathen's womb. I wanted to make her pregnant with my child as a reminder of how powerful my people are.

I pulled out, and she began gasping for air. Holding my dick, I began slapping her cheek with it. By this point, she had no resistance left and freely let me grind my dick up against her brown face.

With each passing second, I was closer and closer to unleashing my potent seed. But just before I came, I grabbed her hair and forcefully threw her onto the bed, causing her to fall on her back. Moving to her, I held her down by the throat as my other hand pulled away at the rags she used as clothing. With one firm pull, her fat breasts spilled out of her robe. They were larger than any breasts I had ever seen on a woman and were accompanied by two dark areolas. Unable to control myself, I leaned down and took one into my mouth, sucking hard and biting at it. The whore let out a high-pitched squeal, but it was unlike the other noises she had made so far. In this one, there was a hint of pleasure.

I let go of her throat and instead began pulling away at her undergarment. With a few quick pulls, this black temptress's body was on full display. I stopped sucking at her tit and stared in amazement. I had not seen a more arousing sight in all my life than that of this broken black heathen. She lay there on my bed, her breasts heaving up and down, her fat, dark nipples and areolas all red from my bites and kisses. Her lips, neck, and chest were streaked with blood from her wounds as she breathed heavily. Her dark body lay before me like an untouched dessert, just waiting for my taste.

I took her legs with both hands and lifted them apart, my cock guiding me like a lance as I probed her entrance. I moved my cock up to her labia and rubbed my head up and down against her clit. She shuddered as her pleasure grew. She began to make a series of strange noises, noises that sounded like her native tongue. Despite the cries she had made before, she was becoming drenched in her own juices. I leaned forward and finally pushed my way inside her, her tight pussy wrapping tightly around my dick like a wet glove. I let go of her legs and instead grabbed her neck. I squeezed her throat tightly and pushed her down into the bed as I fucked her.

What I didn't expect was for her legs to lock around my waist as she moaned like a common whore. This black heathen wanted me to seed her. As if on queue, I could feel the pressure in my loins, ready to burst forth. I dug my fingers down into her neck as I let out one final thrust. With a loud grunt, I let loose everything I had stored up. My orgasm refused to cease as I shot load after load into her black womb. I could feel her convulse under me, climaxing in utter defeat as her new captor inseminated her.

I pulled out and collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily. The heathen had her arms and legs wrapped around me, holding me close. For a moment, we just stayed like that, both of us savoring this unusually tender moment.