Pirate's Boy Bitch
The year is 1874. My name is Pussy and I am a slave of the captain’s. My name was Patrick and my captor has given me a new name. My father’s merchant ship was captured, plundered and sunk by the pirate crew of the Black Orchid. I alone was saved, to be a mating partner of the notorious Captain Boothe Tarver. He is an escaped convict from the penal colony of Australia. He escaped to Barbados where he became leader of the Orchid after the previous captain was killed in combat and nobody else rose to the moment. After taking control of the situation, the men have shown him total respect and deference. He is a hulking brute of a black man, dark ebony skin stretched tight over enormous muscles that bulge everywhere. He towers over every other man I have ever seen and he is not a gentleman to be trifled with. He has his way, all the time. For me Captain Tarver has chosen the path of the courtesan. I am to be dressed at all times in the silks, satins and laces that he has picked out for me to wear. These are the finest, exotic feminine garments in the world, the remains of plunder from many of the Orchid’s past victims. I dress in the most beautiful gowns from the Quadroon Balls of New Orleans, wherein wealthy white men choose their mistresses from among the most striking foreign and mixed-race women the area has to offer. Captain Tarver’s favorite is a blue and lavender dress with white lace trim. He especially likes what I wear underneath the gown: a pearl-white corset with garters that hook to my sheer stockings. I always wear at least two-inch high heels, and I still have to lean up on my tiptoes to gather a kiss from my captain. After my daily hot bath, during which I shave every bit of hair from my body, only keeping my long red locks intact, I have makeup that I wear to make myself even prettier, I have some perfumes that I dab about my body to drive my stud lover wild with lust and of course I must keep myself clean and ready for my master’s fingers, tongue and cock, so I douche my “pussy” at least three times a day. I also have some special erotic oil that I use inside me that serves as a lubricant, masks unpleasant odors and also heats up my rectum with an aching burn, making me fanatical for cock. I as well must make certain my own penis is tied up and out of the way, as Captain Tarver doesn’t bother with it.
I travel everywhere with the Orchid, much as I have since my capture almost two months ago. The crew treats me like royalty, as Captain Tarver’s disposition is much more relaxed (I’m told) when he is able to unload his frustrations, if you get my meaning. Rosie (the resident queer; Tarver hasn’t slept with him/her in years) says they can always tell when the captain had a satisfying night of lovemaking, because he comes out in the morning and doesn’t say a word to anyone if things are running smoothly. Of course, Rosie also pointed out that it’s not a particularly large ship and often times my moans of ecstasy are heard as Tarver buries his manhood in me. The first time I heard this I blushed, but soon came to realize that there wasn’t anything to be done about it and Tarver certainly doesn’t seem to be self-conscious about his choice of bedmates.
This particular chapter in our story happened just a few nights ago. Tarver had been away on one of his lieutenant’s ships, the Sabre, for several days. They had run into trouble off the coast of Portugal, and spent their time running from and fighting with British interceptor ships. At one point the crew had to lay low in an island chain for over a day. After a week of this nonsense it doesn’t need to be guessed that when he finally made his way back to the Orchid, not much was on his mind besides me. I heard the shouts of the crewmen that he was back and knew I only had a few minutes before he would be inside me, making me tremble with desire. I quickly removed my gown so I was down to just my corset and stockings, douched myself and added a light squirt of pleasure oil, then went to stand near his bed to await his arrival. I did not wait long.
After boarding, he shouted a few quick orders to his 1st Mate, a huge African named Mubato. Then the door to his cabin opened and my lover was back. He saw me, framed against the windows of his cabin in the moonlight, with nothing on but my pretty lingerie and he growled, the guttural bay of a lust-ridden fiend. He was on me in two strides and grabbed me into his massive arms to roughly plant his mouth over mine, re-establishing his ownership, lest I forget my master. His tongue drilled into my mouth, to the back of my throat and I was suddenly overcome by his overpowering scent, the musky tang of perspiring man flesh. The aroma of his masculinity, awash in the smells of battle and blood and gunpowder and sweat weakened my knees and I collapsed into his embrace. He said not a word as his fingers found my pussy and pushed his probing digits inside me, even as we kissed and he picked me up effortlessly and threw me upon his sheets with authority. He was removing his shirt as I caught site of his throbbing erection and gasped; although I had had the captain inside me many times before, I never ceased to be amazed at the length and girth of his imposing cock, especially in light of how horny I was and how long it had been since our last time together. In seconds his clothes were removed and he was back on top of me, crushing me between his muscled physique and the mattress. His hands ran up and down my legs and I knew from his response that he found my choice of my silkiest silk stockings agreeable. I moaned into his mouth as he continued his oral assault. Ordinarily, Tarver enjoys eating my pussy for a while before he takes me, but I could tell that this time there would be little foreplay. His urgency was apparent as he hooked my knees up over his shoulders, exposing my hungry pussy to his touch. I saw him slather some sex grease on his member and then his cockhead was poking my silken furrow. With one mighty thrust he was in me to the hilt and I felt my insides frantically trying to adjust to the new occupant, the owner it knew so well, yet had forgotten in the waning nights. I put my hands on Tarver’s chiseled, tattooed chest and he settled into his fuck. I stared up at my lover as he closed his eyes, threw his head back and hammer-fucked me, desperate with need after days of absence. I wanted to watch this raging, black sex brute, but was soon overcome by the sensation of absolute pleasure and absolute submission I derived from our relationship. I started to cry out in short, high-pitched mewling, begging for my master to fuck me harder as I buried my finely manicured fingernails into the muscles of his back and wrapped my thighs around his hips, loving my complete feminization. Our hot, sticky coupling continued as Tarver drove me mad with wanton lust, kissing my neck, my chin and my cheeks, his big, rough hands alternating between cupping my round buttocks and running up and down my stocking-clad thighs and calves, all the while continuing his reckless, forceful attack into my tight boypussy. My own cock was pressed between our bodies, the friction igniting a building pressure in my young loins. It was impossible to ignore even with my prick tied with a silk ribbon; I was going to explode. I became acutely aware, suddenly, that my tiny nipples, having been somehow released from the confines of my corset, were rock hard as well, and were rubbing against Tarver’s hard muscle-bound chest every time he thrust into me. I felt myself being driven to the brink of sweet madness by the scent of my master, his black-man’s sweat dripping onto me, covering both of us in a sexy sheen, the musky aroma turning me on immensely.
The simultaneous arousal of all of my erogenous zones at once proved too much for my 16-year old body and I came hard. My cum splashed upon my tummy and splattered Tarver’s already sweat-soaked torso. I screamed out in rapture, digging my nails yet deeper into my man’s ruggedly muscled back. At the same time, my love chute clamped down on the captain’s powerful erection, trying to milk the seed from his balls. I felt Tarver’s hands slide from my buns and take tight grip on the sheets on either side of us. He was fighting against cumming quicker than he wanted, but soon he let loose with a loud, bellowing roar, like the victory howl of a ferocious warrior in combat. And we both felt proof of his victory as he slammed forward one last time, wiry pubes mashing into my unprotected cunt, and unleashed a driving surge of hot, sticky man sap, filling me completely with the gift of his breeding seed.
I was trembling, moaning quietly with passion as Tarver unhooked my legs from around his waist and slowly withdrew his length from my gaping hole. My stretched rectum was filled with his essence and as pulls out, more of his male fluid squelches out and is smeared all over my taut butt and thighs. We were both gasping for breath, the musky tang of sex hanging in the air as we unwind in the afterglow of our lovemaking. I’m spent, but I know it will only be a matter of minutes before the captain is ready for another go around. He finished far quicker than normal and our long separation will undoubtedly give his normally nearly limitless endurance an added boost. He pulled me in to spoon and I felt his limp manhood lying behind my rear, just inches from my now well-lubed love channel. He murmurs in my ear sweet nothings about missing me and how pretty I look. His hands are roving over me, laying claim to his property once again, touching me in places where only he has been. Again, his hands can’t stay away from my freshly shaven, hosiery encased legs. He mutters a few wicked words to me, about my stockings; I know he’s pleased. Behind me, I feel the beast stirring, coming back to arousal. I have but a few minutes before Tarver will be penetrating me again, but I’m so tired and I drift into a light doze.
I snapped awake to the feeling of Tarver tweaking my nipples; it’s intensely erotic and sends shivers up and down my spine. I can also feel, with no uncertainty, the captain’s once-again throbbing erection poking into my boy-pussy from behind. My own boner jumps up immediately; I love being taken in this position, because my captain can pull my pussy lips apart and really thrust in deep hitting all the spots that push me into orgasm. He does just that. As one hand pulls my buns open, the fingers on his other hand are busy pushing into me, delving into my makeshift womanhood. I shifted myself to push back on his hand, letting him know that I was very awake. I heard him chuckle in the darkness; he always loved the reaction he gets from me. He once told me that there was no greater pleasure in the world than taking a young lad who thinks he’s a ladies man and turning him into a cock-craving pussy-boy whore. This certainly described me. I had already had several of the girls (and a couple of the older ladies) in our family’s social circle by the time I was fifteen. I was young, virile and could have had any female I wanted. Only now, after my capture, I was playing the role of the female, lying next to her man, pleading softly to him for his hardness to be buried in her pussy again. I wanted this beautiful black man more than I had ever wanted anything before; I would do anything for him, anything to him. I wanted to be his lover, his slave, his concubine, his slut…his wife. I would marry him if he asked/forced me and I would bear his children if it were physically possible.
Now Tarver was back at full-mast, his proud, black stiffness positioned directly on my now mostly closed pink rosebud. It was uncanny how he could always seem to find the precise spot, even in the dark. I guess a couple decades of busting young boys’ cherries brings with it an innate sense of bearing, a map if you will, of the proper path to taking an inexperienced schoolboy and molding him to one’s lustful desires. I groaned lustfully as I felt the nudge of his cockhead on my beckoning cunt lips, the captain’s strong, calloused hands holding my buttocks open, allowing him unfettered access to my body’s most intimate region. With one of my hands gripping his wrist and the other grabbing the sweat-soaked sheets, Tarver thrust forward with a mighty push, his shaft sliding into my guts, deep, deeper than I could ever have imagined it was possible for someone to go and I let loose a scream. A scream that was equal parts pain, pleasure, and pure wanton hunger for my brawny lover to once again stake his claim to my body and my soul. I pushed back hard as Tarver pounded forward and I felt our bodies molding together in the scorching heat that radiated from us during our lovemaking. I felt his hands running up and down my garters and he would slide a finger inside the top of my stocking and feel my smooth, supple skin underneath. The captain’s fascination with me being feminized is so overwhelming as to be almost an obsession for him. He loves me clad in lingerie and it turns him into a raging sex brute when I model for him the expensive hosiery, garter belts, brasiers, corsets, gowns and panties his crew has plundered from captured vessels. But I love it as well, love becoming his Pussy and subjugating to his irresistible maleness and overt sexuality.
The heat between us becomes almost unbearable as we move our dance of intercourse into its next phase. Tarver was hammering into me so hard it’s all I could do to gasp out little mewls of pleasure, begging him to fuck me harder, faster, deeper. He complies and I feel him going even deeper, so much that I imagine this must be what it’s like to be pregnant, for his cock must be the size of a fetus, delving completely into the space where, if I were actually female, he would plant his seed in me, breeding me, turning me into a baby receptacle. How I wanted to be that for him at this moment, his sperm blasting into me, creating new life and me carrying his child (or children) and giving birth when the time was right. I heard Tarver grunting, growling as he approached orgasm. I was quite sure at this point, that if the crew didn’t already have a clue what was going on, now they would. Our screams and groans of ecstasy were echoing off the walls of the tiny cabin and carrying into the night air. The bed creaked under the stress of the intense pounding that it was receiving. I couldn’t stop begging for my man to fuck me more, to cum inside me. Soon he rolled over on me so my buns were sticking straight up in the air and he could get total leverage to power fuck me, to dominate his sissy boy. And dominate me he did. I looked around on either side of me, and could see nothing but sweat-covered, well- muscled ebony arms with hands gripping tightly the silk sheets beneath us; I prepared for my master’s fuck. He started with a slow, deep, sexy rhythm that graduated to a hard, fierce, shallow stabbing as he hit my pleasure nub multiple times and I shot my boy load below me, delirious with sexual bliss, a bliss that can only be known by those who have been fucked by a dominating black stud. My pussy muscles tightened around my lover’s tool, trying desperately to milk all of the cum from his balls. I was aching from the exertion of our coupling, the incredible stallion-like endurance that my captain showed, every time we made love. With one final plunge, my hard, black brute blasted another huge, creamy load deep inside me, a guttural roar escaping Tarver’s lungs as his orgasm hit hard. I let loose with a girlish scream feeling him first pump several shots into my boy womb and then feeling the scalding heat of yet more of his cum hitting my round, upturned buttocks as he pulled out of me completely, his glistening erection still spraying molten sperm.
Captain Tarver rolled over
beside me, our bodies exalting in the after effects of a mind-blowing
was trembling; visibly shaking from the intense physical and emotional
my man had drawn out of my young, inexperienced body. The exertion had
gotten to the normally tireless Tarver. He was breathing hard,
gasping to draw a breath as he collapsed next to me on the crumpled
which were now drenched with sweat and cum and the musky scent of sex.
reached out to cover my butt cheeks with his free hand and I felt a
gently poking in, swirling around in the remnants of his sticky man
slowly bubbled out of my wide-open quim. I was too tired to fight off
of his advances and thankfully for my abused pussy, even the mighty
could not muster enough virility to power his always hungry man shaft,
for a few hours. I fell into the deepest sleep I have ever known.
say, when the captain chooses to impregnate me with his seed now, we
remember our night of ultimate passion and craving, after having been
apart. And I keep dressing in the finest lingerie available, getting to
fun trying out all the new silks that come aboard every week. I have so
fun modeling a new corset with matching garters and stockings or
panties and sheer nightie, wondering which combination will please and
my lover the most. I am Pussy and I belong to Captain Tarver…
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sexual adventures of Captain Tarver?
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