PIRATE’S BOY BITCH: THE RETURN
BY D.O.
Patricia moaned erotically as “her” pussy was speared by the black
brute, Captain Tarver’s blood engorged cock. She was wearing a rose red
peignoir, sheer with a slit running from just above the buttocks all
the way to the bottom of it. The silk and lace negligee was now soaked
with sweat as Patrick, the teenage cabin boy, was penetrated by his
(her) master and transformed from lad to lass. When first brought
aboard the Black Orchid, he was forcibly feminized by the captain,
stripped of all remnants of maleness and bent to the sexual will of the
muscular Nubian pirate. Now however, months later, Patricia, or Kitten
as he had taken to calling her, was fully accepting of her role as
Tarver’s concubine, even reveling in it.
Presently she was pressed with her back against
Tarver’s chiseled chest as the brawny beast filled her bowels with his
impressive erection, her alabaster white pelt contrasting superbly with
her lover’s coal black skin. The length and girth of her master’s
manhood was almost too much to comprehend. Certainly it seemed
impossible that such proportions could be accommodated within the
tight, tiny confines of Patricia’s entrails. Yet here they were joined
together as closely and intimately as two people can be, Tarver’s bushy
pubic patch pressed into her smooth, supple buns; her yielding
intestines massaging and kneading the pirate’s thick black member. Her
petite girl clitty stood out from her body, fully aroused by the
submissive nature of her sensual impalement by this powerful, marauding
seafarer.
“Oooohhh, my Captain! Take me! I am yours always! I
want you inside me so badly.” Patricia cooed softly, seductively as her
insides adjusted to the sinful invasion by the pirate, accentuated by a
quick, hard thrust as he impaled his girl on his pole. He too felt the
passion rise in him as the boy-girl who warmed his bed took him into
her body. It was always a rush taking the feminized lad. He leaned in
and kissed her neck lightly, brushing away her lustrous red locks,
drinking in her womanly perfume. It was a sign from the buccaneer to
the girl that he was in the mood for a slower, more languid pace
tonight. Captain Tarver wanted to make sweet love to his girl, rather
than the abbreviated sessions they had shared of late. These last
couple weeks had been tearing the captain in multiple directions and as
a result he had rarely had time for anything more than a quick, vicious
fuck with his cabin lass, sex that often left both of them unfulfilled
and wanting more.
“Yes, Kitten, my beautiful. That’s it, sweetheart.
Just like that, take me into your pussy as your man, your lover. That’s
a good lass.” The captain grunted, whispering in the girl’s ear as his
black helmed warrior was pulled into the heated snugness of the
fem-lad’s anal embrace. He reveled in the soft pleading of her
welcoming nether lips as he easily took her from behind. He ran his
hands down the girl’s shaven legs, loving the feeling of fleshy
smoothness beneath the sweat-wetted lace. With his fingers he pushed
aside the bodice on her peignoir, and then tweaked her nipples into
swollen, aching pinpoints of pleasure, hardened nubs that dug sharply
into the skin of his palms. He was gently kissing the back of
Patricia’s neck, breathing in the heavenly, sensual fragrance.
With one arm under his Kitten’s head, he moved his other hand down from
her breasts to clasp her smaller hand in his own. He suddenly felt warm
stickiness on his bicep and realized she was crying. He immediately
slowed his entry into her thinking he had hurt her. She let him know at
once that was not the case.
“Please don’t stop, Captain! I…lo…I…love you! I need
you so much! I need you in me…” Tricia murmured out brokenly, wincing
from the pain of anal violation but simultaneously loving the dark,
erotic pleasure it brought to his/her young body. Patricia’s
previous loathing of the menacing, muscled brigand of the high seas had
gradually changed to total infatuation, as the pirate initiated him to
the myriad ways that dominant men had of taking young boys and molding
them into something they had never imagined they could be, a meek,
obedient pussy-boy. He recalled the countless nights he lay beneath his
ebony captain in utter ecstasy. His black prince. His Nubian idol.
“I know my sweet. I know you are mine. I’m almost
ready to breed you, Kitten. By no means fear, I’ll give you what
you desire most.” Tarver growled low, like a wolf on the prowl. He
allows himself a slight smirk as he feels her push her buttocks back
against him, allowing him complete access to that moist, inviting slit.
He takes what is offered, conceding to the exquisite sensation of the
boy’s compliant rectal muscles as they begin to slowly ripple all along
the entire length of his shaft. So begins their slow, relentless
pursuit of total fulfillment. Tarver questing to unleash his essence in
those clutching depths, his young Kitten meanwhile, aching for her own
release, a contraction so profound that none could know it, save those
former lads who have given themselves over completely to a black man.
Their sex on this eve continued on, a quiet
affair, full of passion and lust as of two people devoted to each
other. Her light moaning squeals interspersed between his deep
manly grunts as she succumbed to his raw sexuality. Intercourse between
them had steadily been moving away from the purely raw, almost
rape-like fucking that had emphasized their early days together into
genuine lovemaking, full of emotion and sentiment. Kitten feels
the captain shuddering against her arching back, her cunt closing tight
around the heat of her lover’s cock. The captain’s searing,
jabbing spear continued to pound into her, molding the insides of her
body to his throbbing erection while molding her soul to him with
passion and lust.
Tarver was beginning to lose control of his normally
robust stamina and virility, losing himself in the feeling of that
velvety rectal glove first gripping his shaft as he pulled out then
loosening around him as he thrust back in. The softness of the boy’s
quim was exquisite; hot, pliable and sensual. But he felt the need to
hold on just a bit longer. He wanted to prolong the point of orgasm for
both of them, so that when it hit, it would be a tidal wave of erotic
bliss washing over their sweat-soaked bodies.
The captain skillfully pulled all the way out of his
Kitten’s sopping boy-pussy and began to maneuver her over onto her
back. “Come now my love, roll over so we can make love as man and wife,
in the traditional manner….” He whispered this to her, trying to sound
as romantic as possible, not sure if he succeeded or not, but as she
turned to him his breath was taken away by the girl’s (boy’s) beauty.
He had to remind himself that Patricia was indeed a boy, or once had
been at least. But for a small, but still stiff erection, nothing was
left to suggest anything but an acquiescent female, lying with her
husband in sexual congress. The beautiful, feminine facial features,
the flowing, curly red tresses cascading down to her shoulders. The
white-as-ivory skin stretched over a slim, girlish figure. No traces of
body hair and just a light dusting of freckles in a few spots.
Patrick was crying, the tears welling up in his eyes
as he was overcome with love and emotion for this powerful, dominant
black man. It was a love he could scarcely have ever have anticipated
knowing; after all he was brought up in a household where men were men
and he understood the expectation from a young age to eventually wed
and carry on his family’s bloodline. Never could he, nor certainly
could his father, have foreseen being essentially kidnapped by the
strapping black thug and forced into a life of sexual servitude to
another male. His cheeks reddened as he thought of his dead father
looking down from heaven or wherever and seeing him on his back, with
his splayed legs wrapped tightly around this…man. His father would have
called the pirate a nigger, most likely. Barely fit to serve the whites
and yet here the bastard was, driving his thick, glistening, black cock
in and out of his son’s once-virgin now gaping, pink asshole while the
boy throatily shouted out his love for the captain and scraped his
fingernails up and down the muscular back and shoulders, urging his
stud on to stunning pinnacles of lovemaking and then shuddering in a
self-conscious climax as he felt Tarver’s loins tighten, then jettison
scalding blasts of wet hotness as he accepted the stallion’s seed into
his young, tender boy-womb. All of this happened while his son was
being utterly effeminate and was dressed in frilly, lacy, silky
stockings and garters negligees.
Tears spilled unheeded down his face, splashing his
cheeks as all his thoughts suddenly went to his father and what a
profound disappointment Patrick would surely be to him. He abruptly
felt nothing but loathing and revulsion and hatred toward himself for
allowing this whole scenario to play out. Instead of being a real man
and accepting death, when his father’s ship was taken captive, as the
rest of the crew did, he took up the captain’s offer to be a free
captive (whatever that was) onboard the Orchid. Anticipating
errands and mending clothes, in his naiveté, he had no idea what
the term “cabin boy” meant to brigands of the high seas. He found
out quickly as he was forced into women’s lacy unmentionables and made
to shave all his body hair. When it came time for his first anal
douching, in anticipation of his “wedding night” with Tarver, he was
beginning to realize just the sort of predicament he had gotten himself
into.
Patrick was unexpectedly pulled back to reality as
he realized Tarver had arranged them into missionary, and he felt his
master’s lips softy kissing away the salty tears from his face. His
self-loathing began to melt away as he felt the soft prodding of the
captain’s fingers inside him, preparing him for penetration again and
then his lover’s lips on his, plundering, breaching his meager
defenses. God how he loved the taste of Tarver’s mouth and tongue and
saliva and suddenly, they were one again. Tarver grunted loudly as he
pushed his erection back into the snug confines of Patrick’s abused
tushy-hole. The two lovers opened their eyes simultaneously and found
themselves staring into each other with a longing and a passion that
they had not known for some time. Their kiss ignited their senses even
more as their bodies seemed to meld into a single being, the torrid
heat radiating from them causing them to fuse to one another
erotically. Patrick thought, if his father didn’t like it he could go
to hell! He was going to enjoy being the sexual conquest of this
overwhelmingly masculine pirate. From that moment on, he surrendered to
his inner female.
Now Patrick was feeling more like Kitten again,
frisky, sexual, arching her back up into every thrust of her man, her
master, her…. husband. The captain smiled down at her as he had sensed
her previous withdrawal and now her newfound willingness. He redoubled
his efforts and soon she was moaning into his mouth as he crushed her
into the silken sheets and covered her lips with his own, thrusting his
tongue into her as roughly as he was driving his cock into her pussy.
All of a sudden he felt his young lass stiffen and from the wetness
covering both their chests, he knew she had cum hard, her little clit
spurting in a frenzied, sexual whirlwind. “Ooohhh, I love you soooo
much, my captain!” She cried softly and then looked at him with loving,
longing eyes. “My husband.”
As Patricia’s bowels convulsed swiftly around
Tarver’s throbbing member as he brought her to orgasm, he had about one
half second to realize he was going to shoot his load. And then it
happened; they moaned into each other’s mouths as they continued their
ardent kiss throughout the entirety of their mutual hedonistic rapture.
He looked into her eyes and whispered the words she had been waiting to
hear. “I…love you, Kitten. So much, I can’t lose you.” His tenderness
was almost unbelievable but she could see it in his eyes. “I need you,
more than I’ve ever needed anything.” He gasped out the final words as
the last of his sperm drained from his loins, into Patricia’s gripping
womb, his ragged breath in her ears.
They lay there, locked in each other’s arms, her legs wrapped around
his trim waist, her finely manicured nails digging into his muscled
shoulders, drawing a bit of blood. His husky hands were cupping her
round buttocks and she could feel his once turgid manhood beginning to
soften inside her. He began to tug himself out, but she motioned for
him to be still and he smiled and lay his head down upon her breast.
They fell asleep to sound of each other’s breathing, still locked
together as one in the wet, steamy afterglow of true lovemaking.
A message from the author: Welcome back friends. It’s been some time
since I first submitted Pirate’s Boy-Bitch to the Nifty archives. Going
on two years, in fact. In the interim, I have written and submitted
several other stories to Nifty and I have gotten great feedback on all
of them. However, there seemed to be a particular appreciation of the
tale of Captain Tarver and young Patrick among the archive readers. I
must say, I was almost overwhelmed by the sheer number of responses I
go to it, all of them 100% positive, with everyone asking, and
sometimes, begging for more. I hope this new romance will be enough to
tide you over; I do have more stories filed away, waiting to see the
light of day. The one thing I never envisioned when I set out to write
erotica was how much of it depends upon one’s mood, that is to say my
motivation to write on any given day; whether I had been properly
inspired to really sit down and write. I’m happy to say, it finally all
came together recently and this is the finished product. I really
wanted to elicit in the reader all the feelings and emotions that come
during lovemaking, be you gay, lesbian or even straight. Hopefully I
accomplished this and you were entertained as well. Again, I ask
for any and all feedback; I really do read it all!! Thanks so much for
reading and most of all enjoying my works. D.O.
celliophonic@yahoo.com