Date: Fri, 31 Jan 2003 10:44:21 -0800 (PST) From: Glinda Goodwitch Subject: Desires of Rebecca Ch 6 Transcribed by Glinda Goodwitch gaspar50@yahoo.com The Desires of Rebecca by Olivia Ravensworth Chapter Six "Ship out with me, Rebecca," said the Captain evenly as we dressed. "I've a good ship and a loyal crew--capable wenches of similar disposition." Her green eyes, cool and purposely distant, almost smiled at me from under her elegantly arched, smoky red brows. Yet despite the lightness of her tone, I fancied I sensed an unacknowledged earnestness beneath. "I'm bored with Africa," she continued airily, "but the Spaniards-the greedy male foolsare filthy with booty from the New World. Let us cross the Atlantic. We can raid the Spanish Main, Rebecca, take gold, silver, all manner of treasure. There we can live like queens...." I bit my lip, not sure of what to say. The realization that she still wanted me made me feel ... warm inside. Though her lovemaking had been so wondrous, in the pensive moments following it I had assumed, despairing, that such a worldly woman would not bother with keeping just one lover. I had thought that she would return me to the faithless Mother Curry. Yet now I began to understand that to the Captain I was not merely some plaything to use and then to discard when the price was right. My nipples were uncomfortably stiff beneath the fabric of my dress. Confusedly I began lacing up my shoes and, vaguely excited, I wondered what she had meant by "wenches of similar disposition," "Think of it," said the Captain. Slowly her cruel fingers buttoned up her dark blouse, and as I watched in longing silence, the pale glories of her high, swelling bosom were clothed once again, hidden from mine eyes, and from my fingers, from my ravenous mouth... "Be my pet, Rebecca. I can cover thee with Orient pearls, sparkling gems-and I can uncover thee..." Her green eyes gleamed liquid and drowsy behind dense, half-lowered lashes. "Be my pet," she repeated softly. "Help me while away the long, empty hours...." My mind whirled. Suddenly I knew that I owed nothing to Mother Curry-not love, not affection, not even friendship. Though the old woman had befriended me once ...I saw now that her love was hollow. Oh, she had dallied with me easily enough, enticed me to satisfy her great appetites, had even pleasured me in return. But in the end, as one of Mother Curry's girls had prophesied so confidently, she had abandoned me. That terrible woman had lent out my tender young body like some soiled mattress, had given my maidenhead to what she thought was merely some besotted man. For that there could be no excuse. Yet the Captain... This magnetic woman thrilled me. Impetuous and lusty and strong, she had put me in her thrall at the first kiss of her sensuous lips. Though I had known her but minutes, already it seemed a lifetime. How I longed to be this commanding woman's slave, to favor her night and day-and to make my statuesque redheaded mistress desire me in return. Blushing, I found my voice. "I am yours, Captain," I whispered huskily. "Good," she said softly through those beautiful red lips. She tried to say it matter-of-factly, but I seemed to sense the satisfaction-the relief at my answer-which she was loath to reveal I smiled inwardly as she donned her hat and her weighty disguise of mustache and beard. "Then let us go." Yet, mindlessly, I was afraid of having to see Mother Curry again. It was one thing to curse her silently, to flee her betraying wickedness. But to walk out right past that woman, beneath her gaze and within reach of her great meaty hands-I thought of those awful drunken lechers in the tavern below, and their whispers and their leers, and how they would stare at me even more, laughing in smug male derision, as the old woman's voice rose shrilly.... I shuddered convulsively. "But what if Mother Curry tries to cause trouble?" I wondered aloud. The Captain smiled beneath her flaming red mustachios as she buckled on her sword. "The old hag isn't that stupid," she snorted. "Unfortunately." She threw her arm possessively about my waist and pulled me to her side. Her hand was familiar on my hip, and I shivered at the touch. "But fortunately for her, I don't really feel like discussing the matter tonight" She winked at me over the brutish beard. "We'll just nip out the back way. The others will know to meet us back at the ship." Beaming gratefully, I settled myself into the Captain's strong embrace. "I thank thee." So leave out the back way we did. Out the door, through the hallway, and down the steep, narrow stairs we went I let the willful Captain lead me through back alleys beneath a darkening evening sky. "First," murmured the Captain at length from behind her great bristling beard, `eve must stop at a seamstress. Thou'lt need more than one dress to go to sea" "Can we find one at this hour?" I asked, puzzled. "Oh, I dare say I can find an able wench," she replied enigmatically. Her voice held a strange, almost mischievous quality, and I could not fathom her meaning. Her hand caressed my haunch through the faintly moist fabric of my skirts, making me feel moister still deep inside. In a moment, my commanding Captain pushed her hand around farther, across the bare belly beneath my clothing, and reached her nimble fingertip into the very top of my watering cunt. I shivered against her as she hooked her finger comfortably there beneath my suddenly erect clitty and drew me along. Eyelids heavy, I ground my pubis against her loving digit. Through mazy paths we went thus, stepping about fly-haunted piles of offal, reeking wet puddles of night soil, and the occasional sleeping drunkard stripped of his purse. As night drew closer, the grim world of London's back streets grew slowly darker and more sinister. The air was cool and lonely upon my flushed cheeks, and goose pimples stood up all over my flesh. I was reminded most unpleasantly of my first night in the city ... but the finger in my sodden hole was comforting. I reminded myself that the Captain was rescuing me from this wicked town, taking me safely across the seas. The Captain's sword swung heavily at her shapely hip as the flesh rolled rounded and smooth beneath her rough masculine clothing. I knew, joyous, that she would protect me. We would live like queens, she had said-and I doubted not that it would be so. Her ship would be a palace, the wild Caribbean a kingdom. And the Spaniards -those swaggering conquistadores, those hairy male plunderers-would, unwillingly and unknowingly, be the Captain's vassals. I thrilled too the thought of her triumphs -and my glorious submission. How I might worship in the musky garden between her ivory thighs! My eager juices ran smelly and wet down my lover's wrist. Eventually the Captain found a stout wooden door in the back of a decrepit little building, and we stopped. Absently she brought me off then, smiling faintly at my helpless rapture. To her it was but another little twitch of the hand, but to my mind it sealed our souls together still further, and I clung to her, panting. With her other hand she knocked in a peculiar pattern, then paused and knocked again. Who could we be visiting at this hour? I wondered blankly. A cool wind played about my tired body, lonely on cheeks flushed from the strenuous walk ... and other exertions. I huddled closer against the Captain, gasping as she pulled her fingers stickily from my pulsing quim and brought the wondrously fragrant digits up before my face. We waited there in the chill dark for what seemed like quite a while, though probably it was but a few moments. At my Captain's subtle urging I opened my lips and obediently licked the savory traces of my wanton lubrication from her smooth fingers. I could not help notice that she watched me in smiling satisfaction. At last the door opened a crack-and I hastily pulled back my shining lips and wiped my mouth. A woman peeped cautiously out, but when she saw the Captain, she flung the door wide with a laugh. "Come in, come in!" she chuckled merrily, giving the Captain's imposing beard a familiar whack with the back of her long bony fingers as if she knew precisely what lay beneath. The woman was old and bent, sixty years at least, I guessed. Her face was thin and deeply lined, with surprising bright blue eyes peering out from beneath scraggly brows. Straight silver hair hung down her gaunt neck and narrow back. The old woman looked me over slowly, almost longingly ... and glanced at the Captain, her azure eyes twinkling. "Thou've captured quite a little treasure, eh?" Blood burned in the Captain's cheeks, and as the muscles of her arm stiffened about me, I sensed her temper flare. Did she think she was being mocked? Or, I wondered in sudden pride, could it be that she was jealous of that old crone's obvious interest in me? But her anger subsided just as quickly, and she forced a hearty chuckle. "Aye, Beryl," replied the Captain, "that I have, that I have." She led me into the room, her hand possessive and firm upon my haunch. She threw her hat familiarly onto a chair, and her glorious red hair bounced free about her shoulders. Unhurriedly she began pulling off her disguise. "The reason I come so late is that I'm shipping out in the morn, and I'll be wanting my Rebecca to have ... the proper attire." She looked at the older woman almost challengingly, but the other did not so much as smile. "Of course," the woman called Beryl assured the Captain blandly. "Thou may get many things back at the ship ... yet for special items 'tis wise to consult a real seamstress." "Aye," murmured the Captain, pursing her lips and giving me a judicious glance. "Aye." "Of course, Captain," continued Beryl tonelessly, "first we must measure the lass,..." In an amiable and purposely dithering manner she began searching her deep apron pockets for a measuring tape. "Mmm." The Captain nodded, almost reluctantly, it seemed. I could not quite fathom her attitude-though she herself had brought me to this old woman, now it was as if she were loath to let me linger. "Your cloak, Rebecca," she said at last. "Yes, Captain," I replied quietly. Obediently I worked at the big buttons, not daring even to ask for what kind of garments I was to be fitted. I only knew that if my Captain wished it, I could do naught but her bidding-such was my loyalty to that imperious goddess already. I hung my heavy cloak on a rusty hook, but as the woman Beryl found her tape and looked back up, her eyebrows climbed in faint surprise. "Why, Captain," she observed mildly, `we'll be needing to measure a wee bit more closely than that..." Her bony fingers plucked absently at the ragged edge of the worn measuring tape. "The night is chill, but the fire's plenty warm enough. Surely another layer removed won't harm the girl." The Captain took a slow breath and fixed her cool green eyes upon Beryl for a moment, but the older woman busied herself throwing some more scraps of wood upon the fire. The crackle of the hearth sounded loud in the silence. "Very well," said the Captain without looking at me. She stared abstractedly into the bright warmth of the fire. "You may disrobe, Rebecca." "Yes, Captain," I murmured. Biting my lip, I began loosing the buttons at my throat. Beryl had turned around again, and her eyes rested casually upon me as I silently bared my pale neck and shoulders. Soon I stopped, embarrassed, but the Captain-still not turning to look at me yet sensing my hesitation-merely nodded for me to continue. Shivering, I let the arms of my dress slide down my elbows and off my wrists, then gravely stepped out of my skirts. Despite the fire, my undergarments retained little heat, and my flesh felt cool and goose pimpled The Captain turned around to regard me, and then said with a sigh, "I imagine Beryl will need thy shoes and stockings removed, Rebecca." "To get thy correct height, dearie, and the accurate measure of thy limbs," admitted Beryl. Her voice was apologetic, yet I noticed she never blinked as I toed off my shoes and slowly rolled the stockings down my trembling calves. "Aye, dearie," she smiled when I was done. "Tis much better. Now just stand thou still whilst I get these figures." She spared the Captain a quick glance, then dug a pencil and a scrap of paper from her pockets. She stepped forward, very close to me, and bustled quietly about She measured me from the floor to the top of my head, her lined old palms running casually across my body. Humming very faintly, she wrote down the figure. "Now raise thy arms," she murmured, and as I did she ran the tape from my shoulders to my hands, first left, then right. Carefully she wrapped the tape about each of my wrists, my forearms. Her hands were warm on my bare skin. I had been fitted for dresses many times, of course-suddenly that lost life in Devon seemed so very long ago-yet never with such thoroughness. Rather than avoiding my flesh politely, her hands touched me whenever they could. I quivered faintly, uncomfortably aware that my modesty was protected by just one thin garment. Beryl measured my neck with care. Nodding, the woman made more notes. Stooping, Beryl pulled the frayed old measuring tape about my waist ... then frowned slightly. She drew the tape about my hips, the backs of her hands brushing the thin cotton against my fluttering belly, yet as she studied the faded numbers she seemed vaguely dissatisfied. Then she stood and made as if to measure my bust ... but all too soon she just shook her head sadly. "Captain...?" she said quietly. "Yes...?" The Captain's soft voice was studiedly neutral. "I'm just afraid 'twill not do," the old woman clucked. "Thou'll want a good fit, now, I imagine...." She paused, but the Captain said nothing. "Well, if so," pursued Beryl, "we'll be needing to remove those silly underclothes." The Captain merely pursed her fine red lips, but Beryl wheedled softly, "Thou'll want thy little pet looking her best, Captain. The seas can be bleak and lonely, so I'm told...." The Captain stood motionless, then slowly she let out her breath. She almost smiled. She angled her cool green eyes at me and cocked a smoky eyebrow. "Do as she says, Rebecca." "Yes, Captain," I whispered, biting my lip. Confused, l began quietly to do my mistress's bidding. My fingers trembled on the little buttons of my under blouse-and I saw that Beryl's bright gaze never left me. I took a deep breath and disrobed before this stranger. Slowly, with reluctance, I worked the pearly buttons out of their tight cotton eyes, shivering delicately as the garment's own weight gently pulled apart the front opening, baring my pale throat, my collarbone, and more and more of the high slopes of my young bosom. Those full creamy mounds wobbled as I worked, and though, blushing, I tried to maneuver my shoulders somehow to keep my nipples from slipping out, now and then the tight little rosebuds flipped impudently into view before swaying back into the garment. I pulled my embarrassed gaze from the floor ... and saw the pale blue eyes of the ancient seamstress bright upon me. She stared fixedly, unashamedly, into the opening of the under blouse. How like a window to the soul were her gleaming eyes, and how clear was her longing to reach right into my clothing, grasping for my maidenly nakedness! Was this, I wondered suddenly, how I had looked when watching the Captain undress back in that little room above the tavern? Clearly, I realized all at once, this Beryl was no common creature but, like the Captain and myself, a woman of ... unusual tastes. Still, I could not help but feel painfully modest before this old stranger. I hesitated, uncertain, but though I sent a beseeching glance at the Captain, she merely nodded stonily. My heart hammered beneath my firm young breasts. Helplessly, then, I flung off the under blouse. In the flickering firelight, my nipples rose up crinkled and stiff and dark. Biting my lip, I busied my hands with my petticoats, trying not to think of the old woman whose eyes roamed my body so searchingly. Despite my initial reluctance, however, I could not help feeling the faintest bit flattered. Aged though she was, she was no coarse, hairy man. She was like myself and like my cruel and sensuous Captain, a woman who clearly shared our secret feminine passions. Suddenly the thought was an arousing one. Had she, like my Captain, bedded many a wench in her day? Did the sight of my firm young body make her feel ... good? Did it make her feel weak and warm and wet? Beneath her prim blouse, I wondered for the first time, were her nipples as stiff as mine? Did that make her want to ... to do things? Ah, how familiar I was already with that feeling-the way a pretty wench could make my heart beat faster, make me feel restless and hungry and slippery below the sweat-matted blonde curls of my belly. Now I spared a quick glance at her and saw that the woman's fingertips worked restlessly upon her measuring tape. How she must flutter inside! I imagined: Did she want to touch as well as look? Did my pale girlish flesh fill her mind with wicked ideas? I looked up coquettishly from beneath my lowered lashes and found her staring with scarcely disguised lust. Smiling inwardly, I tried to slow my hands, to prolong this woman's torment. When I finally began to slide my petticoats down, it was with many a slow, caressing gesture and pretty wriggle of the hips. My navel was exposed, and more of my soft fluttering belly, then the moist delta of blonde curls at its base... How her eyes gleamed! Oh, that was what she wanted. Yes, she knew the beauty of a ripe, wet pussy! The pulse thudded hot and heavy in my most secret places. I saw the tip of Beryl's tongue play quickly across her lips. I saw her fingers working restlessly. Yes, I knew suddenly, over the years those gaunt, age-spotted hands had stripped many a coy maiden bare, trembling in need... I thought of those knowing old lips, and that quick pink tongue, and I could not help shuddering inside-a woman like this would know just what to do to another girl... I put my hands at my pale rounded thighs and coyly began to lower the fabric of my petticoats still further. I knew then that the torture was perhaps even greater for the old woman than it was for me. Though it was a naughty delight indeed to strip myself for this bright-eyed audience of one, how exquisitely tantalizing it must have been for her! There I was just inches before her, nude and beautiful... How she must long to touch me, I imagined, to cover my quivering young body with her roving hands, with her supple mouth! Only the thought of the Captain behind her could have stayed those natural feminine lusts. Nervously I glanced up at the Captain, and I saw that her face was dark with blood. Suddenly, I realized again how loath she was to share my beauty with another, and I quailed before her quick temper. I sensed that my protector would not hesitate to punish any disobedience. Shivering, I quickly dropped the thin petticoat and stepped my feet silently out of its meager warmth. My pale young body gleamed rounded and firm in the rich flickering glow of the firelight My heart pounded in pride that my Captain wanted me all for herself I felt pretty, and wanted-and, in a way I scarcely understood then, powerful It was a joy to know that I had brought that look of jealousy to her stern and sensuous face, had made her crave me even more ... yet I dared not displease her by seeming unfaithful or overbold. Suddenly her beautiful alabaster visage seemed so hard, so cold-chastened, I could scarcely raise mine eyes from the floor. "Well," said the Captain, her lips tight She took a steadying breath and continued more dryly, "I dare say she may be measured now, Beryl" "Aye," murmured Beryl. "Tis so, 'tis so." The old woman stepped close and again began to measure my bust. Whereas a moment earlier, however, she had stopped short, this time she proceeded most thoroughly. I tried to hold still as she ran the tape about my chest, first above my quivering breasts, then below them, and jotted down the figures. Then she measured across the fullest part, and as her dry fingertips brushed casually-purposefully-against my sensitized nipples, I felt a wicked tingle run straight to the hungry pit of my belly. The process was an exquisite torture. I bit my lip as I saw the Captain's drowsy green eyes fixed intently upon me. I dared show no emotion, but I could scarce deny the guilty pleasures of my wanton flesh. Certainly it was a naughty delight to be naked, shamelessly on display before these two appreciative women. And the gentle, forbidden touch of old Beryl's fingers upon my blushing nudity made me feel moist between my thighs. I feared my jealous mistress's wrath, but I was powerless to escape the tantalizing torment. The old woman's back was turned to the Captain as she worked, so only I could see the lust gleaming in her eyes as her eager gaze secretly roamed my body. Carefully Beryl placed the tape beneath the warm flesh of my left breast, and while she held the end there with her wrinkled-old thumb, she circled the tape flat against my chest all the way up and around the high mound of my bosom. Never before in Devon had this been done! As her tape measured that circle, so too did her hands, fondling as much as she dared with the Captain so close behind her. I tried not to fidget as she repeated the measuring for my right breast, her hands cupping the jiggling flesh. The dark peaks of my breasts were high and tight and crinkled, and I could not fail to notice the way the old seamstress licked her lips as she gazed upon them. Then-to my shock and delight-the old woman placed the end of the measuring tape directly upon the swollen nubbin of my left nipple. Squeezing the end fast there-deliciously-she slowly measured from the center of my quivering mound to the flat of my chest While her back kept the action from the Captain's direct view, she lost no time in caressing the tingling point of my breast, rolling the naughty pap between her thumb and fingertips. My breath caught in my throat, and as I raised mine eyes, I found her smiling slyly at me. I tried not to show any reaction as she teasingly repeated the measurement for my other breast, fondling my nipple all the while. At length she wrote down the figures. Soon Beryl lowered herself creakily to her knees and commenced to measure my waist, wrapping the tape squarely about the narrowest part of my flat young abdomen. Her flushed face was close to the fluttering white skin of my belly, close enough that I could feel her warm breath. Her dry fingertips slid innocently across my flesh as she worked, but I sensed her restless excitement I tried to hold still as the old bawd committed the number to her scrap of paper . Smiling faintly, she began to measure the gentle swell of my hips, her gaunt hands familiar on my hipbones, my haunches, the rounded mounds of my buttocks. Because Beryl's back was turned, the Captain could not see precisely how the woman fondled me. Yet she suspected-that I was certain. There was no mistaking the dark gleam of jealousy in her narrowed green eyes. I looked about helplessly, but there was naught I could do. If I stood beneath this woman's gaze, my nude body motionless as she caressed me, I angered my possessive mistress ... yet if I protested, I would anger her by slowing her friend in the work which the Captain herself had requested. What would she do to me, I wondered fearfully, when we were alone? She was so strong, so commanding... Yet fear was not the only emotion which quickened the beating of my heart. The situation was nearly unbearable for a girl of my excitable tendencies. Suddenly I could not help but notice how close the lined face of the old seamstress hung before my navel, so near that it almost brushed that indented bowl. Her nose hovered close before the moist golden tangles of my secret garden. Her nostrils dilated as she worked the tape about me, and all at once I knew that she was breathing hungrily of my scent, savoring it. The thought was deliriously arousing. I simply could not help myself. There was no harm, I reasoned silently, and besides, certainly the Captain would not even notice. Slowly, then, I shifted my weight to my left foot, and raised my right foot slightly upon its ball. As I did so, the moistened flesh of my upper thighs pulled stickily apart, sending the musky fragrance of my cunt wafting ever more powerfully into the old seamstress's face. My ripe lips glistened so close before her, smelly with my forbidden arousal. Surely, I thought, surely she could see how swollen my poor clitty pulsed between those puffy labia! I could see she would have done nearly anything to push her watering mouth through those sodden blonde curls and into that slick pink flesh; she trembled in her agony. "I imagine," the Captain intoned quietly from her place by the hearth, "that this ... measuring must be almost finished." Mine eyes darted in panic toward her fair, commanding face, but she had turned away a little, and her smooth pale cheeks and sensuous lips were lost in shadow. I could not read her expression. Her auburn hair cascaded beautifully about her, glowing and rich. "Y yes, yes, of course," stuttered Beryl hastily. She licked her lips and turned to smile placatingly at my mistress. "Just a little more to be done. But this last-" She shrugged helplessly. "'Twill need to be done just right" "Very well," the Captain murmured. "Now, dearie," said Beryl to me, "thou must put thy feet farther apart" I looked uncertainly at the Captain, but she was motionless as a statue. Biting my lip, I did as I was told. "Good," said the old woman softly, her dilated nostrils almost brushing my damp fur "Now," she crooned to me, "this must be done most carefully, so thou'lt need to hold still..." She looked slyly up at me, her eyes gleaming. I tried not to move as she placed one end of the tape at my navel and slowly pulled the rest down toward my crotch. Purposefully she parted my swollen outer lips, her bony fingers prodding suddenly at my neglected clitoris as she smoothed the measuring tape directly across the center of my dripping quim. I caught my breath as she penetrated me secretly. Fucking me slowly behind the shield of her turned back, she used her other hand to draw the other end of the tape between my buttocks and up to the back of my neck I shuddered on the brink of a guilty climax as, humming, she released the tape and wrote down this last figure. My face burned. With much effort, the old woman rose and stood before me, her back still turned to the Captain. While she ran her eyes carefully down the list of measurements upon the scrap of paper, she tapped an index finger idly against her lips. I could not help but notice how that gaunt old digit glistened with the musky juices of my cunt. As I stared unblinking, she placed her fingertip between her lips and slowly sucked it off-I shuddered helplessly, my nipples so stiff that they hurt. "Well, Captain," Beryl said finally, turning, "this much is done. I've many pieces ready, and all that needs to be done is to trim them and put them together aright" She pushed her tape and the paper back into her deep pockets. "I'll get to work in the morn, and by tomorrow evening thou'll be able to display thy little pet as she deserves to be...." "We sail in the morning," the Captain said flatly. "Have them ready by then." "But-" Beryl sputtered for a moment, but then she nodded slowly. "Aye," she admitted, "I suppose I can do it. Will thou be coming back in the morning...?" "We'll stay here tonight," the Captain said decisively, "and leave first thing in the morn." "Well," sighed Beryl. "As thou like..." She nodded to a door which led to another room. "The bed's in there, of course. I'll be working in the back, so I shan't disturb thee." "Good," smiled the Captain, clapping, the other on her bony shoulder so heartily that the old woman staggered She stared fixedly at the seamstress until finally the woman pursed her lips and looked nervously at the floor. "Good night," muttered Beryl. She hurried back through the rear doorway and shut the door behind her. Slowly my mistress turned to look at me, her cool green eyes measuring my nude form as I stood there, trembling and afraid. The tip of her tongue played across her sculpted lips. "Get thee to bed, Rebecca," she murmured darkly. Nodding quickly, I bent down to retrieve my clothing, but she rapped out, "Leave them!" She angled her eyes toward the portal of the side room, and I could do naught but pad silently before her into the chamber. The tiny room was bare save for a bed, and when the Captain closed the door behind us, it was lit only by the faint moonlight which seeped through the low clouds and into the single small window. I bit my lip and turned back to face my mistress-and I caught her openhanded blow square upon my blazing cheek! Gasping in pain, I cowered before her, naked and helpless. "Captain," I pleaded, "please..." The Captain's eyes glinted dangerously in the darkness as she quickly disrobed. She threw off her blouse, and her heavy breasts bounced before me, firm and stiff nippled. She slid her trousers off her sleek hips and down her tapered limbs, kicked them away disdainfully-and suddenly I could smell her liquid femininity. My breath caught in my throat-she was so blindingly beautiful. Whereas mine was the bloom of youth, hers was a queenly beauty, almost terrifying in its majesty. Most likely she was but a decade my senior; long enough to mature the mind yet not long enough to weather the ivory temple of the flesh. Though in reality little older than myself she was infinitely more worldly-and infinitely more demanding. I quivered before her. "What art thou, Rebecca?" she asked quietly. "Wh-what?" I stammered. "C-captain, I don't-" She lunged forward and caught me by the nipples, so hard that I squealed. Her russet hair glowed like some crooked halo about her cruel, desirable face. Her breath came quick and ragged, and her full, sensuous lips were parted in an uneasy mixture of possessive rage and lust. Twisting roughly, she pulled me down by my agonized, erect buds until I knelt before her red-haired pubis. "What art thou?" Panting, I bit my lip. "I am thine, Captain, thine alone!" I scented the womanly tang of her warm, moist cunny in my dilating nostrils. "Thou art mine," she agreed, stepping closer so that her fragrant triangle of russet curls engulfed my face. Kneeling submissively at her feet, my head between her elegant ivory thighs, I breathed only the heady odor of her excited body. Moist curling hairs pushed between my lips, up my nose. "Thou art mine," she repeated. She drew my gasping face closer with her fingertips and, pressing her mound forward, she exulted, "My pet. My lover. My slave." "Yes, Captain, yes!" I gasped. Her slick, smelly fur filled my mouth, but I continued reverently, "I am thy pet, thy lover-thy slave." My pussy throbbed, untouched, between my thighs as I opened my mouth again and pushed my tongue gratefully through her dense hairs, searching for the tasty flesh beneath. Though it had been bare hours since I had tasted her, suddenly I longed to nurse again in her welcoming lap.... To my surprise and dismay, the Captain stepped back. Bending, she pushed my hands behind my back and swiftly lashed my wrists together with a length of cord she apparently had concealed in her palm. She stood elegantly and slowly, teasingly turned away from me. I watched her shapely hips roll as she stepped up to the bed. As I writhed there on the floor, longing for the intimate taste of her upon my tongue, for the touch of her aggressive fingers upon my body, she threw back the covers of the bed and climbed in. Gloriously naked in the shuttered moonlight, she stretched herself luxuriously, and gently began to stroke her fingertips across the firm peaks of her breasts. Beneath her belly, between the rounded shapes of her long sleek thighs, glistened an aromatic garden.... "Worship me," she whispered. Gasping in adoration, I crept forward on my knees. With my hands bound behind me, even that short distance was difficult, and more than once I almost fell. Yet she made no move to help me, her cool green eyes regarding me intently. After my behavior, I knew, she would expect nothing but absolute commitment-I had to prove myself worthy again, had to prove that I was deserving of her love. If I were to worship her as I must, no little inconveniences such as my bonds could hinder me. In a moment I reached the edge of the bed and made as if to climb up ... but the Captain's long trim calf blocked my way. She rotated her ankle gracefully and with pointed toes brushed a wisp of blonde hair from my flushed forehead. Slowly she drew her slim bare foot down my burning cheek, closer to my parted lips. "Worship me, Rebecca," she husked. "Yes, Captain," I murmured. I could smell the wet pussy between her parted thighs, and in the pale moonlight I could just glimpse her tapering fingers traveling familiarly across the crinkled peaks of her high breasts. I felt privileged that she would touch herself before me. I knew, however, that the real pleasuring would be required of myself-how I longed to drown myself in her sodden cunt! Yet somehow I sensed that after my shameless behavior with the seamstress, my mistress required still further submission.... To redeem myself I realized, I must indeed worship her. I had to offer myself selflessly, loving not only those secret feminine places I ached to make mine own, but every inch of her delectable white body. I needed to be willing to do anything--everything -for her. Quivering, I moved my dry lips tentatively across the surprisingly smooth skin of my Captain's elegant foot. It smelled faintly of the sweaty leather of her tall polished boot, though not unpleasantly so. Trembling with desire, I knew that truly it mattered not, for I was indeed her slave-worship her I must. I let my lips tickle her lightly. Whatever task she requested, I was powerless to deny. Any girl of our mutual sensibilities would long to throw herself face-first into this stern woman's dripping quim, but to favor her methodically from the very soles of her feet was ... strange, and unusual. It required a selfless submission, an overwhelming love which only I could give her. I craved to prove myself worthy of her. Slowly I ran my tongue tip along the arched sole of her foot, reveling in this strange new taste. I never would have imagined that such attention might be pleasurable, but I could not help smiling, for I felt her tremble in return. I licked her supple flesh purposefully, teasing the sensitive areas between her toes on a wicked impulse. I sensed that was agreeable to her, so I opened my lips wider and sucked those slim toes into my warm, wet mouth one by one, kissing them, tantalizing them, making her catch her breath in the darkness. Gratified that she still accepted my love-and thrilled that I could pleasure her so-I craned my neck to give the other foot the same treatment Soon I moved my willing mouth higher, up her ankles and her trim calves.... She raised her legs silently in the darkness, and I took the hint, running my adoring mouth up to the fluttering skin behind her knees. I nursed there until it seemed she could stand it no more, then I began inching my supple lips down from her knees, across the trembling flesh of her shapely thighs. Groaning, I climbed with difficulty into bed, struggling like an animal, my hands still lashed securely behind my back. Still fingering her nipples, the Captain made no move to help me. My clitty throbbed beneath my belly, but I was helpless to satisfy myself. In those moments, I knew, I existed only to worship my mistress, and I would have to take my sole pleasure in that. I fell facedown on the bed between her thighs, then raised myself awkwardly to plant kisses upon her elevated knees. Slowly I began licking and sucking my way down, down toward the treasure which nestled between her raised legs. I tasted the faint salt of her sweat, smelled the heavy scent of her musky cunt, but still I forced my ravenous mouth to slow itself. Truly, I thought, I would show her what worship really was. Slowly, slowly I nibbled her silken skin, nearer and nearer to that dense crinkly forest where I longed to be. Yet though I was close enough to taste the rivulets of wanton lubrication upon her upper thighs, close enough that my nose brushed slick auburn fur, I made my lips move aside. Gasping, I lunged lower, my shameless tongue tasting the warm skin of her sweaty buttocks. My worshipful lips sucked unashamedly there, chewing upon her rolling white handfuls. As my tongue worked wickedly at her soft, intimate flesh, the tip of my nose grew smeared with her generous fluids. I could scarce restrain myself from rising, yet panting with the effort, I pushed my face lower between her soft cheeks, licking and probing, even between.... The taste was ... different ... yet in her sudden gasp I could tell that no other girl had favored her so. Yes, she had picked out many a wench, she had said, but none who would do this! She elevated her hips a little more in the darkness, and I licked what was presented to me, purposefully. Strange though this new act was, it was heavenly to abandon myself to her, to let my tongue cleanse that secret, sensitive skin. It thrilled me that I could surprise her, and make her respond. Jaw trembling, I pushed my flushed face higher, past the succulent glories of her dripping pussy, across her shapely hipbones, across the swell of her belly. My chin scratched with the crinkly fur of her mount of Venus, I worked my lips all about her shivering abdomen. I tongued her navel mercilessly. Groaning, I maneuvered my shoulders so that I bobbled one of my breasts between her thighs. Smiling dirtily, I arched my back and dragged my erect nipple up through her furry cleft, along her protruding clitoris, then back again. The Captain trembled beneath me. Shuddering, I repeated the act with my other breast, savoring the naughty tingle it sent to mine own pussy, yet all too aware of how it teased my headstrong mistress as well How proud I was that I could make her quiver inside! Wallowing unsteadily across her, I licked my way up her long smooth torso, bathing her with my tongue. Soon I reached the backs of the Captain's hands, hands which gently cupped and fondled her own breasts. I kissed her tapering wrists and her long slim fingers, lovingly, knowing that she touched herself just for me. I sucked naughtily at her fingers one by one, treating them as if they themselves were nipples-and I felt her shiver. Gradually I nuzzled one of her hands aside and let mine own mouth drop down upon a resilient mound of woman-flesh. I laved her firm white bosom scrupulously, tasting the faint salty sheen of her excited sweat, tongue tip swirling closer and closer about the crinkly pink-brown nubbin which seemed to quiver beneath my breath. Hungrily, then, I engulfed that over-sensitized peak. I sucked it deep between my flushed cheeks, sighing, pulling at it with my tongue, working its swollen base with my lips. I could feel the heart within my Captain's proud chest pounding with joy as I nursed there so passionately, and in the dim light my heavy-lidded eyes caught the gratifying sight of her long sensuous fingers still fondling her other breast. I smiled secretly as her fingertips danced in time to the tune my naughty mouth played upon her quivering body. Gasping, I pushed myself awkwardly higher, tonguing my way up the firm slopes of her upper breasts to her collarbone, her shoulders, her neck. As I climbed her thus, hands lashed behind my writhing back, my leg chanced to brush her pussy-it was wet almost beyond belief, I discovered, and the knowledge made me tantalize her tender white throat with newfound emotion. I tongued her pale skin longingly, licking and sucking, working from her soft neck to the sensitive lobes of her blood-warmed ears. I nipped playfully at her rounded lobes, licked behind them, teased my tongue within her ears themselves. Though the Captain struggled to remain in command, I noticed that she could not keep her betraying breath from coming faster through her parted lips. I smiled in the darkness as I kissed her burning cheeks, her forehead, her beautifully flushed eyelids. Finally, gasping, I put my lips to her mouth and let my tongue swirl sloppily into her, making her respond. She knew where it had been-except for her sopping cunt, where had it not?-yet she was powerless to resist. I thrilled with wild joy as she accepted my kisses hungrily. Shuddering, I pulled my lips reluctantly free and tongued my way down her sweating body, tasting her, trying to make her mine. I licked her desperately, struggling uselessly against my bonds. How I wished to break free of the cord which lashed my wrists together, to stroke her, and hold her... How I wished it were she, she!-who were bound, so that I might torture her forever, and make her scream out her love for me.... Mind blazing with that wicked thought, I pushed my ravenous mouth at long last into her sopping cunt and licked her quivering pink flesh deliriously. Her taste was strong and womanly, the product of her fierce arousal and the dried scent of our earlier lovemaking. I breathed deep of that exquisite aroma. My thighs ground spasmodically together, giving me some modicum of relief, as I burrowed my face into her auburn curls, pushing through opening petals of wet, musky velvet I longed to use my hands, that I might part those lips even more, baring the pearly seat of her fleshly desires for my wanton mouth... But that, I realized in some dim corner of my mind still capable of rational thought, was precisely why my Captain had bound me thus-to make me her slave as utterly as any beast. Oh, yes, any girl could lick a quim when it was held open daintily, clitty exposed for even the most inexperienced to see. But it took a true lover of cunt to pleasure a woman thus, like an animal, with no hands. To push one's face shamelessly forward into that messy paradise, burning cheeks shining and wet, eager nostrils filled with the delicious reek of the musky lubrication-now, that was true submission. I reveled in my selfless servitude. Moaning helplessly, my hands tied tightly behind my back, I pried apart her slippery labia minora with my nimble tongue tip and sucked her throbbing clitoris between my lips. Her whole body responded, hips bucking of their own accord as finally I made her lose that composure. My mouth engulfed her quim, my lips plastered to her like a lamprey. My stiff nippled breasts hung low between her thighs swaying from the force of her hips humping my lips. Mine own thighs ground together, sending a liquid shiver to the pit of my fluttering belly. It was a pale imitation of that which I gave my beloved Captain, but that night it was enough. My flesh glowed with the slow-mounting pleasure. Triumphantly, then, I engulfed her with my worshipful mouth, feeling the succulent, salty morsel of her clit pulse against my tongue. I teased it and tortured it, on and on and on as she spasmed, as helpless as I! My heart pounded with pride beneath my stiff-nippled breasts as I heard her gasping uncontrollably in the darkness. I thought her climax never would end.... Finally, exhausted and hands still lashed behind my back, I fell blissfully asleep in the wet, smelly curls of her satiated cunt. Preview of Chapter Seven I woke, screaming in joy, as the Captain mounted my unconscious body and without any preliminaries thrust the Tusk of Delight into the depths of my shameless cunt. There was a brief moment of dryness and a sudden stab of pain, but embarrassingly soon the petals of the open pink flower of my womanhood dripped with my eager lubrication. I gasped at the ferocity, the urgency, of her lovemaking. Her hands gripped my hips possessively as she lunged again and again between my hastily parted thighs. The sudden assault should have torn me asunder ... yet it seemed somehow that my wanton flesh was ready for her, even in sleep. I knew it, wordlessly, deep within-and so did she. More to come... Feel free to send comments to gaspar50@yahoo.com Transcribed by Glinda Goodwitch gaspar50@yahoo.com