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Give me that treasure, matey! (Autumn and LifeonMars)

"That is why you can never win. No matter what you do to me, you know I will not surrender to you. I'm not stupid enough to believe you'd spare me from harm's way if I gave you the information you crave. I'm going to die with my little secret, Morris. I'll go to a watery grave knowing the whereabouts of the grandest treasure I've ever seen. Doesn't that infuriate you?" Her words, though firm, seemed a little distracted. She was watching him smear her taste on his tongue, lapping at her bitter nectar. Arms pulled down on the restraints not because she wanted to harm him, but she wanted to exhaust her lust. Eve wanted to tangle herself in primal pleasures with him, her nails wanting to drag down his skin as the two used each other to satisfy their own carnal hungers.

Jade irises fell on his throbbing member, watching it protrude from his groin. She licked her lips to entice him, wanting to torment him as well. Her legs in his grasp, she closed her eyes to listen to his story. Though she was sure the point of the tale was not about a child, her thoughts couldn't but wander to what would happen if he'd implanted a seed within her that would grow in her belly. There was no doubt to Eve's reaction: she'd cut the unborn babe from her womb herself and pitch it into the sea. There was no room for tenderness in her life, and her hardened heart wouldn't allow it. Pirates didn't make good mothers, and she certainly was that.

His hands squeezed her thighs with brute force, showing off his massive strength. As his grip roamed to her ankles, forcing her legs up, she knew what was coming. The crown pressed against her rosebud, almost tantalizing her. Men often chose that method of penetration to degrade a woman, but she didn't see it that way. It was forbidden and erotic, two things that motivated her the most. No man had ever been worthy or adventurous enough to attempt it. "No." She stated, salivating at the thought.
 
"You think I'll allow you to die? I'll keep you for myself, a pretty treasure for my amusement so long as you hide the treasure from me. I'll have you every night, and perhaps let my men have their way with you as well." If the pathetic fools could get their dicks up of course. "Imagine, the most deadly pirate on these waters reduced to a common whore." Of course she was far from common. She held a raw desire in her eyes that could not be tamed, and for a moment he considered releasing her from her bindings. But he was no fool.

Gritting his teeth he pressed forward, her wall of flesh refusing to yield at first. He had to force his way in, his cock head pressing through the excruciatingly tight hole as he took her anal virginity. He let out a growl, deep and primal at being the first to claim her this way. He would ensure she never forgot this night, for he knew he would not as long as he lived.

It was yard work, her body wanting it but like herself refusing to give in to him easily. Finally with a brutal thrust he hit home, tearing into her halfway in one go. He felt her walls tear slightly from the strain, never having anything this big inside of her ass before. He let out a snarl as he pressed in deeper, determined to get himself all the way inside. He saw her juices leaking from her quivering mound, her bodies arousal so blatantly evident. He let one of his hands off her leg as he pushed in deeper, fingering her cunt as he took her. "What would you do if I released you right now Evie...?" he said through labored breath. "Tell me how you would take your vengeance..."

He was in all the way now, but he would be damned if he would give her a moment to get used to it. He rocked his hips back, sliding back out of her as roughly as before then ramming back inside, jarring her insides and causing her golden rings to move with him. He started slowly, pulling out then shoving it back in, out, in, back, forth....
 
Eve knew there was no stock in his threat. She was too rare to him, too precious for him to share her among his men. No, he viewed her as his prize, the one piece of treasure he wouldn't give up to others. There was too much pride at having conquered her thus far. She would never become a common whore because he wouldn't allow it.

His logic was backwards, though. He didn't seem to notice he was giving her what she wanted, fulfilling her libidinous craves. If he proved to be skilled enough to satisfy her needs, there would be no reason for her to ever admit to the location of that island. He'd become her slave of carnality.

As he pushed his girth through the unused sphincter into her shallow canal with unyielding force, Eve gasped aloud. It was unlike the elasticity of her other passage, which eventually stretched and gave to accommodate and intruder. No, the more he pressed, the harder he ripped and shred his way into her. The pain was enough to nearly stupefy her, clouding her mind and judgment. If he wanted to hear her scream in agony, he would almost accomplish it. The urge to verbalize her torment was on the tip of her tongue, but her subconscious pride would not allow it. She swallowed back the noise, forcing air to move in and out of her lungs instead.

He was relentless, thrusting harshly into her with reckless abandon. He wouldn't dare give her body a moment to adjust, obviously feeding on the terrorizing of her flesh. He rocked her, her breasts swinging freely, nipples searing in pain. She'd never felt so invaded, so beaten. And, yet, her masochistic self loved it, her honey flowing freely around his fingers.

The lustful mentality was there, too. He asked her a question that aroused her further, thoughts of freedom and vengeance tempting her. "You've already started to feed a hunger that cannot be denied. I'd chain you to this bed and lash the hot leather of the cat across your naked skin. My dagger would swipe at your wounds, carving my name into your skin." She paused, an overwhelming pang of hurt licking at her nether regions. "When I was sure I had made you livid, I'd let you go. It's more fun to chase, the thrill of trying to catch the other."
 
Her words were laced with dark promise, and it fueled him even farther in knowing she meant every word. He could picture the two of them locked in combat forever, their dark passions clashing against each other in a cavalcade of sin and debauchery. Oh, but he did not get this far in life by giving into every base desire. No, he would take the treasure from her, that he was certain. It seemed, however, he would need to try different tactics than his usual techniques.

But damn if she were not a stubborn wench! He thrust into her faster now, each pounding of flesh driven by anger and a powerful lust. She would take everything he had and still spit in his face before handing over what he desired. She was one you couldn't threaten or put fear into, she would only laugh and take it all. It was infuriating as it was infatuating.

He felt something easing his passage slightly, assuming it must be blood from his rough entry. Good, he grinned, he wouldn't have it any other way. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed in the room, his heavy breathing mixing with their rough fucking. He watched as her breasts moved with each of his movements, the gold in her centers lightly jumping as her body was used for his pleasures. He knew she was in pain, her eyes telling him everything but her mouth giving him nothing. She wanted more, wanted him to try and take everything she had but most of all she wanted him to fight her for it.

"Tell me where the map is," he grunted out as his member tore through anus, "tell me where and I'll release your bindings." He would do it too. He may very well be killed, but one way or another he'd have that map!"
 
His increase in speed jarred her on the bed, the wrinkled sheets sticking to the dried blood on her back and pulling at the tender flesh with each upward thrust made. Her head still throbbed from banging into the wall, her breasts felt singed, and darker tunnel was roaring with a fire that consumed her entirety. She was in a world of pain unknown to her, and she imagined that being stabbed with a thousand dull, serrated daggers couldn't cause her as much agony as the sexual encounter between them.

She could tell she was frustrating him now, his powerful pummeling making his anger apparent. Eve could feel every inch of him burying into her depths, the impalement feeling as if it may actually rip through her. Blood and evidence of arousal mixed, creating a slippery environment for him. She reveled in the pain, even though she equally wanted it to end. And, as much as her body wanted his stamina to be weak, Eve wanted him to last as long as possible. He had lived up to everything the perfect adversary should have, and she'd hate to be disappointed by his inability to fulfill her lustful wishes.

He had finally understood he couldn't coax the truth out of her with terror. She was simply too hardened to fall easily to intimidation. No, he was smarter than she gave him credit for. He was going to give her what she wanted, a great exchange. Oh, how tempting the offer. She pictured herself clawing at him, heaving objects at his head. She wanted to immobilize him, drag the blade of her dagger across his calloused skin. Then, she would take his needle and pierce his manhood repeatedly until he screamed and begged her to stop.

Tongue licked her lips at the thought, the map's location dangerously close to being revealed. No, she couldn't give in that easily. Once he had the map, she truly would be defeated. "Tell me how you would do it. If I gave you the map right now, tell me truthfully what you would do to me. I fear nothing so don't hold back. How would you kill me, Morris? Tell me everything and you may get your wish."
 
She wanted this as much as he did, of that he was certain. Beneath her tough exterior, behind all the curses and insults was a creature like himself, one fueled by their darkest desires. Where it not for the shred of restraint they both had they would have destroyed themselves in their mutual passion for destruction and blood. They were of that most dangerous breed, those that craved the darker things in life, and the power and knowledge to keep them.

Her words mixed with the grunts, groans, and fleshy sounds that resided around them. It egged him on, letting out his darkest thoughts as he plowed her insides. Never before had he felt so much power, so much domination over a woman and yet feel as though she still had the upper hand. He could do whatever he wanted to her, use whatever measures he wanted on her body, but she would not relent until she wanted to. Very well, he would play her game.

He leaned over her, watching her breasts bounce up and down with his thrusts like the ocean waves themselves. Their gold additions sparked his lust for her treasure once more, and with a sick grin he took her right ring in his teeth and pulled. Her nipple hung on for dear life, stretching in agony and turning even reader than before. He let it snap back into place and looked back into her eyes, feeling her warm wetness on his chest.

"You're not the one in charge here," he told her, "but I shall grant your request. When you surrender the map I would pull out of you, right here and now and undo your bindings. Then I would let you take your anger out on me and meet you for every punch, every scratch. I would hurl you against the walls and let your own blades pierce your skin, letting the blood fall to the floor before a bent you over the table and had my way with you once more. You could scratch me, beat, even claw my face and still I would not relent until we were both to exhausted to move.
 
In one aspect, Eve didn't like the way he was looking at her, the sadistic smirk plastered proudly across his face. In another light, however, she loved it. He leaned into her, snapping his jaws around the gold rings embedded through her sensitive nipple. He wretched and pulled with his teeth, as if trying to yank the jewelry right out of the tissue of her breast. As much of a rough woman she truly was, her body was not without limits. Though her name would live in infamy forever, her body was indeed mortal and there was only so much it could take.

With that notion, poor Bloody Evie cried out into the night. The sound was a mixture between a hushed scream and a defeated whimper, and though it wasn't very loud, it was still quite audible. Moisture gathered in the corner of her eyes as a natural reaction to her damaged nerves, threatening to trickle down her cheeks. It was unfortunate that he was breaking the spirit of such a remarkable creature, caging her beautiful wings when he ought to be the only man in the world who should be urging her to fly. She was worthy of being his equal, she had proven that time and time again. Eve had certainly outlasted any woman who would have been put through these excruciating crucibles and would probably have more endurance than almost any man. No, Eve certainly had held up well.

Still, the truth of his words was extremely erotic. As much as she hurt, she lusted for everything he said. The imagery was extensive, and in the end she wondered which one of them would prevail. Perhaps both would perish by the other's hand and go on into the afterlife still fighting. Imagine! All of eternity stuck in a never-ending battle! Utopia, indeed!

"Your words are tempting." She stated, her voice less enthusiastic than usual. But Eve knew her body was already too exhausted to move. She wouldn't be able to do herself justice and fight him with every fiber of her fiery spirit. "But not tempting enough. What happens after we have both surrendered? What would you do with me, then?"
 
His body almost stilled at the sound of her cry, the beautiful sound of a body breaking that he had been striving for all this time. It was far quieter than the howls of agony he had forced from the mouths of others in his time, but her small, defeated cry was loud in his ears. Soon...soon she would bow to him.

And yet, there was a trace of melancholy in his thoughts, as if he was disappointed. She was by far the most incredible woman, pirate or not, he had ever met. No one, men included, had stood up to him this way or defied him for so long under such conditions. All from Governors daughters to the Captains of Royal Navy ships had cowered to him, fearful of his power. It would be a shame to see such a fiery young woman broken, he thought. Of course, if she would only submit to him and serve him she could retain her power. That was the only way this could end in his eyes.

Even now she put up a front, even though he could tell she was growing weak. "I would be a fool to think I could keep you on this ship without you trying to kill me. There would be only one option of course." Yes, the most feared of pirate punishments: "Marooning. I would leave you upon a little jungle island I know off, away from any and all persons while I collected your treasure. There you would stay until my return, my ship heavy with your gold and rich of your hidden treasures. I would come ashore alone, and there we would finish things. Sword to sword, hand to hand, like true pirates."

Never once did he slow his thrusts into her tight asshole, his attacks only increasing in power and speed. He was close to coming now, and as he felt it rising in his lower body he let his fingers dig deep into her slit, moving in time and coming up slick with her juices each time.
 
Marooning her on an island would never do for her. Though she would be free to wonder it without restraint, it was a far worse prison than any other punishment. Evie needed the waves of the sea as much as they needed her. The fed and took care of each other, the ocean providing her safety and enemies and she giving it blood for nourishment in return. No, there was no end to this, or at least not a realistic one that Eve would accept. The map was too precious for her to exchange her life for it and be dwindled down to nothing more than a has-been on a remote island.

"No, I won't allow it." Her words were forced through gritted teeth, heavily laced with ragged breaths. Idealistically, Evie would find a way to best him. She'd slash him into shark-bites and feed him to his crew for a feast. Of course, that was unrealistic as his brute force was proving. Both equally idealistic and unrealistic, also, was the thought of the two simply resolving and terrorizing the seas together. She knew, though, that her pride would only allow this to end in two ways: her death or his.

"How much more do you think you can do to me? Perhaps it is comforting to know you have nearly broken my body, but the fire in my eyes still burns." Her lips managed to twist into a triumph smirk, though her fleshy vessel was being tortured to unimaginable depths. "You cannot win this, Morris. I may die here, but along with it will go that treasure you seek."

Could he even hear her words or was she only moving her lips? Perhaps this was all in her head, a delusion her mind cleverly created as a means of self-preservation. Physically, she knew her traitorous body was still aroused, but his plans for her had turned off any mental lust. She became limp, allowing him to use her unmoving form, which she thought would anger him more. Another tally added to Bloody Evie's score.
 
Morris could feel himself approaching climax, his balls tightening and reading to release their load. Still she would not let up and still she mocked him! Even now she tried to find ways to thwart his efforts to break her when a normal woman would have gone mad. Of course, many stories of her life claimed she was quite mad already.

"I will win," he hissed, fire burning just as brightly in his eyes. "I will win and see you bound naked as I bask in the wealth of your treasure. I will see your look of despair when you realize that all your efforts in hiding it from the world were for naught. And I will see you beg my favor!" He shaft sawed in and out of her abused asshole like a raging storm, the bed creaking with ever powerful thrust. He enter body was going into making her feel this, making her know who exactly was fucking her.

He would not allow her to lay there like a dead fish and pretend nothing was happening. As he reached his climax and groaned out his fingers reached her clit, so far untouched by him, and pinched it hard. At the same time he came hard, his hot seed erupting inside of her and coating her insides with his cum. The sounds could be heard throughout the ship, much to the laughter of the crew.
 
Eve knew from the way his body was moving more urgently that he would soon release his vile seed within her dark cavern. Soon, she told herself, he would be spent and she would gain her freedom. His enemy fingers reached for her treacherous nub, grasping it and sending another surge of pleasure through her battered physique. Teeth clenched down on her bottom lip, keeping her sinful moan at bay.

With a great roar, he released his pungent cream into her loins, coating the walls of her heated insides. The warmth permeated throughout her body, back arching up toward him in lustful defeat. The mocking laughter of the crew assaulted her ears, their melody ringing like a harsh dissonance within the chambers of her mind. Head rolling back, Bloody Evie did something unpredictable: she joined their laughter. It wasn't the same tone as the victorious men chanted, but a deep, maniacal rumble that would frighten young children.

"What's left, Morris?" She asked, hushing the cackle of her voice. "I took all your brutal attacks and laughed them back into your face. Look into my eyes now, do you see any fear?" Body collapsed back into the mattress, chest heaving with the remnants of her hearty laughter. "You've lost!" She exclaimed, flashing a twisted grin into his face. "You'll never rid yourself of me because you know that after me no woman will ever sate your desire again." Tongue snaked out to lick over her lips, eyes dancing proudly across his face. "And, still, you are no closer to finding what you seek than you were when you first boarded my ship."
 
Morris loomed over her, panting from exertion and from the ferocity of their carnal act. Hot cum oozed out of her ass as he pulled back slightly, running down her cheeks and staining the sheets underneath them. She mocked him. Her sneering, belittling face still mocked him after he had beaten her, raped her, took away almost everything she had. He grit his teeth as he words pushed him further along the edge but said nothing, instead letting his actions speak for him.

CRACK! His hand shot out and backhanded her across the face sending her body rocking to the side. It was quickly followed by another, than another as Morris let loose his anger on the woman below him. He pulled himself out entirely, his naked body reaching for the whip that had reddened her skin just moments ago.

He growled at he and brought it down anew, not just aiming for her breasts but striking her all over. Her chest, her legs, her arms, he wanted her body to be on fire from his assault. The black tendril licked her body, leaving red marks were ever it touched, finally ending the attack with one final strike against her tender womanhood...
 
Just as she had planned, Evie's mockery had bested him. He was a ruthless pirate; a man of such masculinity and dominance that he was used to getting everything he wanted. In a world such as theirs, Bloody Evie was a threat. Half the size and twice the mental strength of any other man that dared to cross the seas, her relentless attitude forced even the most powerful into submission. She could only imagine what it must have been like for Morris- a most worthy opponent, she had to admit,- to realize that this bundle of a woman refused to admit defeat. She would not cower to him, no matter what he did to her.

His hand was like iron as it slapped across her face with such a force that her body tipped to the side. She had no time to react before he was recklessly bashing at her head. His strikes were relentless, the heel of his hand often coming across the same spot on her tender jaw. When he finally broke, Eve opened her mouth, the bones of her jaw creaking from abuse. His guttural growl suggested his composure was completely falling apart, and he was bordering the brink of insanity. Perhaps she had made him a much more dangerous creature. After all, what did he have to lose?

The leather whip was in his grasp again. Remembering the pain of the strikes, her body flinched just a mere second before it was brought down across her body. Her gasp filled the bedchamber, sore face turning to the opposite side to try to avoid the cracks. Onward, the man assaulted her in a fit of hysterics, leaving no inch of skin untouched by the cat-o-nine. The woman thought of all the men who had faced this sort of terror from him, though she doubted any of them had been punished this severely simply because they hadn't angered Morris like she had. He was frantic with her now, tired of and frustrated by her antics.

The leather tendrils were like firm hands grasping at her body. Each time it was pulled back to strike again, her frame arched with it as if it was pulling her into the air. Fire lapped at her flesh, making her feel as though she was being burned alive. She was certain that she was about to scream, to give him what he wanted, but she could find no voice. The combination of the blows to her face and the burning of the whip had left her dazed, her eyes clouding over in a haze. By the time he had finished abusing her, there was a look of vacancy in the usually vivacious orbs.

The tension in her body relaxed against the softness of the mattress. Whelps raised across her flesh, fresh blood trickling down her limbs and torso, sliding to stain the linens beneath her. Gaze was unfocused, locked on a blank spot on the wall. Her chest fell so shallowly that one must wonder if she was even still breathing. In fact, the only sign that she was still living came from the uncontrollable pounding of her heart against her ribcage. Bloody Evie was broken.
 
The cat-o-nine tails fell to the wooden floorboards, the individual tendrils spreading out and ending with droplets of blood. Morgan was breathing heavily, his hard, rage-filled eyes watching the still form of Bloody Evie. His entire body was overcome with an intense, powerful feeling at the sight of her broken and bloodied body lying their in what had once been her own bed. He felt aware of every aspect of their bodies, the cuts she had given him and his retaliation on her in turn.

Slowly he approached her, reaching for her chin without care for her pain or suffering and forcing her to face him. She had been the most intoxicating woman he had ever met, as enticing as she was fierce and every bit the bane in his side he had expected her to be. He had not met someone, man or woman, who had carried themselves like she had and hold on for so long. Their was some melancholy at the sight of her now, bleeding and barely breathing before him with those eyes that he had seen on his victims so many times. A twinge of regret over snuffing such a light...

But within him he also carried the thrill of conquest, of having bested the legend Bloody Evie herself and proving his own dominance over these waters. Her body was now a testament to him and his cruelty, of how nothing could stand in his way. He would make sure all knew of his victory here.

He looked into those eyes, those hazy, broken eyes, and smiled. "I'll have what I came for, woman."
 
It was unfair that Eve had been born a woman with a much more fragile structure than a man. She had outlasted any opponent throughout her entire maraud with the exception of the victorious man leering over her now. It was unfortunate that her body had given in to him when her mind did not, but even she could not defy the laws of nature. She had proven herself time and time again, but that wasn't enough to keep her going now. The fact was that bones could only take so much breaking and veins could only bleed a certain amount until the body weakened.

His careless fingers gripped her sore jaw, forcing her face to mirror his. There was no sign in her stoic expression that she was hurting, though he had to know she was. Eyes blinked once, trying to refocus on his cruel features. She would have spat in his face had she been able to muster the strength, but she couldn't. Who knew what he would do to her then, though she knew she had earned the right to be disposed. He had won the battle; claimed her ship and her in mind, body, and spirit. Her flames were barely burning now, only enough to flicker before they would be extinguished.

His lips moved, his voice carrying over to her ears in such a slow motion that she had trouble deciphering it. He still wanted the treasure. Her head shook slightly in his hand, defying him. Lips curled into a shallow smirk, hollow eyes holding enough spark to deny his request. After all that, after having her spirit stripped from her, she still found a way to deprive him from what he sought most. He had won the battle, but the war was still unsettled. So long as she could hold on to her life, he would not gain his treasure.
 
As unfortunate as it was for Evie to be born a woman Morgan had the luck of being born a man in a mans world. And from his experiences, his lifetime of cruelty and piracy he could not imagine he would ever be used to a woman such as her, one who never gives in and fights to the last breath. She should be broken! She should be giving him everything he wanted and begging to give him more! Damn her!

His hand struck her face once more and he grabbed her wrist as he leaned in close, anger evident in his eyes. "Arrogant bitch," he growled, "I will see to it you live the rest of your days as a common whore with every sailor with a dabloon to his name getting a taste. You'll..."

A small 'chink' drew his eyes to her wrist for one fraction of a second, but in that time he saw it. His threat dying on his lips he looked closer at her wrist, pushing away the golden bracelet and looking over the strange tattoo she carried there. It was unusual in its detail, the stars that dotted her flesh looking as though they were created by an expert astronomer. He trailed a finger over the inked skin. "And what," he asked, "is this?"
 
The solidity of his hand struck against her abused jaw, causing the bone to creak in protest. She stretched open her mouth, body visibly wincing from the agony. Fingers grasped the gold-clad wrist, holding it tightly while he boasted her arrogance. There was nothing but truth in the words, that much she continued to show him. Even barely considered among the living and the woman was relentless in her defiance. She knew it would only frustrate him more, drive him closer to the edge. She may have been a lost soul, but she was doing everything she could to guarantee he would end up in the same manner.

His eyes averted to the strange markings on her wrist, though her body was painted in numerous tattoos. Each one had signified a point in her life or was a direct reference to the woman herself. The stars couldn't have been a common constellation, their points on the map of her skin were too precise, yet random, to be anything but unique. The weight of her arm rested in his hands, making no move to remove it. Instead, she let him marvel at the fine work.

Her eyes drifted to the same series of inked points, admiring the way they glittered across her sun-kissed skin. The smirk remained on her face, giving no implication to what he had found. There was a triumph plastered in the grin, though he never could have guessed her thoughts. He questioned her, expecting her to find the voice to answer. In a tone so small it was barely audible, she gave him her reply: "stars are locations in the great map of the sky. This is the map of my life from birth until now."

Eve was uncertain as to whether he could hear her, but she felt her lips moving. Ah, at last at last, he had found the map to his beloved treasure! How simple it would seem to tattoo it to her wrist, but she knew well that no one could decipher it except for her. The words she had spoken were true: the treasure map and her life had greatly coincided. Like him, she had sought it out. Unlike him, however, she had been successful in finding it.
 
Morgan studied the pattern of her wrist, eying the stars and lines that crossed it in a way that seemed perfectly planned and yet escaping in meaning. He reached for one of Eve's many knives, cutting free the bonds on that wrist so he could better study it, letting the broken woman rest for the time being as his attentions were captured by this knew goal.

Could this be it? It would have been very much like Eve to brand such a powerful map onto her own body. The perfect hiding place, always with her and easily overlooked. It had not even occurred to Morgan until he had gotten a better chance to look at her arm.

His fingers traced each star marking, the constellations calling to him but just out of his memories grasp. It was definitely a star chart of some kind, but the way it was written left its purpose maddeningly impossible to obtain. Scowling he twisted her arm so she could see it with her own eyes, his grip on her tight.

"Explain this to me. Where does it lead?"
 
The bonds cut free, the total dead weight of her arm was piled into his grasp, the woman both unable and unwilling to control her own muscles. Her wrist was bent, fingers flexed backward toward the bed. If Eve had been Bloody Evie in that moment, the second he had reached for the knife would have been the one she had seized to strike against him. Her quick reflexes would have reacted, twisting her limber arm around to grasp the dagger from his grips. He may have moved in time to be spared from death, but she was certain she would have added another crimson wound to his slashed skin. As it were, though, she made no motions to do anything but rest.

His cold fingertips traced over the only part of her body that did not burn from abuse. Her puzzle perplexed him, giving her some satisfaction. He may eventually realize it was the map he had been seeking, but he would need her alive and willing to give him the true locations for each point. As it stood, though, it would all be in vain. There was nothing more he could do to convince her to tell him, to let him win the ultimate battle. Even as a broken woman with only mere traces of the pirate left in her form, she would not surrender to him.

Her arm was thrust back into her face, the stars smiling at her from across the stretch of skin. "My destiny." She answered, no hint of deceit in her voice. "They are numbered in sequence to represent my life. You see the first point? That is my childhood." She wrenched her arm free from his tight grasp, bringing it up so her bound one could touch it. Her fingertips fell on the first point, tracing around each one all the way to the last one. Tapping it twice, she showed it to him. "This is where it ends. You're on this chart, too. You've always been destined to be a part of my fate. Our battle was planned from the beginning." Evie may have sounded like a voodoo witch at the moment, but her words were true on a deeper level. The first point had represented her childhood, but the part she didn't divulge was that it was actually the true point of origin, the beginning of the map that started in her native port.
 
Morris scowled at her explanation, trying to see the pattern on her skin, trying to understand the mystery behind the ink. She spoke in riddles, something he could never stand. He used deception as much as the next pirate in his plots, but he always preferred direct action. He watched her tap her skin, talking of childhood, destiny, of the end. Finding this mark had only given him another puzzle to solve and he was not even sure it was the map.

And her talk of destiny, of their battle being planned already, only served to invoke his anger. "Destiny had no hold over me," he growled at her. "I alone decide my fate. It was I alone who tracked you down. It was I alone who led the battle to your ships capture. I was I alone who broke you, Bloody Evie, and fucked your ass. I alone, without fate or destiny by my side." He refused to believe and superstitious nonsense that his struggle from childhood, all the hardships and suffering, all the murder and thievery, was planned out.

"Tell me the answer," he gave her an ultimatum. "Either tell me the key to this map or I shall throw you to my crew for their own pleasure. Do not tempt me woman!"
 
Most pirates were egotistical enough to believe they were in charge of their own paths, even though they all counted on the stars to navigate them across the compass points of the world. As arrogant as Bloody Evie was, she held fate accountable for nearly everything that had happened in her life. It had intervened into the life of a child to make her both poised and calculating. It manipulated her into marauding the seas for years, terrorizing all who met her. She was a woman, a creature of perfect femininity who mirrored grace; she was not born to be as intimidating as she was. In their world, men submitted to no woman, yet they all cowered before her.

"Yes, you alone made those decisions, but why?" She asked him, her voice regaining some of its bold tone. "What steered you toward me, Morris? My treasure, but what twisted its way into my life to get me to this supposed land of gold and booty?" She was intentionally trying to distract him, to confuse him beyond belief. It was just a mind game, a tactic for weakening him. "Yes, you did bind me and force yourself upon me, but it was without a doubt the worst fuck I've ever had." The fire in her eyes was returning, practically dancing across her brilliant orbs.

"I've told you about this mark of ink. I don't know what else you wish to know. This-" she paused, raising her arm back to his face- "is my life. If you're too incompetent to understand that, it's not my fault. I was not meant to teach the simple-minded." Her lips curled, her smile dangerous. "Go ahead, throw me to your men. I'll slaughter them all, you know I will. You know neither one of us had ever met our matches before our paths crossed."
 
Morris struck her again across the face. He would soon carry her facial imprint on the back of his hand if he kept this up, though so far it hadn't done much to change her tune. Morris had had enough. So she wanted to mock him? Play games? He would show her how serious he was. He would show her what it meant to cross him.

"I'll make a whore out of you," he snarled. His hand wrapped around the nearest blade it could fine, on of her own finely crafted swords no doubt taken from a wealthy Spanish Naval Captain. He brought it down over her head and sliced her bindings free, a hairs width from cutting her hand. Grabbing her by the hair he lifted her from the bed, pressing the weapon to her throat and smirking like the devil himself.

"I'll have the story spread to every island in these waters. 'Bloody Evie', the terror of the seas fucked by every pirate of Morris's crew. We'll see how your reputation fares you then my dear." Dragging her forward towards the door he called out for his crew, the men dropping their tasks at hand at the sound of their Captain.
 
Eve had barely finished her sentence before his hand struck across her face. Mouth still in motion, her teeth clamped down on her tongue. Blood filled her mouth, the dark liquid pooling at the corner of her mouth and trailing down her velvet lips. Her jaw creaked again, the pain gripping the bones.

"You won't!" She threw back at him, though she believed he just may. "You won't because you want me all to yourself. Face it, Morris, you're intrigued by me. Do you really think they are worthy of me? You'll be green with envy!" She screamed out, trying to throw him off his intentions. His hand was reaching for another sword, drawing it above her. For a moment, she thought he was going to slash off her hand, but his aim was good enough to cut away the bindings. Hands went into her auburn waves, snatching her up by the roots of her hair.

Pulled to her feet, her knees buckled once as the weight settled. The hands in her hair caught her, the unbearable pain forcing her to stand up. The blade was pressed to her neck, though it didn't matter. It was obvious what he had done to her, her backside was smooth while the front was red and puffy from whelps cutting across her flesh. She moved in front of him toward the door, her naked abused body on display. "You won't do it, Morris. You want me all to yourself."
 
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