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The Virgin Prize [Prince & LingeringDesire]

Dark Prince

Dark Prince

Star
Joined
Oct 17, 2012
Location
Xanadu
Philippe Vallette inhaled deeply as he stood on the deck of the rocking brigantine. The air was full of the smell of recent battle, a medley of pistol smoke, acrid gunpowder, fresh blood, burning wood, and, over it all, the salt of the sea. The smell of victory, at least for today. The tall, lanky and rather scruffy man was still panting from exertion, perspiration pouring freely down his face as he pushed back his long, tousled, and sweat-slicked black hair. The hot, mid-day Caribbean sun was a cruel spectator and he longed for a drink. His choice of clothing didn't help with the heat, knee high black leather boots, thick dark trousers, and a loosely tucked and billowing white, long sleeve shirt, half-unbuttoned down his chest. He had an image to maintain as Captain and, although he envied his shirtless crew that were clad in just shorts, he knew he cut a striking figure.

"Har har! To our victory!" Philippe shouted in exultation, lifting his saber high and glaring at his crew as they rounded up the captured ship's remaining sailors. A throaty roar from his men answered his call, forcing Philippe to break into a smile. There was nothing sweeter than victory. Even now, exhausted and hot, adrenaline still coursed through his body and he felt invincible.

The smaller vessel's crew had fought them surprisingly hard. Two British marines had been onboard as well and Philippe was grateful the rocking sea had made their already inaccurate musket rifles miss as his men had grappled and then boarded their prize. Most ships of this size surrendered without a shot once they realized Philippe's three masted schooner was faster and better armed. It'd taken the death of the marines and three of their sailers before the smaller crew had begged for mercy, unfortunately at the cost of two of Philippe's more reliable men.

"Bonjour," said Philippe as he swaggered toward the Captain, who sat propped against the mainmast holding his bloody shoulder. The older man had taken a pistol round and, while pale, Philippe believed would likely live. The Captain's bushy, white eyebrows rose as he heard Philippe speak. Using French was Phillipe's 'trademark' as a pirate and had earned him the nickname of the Fearless Frenchman, or Frenchie when out of his earshot. "Your ship is mine. Now pray tell, what precious cargo do you carry that would warrant marines and such a fight against bad odds?"

"Go to hell, fuckin' frenchie!" snarled the Captain, wincing at the pain his outburst caused him.

"I'll see you there, no doubt, and soon enough," Philippe replied, flicking his saber at man's face, forcing a flinch before averting the blow and knocking the injured man's tricorn hat off instead. "Well, we'll find out anyway. Breezy, search the hold. I'll look in the Captain's quarters."

Breezy was Philippe's first mate, a veteran pirate and the only member of his crew that Philippe truly trusted. The lumbering, thickly set and heavily tattooed man gathered a handful of pirates and started to climb down into the cargo hold, a pistol ready. Philippe took a moment to reload his own pistol before walking to the door to the Captain's quarters below the aft deck. It was, of course, locked. Rather than search the Captain for a key that he had no doubt already thrown into the ocean, Philippe snarled and raised his boot. Using all the force he could muster from his strong frame, he gave the stout wooden door a hard stomp right by its handle and burst it open in an explosion of splinters.

"Now let's see what delicious prize you are hiding in here..." the pirate murmured, sword and pistol at the ready as he crept into the dark room.
 
The captain screamed profanities outside his room at his men, the whole crew it seemed rushed about while Emme woke to turmoil. She rubbed her blue eyes slowly and wondered what was going on. She pulled open the door to the captains quarters after pulling on her robe. "Good morning..." The door was jerked out of her grip and slammed in her face by one of the two guards watching her.

Huffing indignantly she jerked it open and pushed in front of it, "Just because your morning..." She trailed off watching the men scurry about and preparing. For what, she didn't know. Glancing at the men, they ignored her. "what's going on?" She watched with alert curiosity as the seamen loaded a canon and fired. The sound causing her hands to lift and cover her ears.

The captain rounded the bend and screamed, "What is she doing out here... lock her in there... tell her to hide." Glaring at the marines he pushed forward and shoved her back in the room while clicking his tongue. "Hide my lady, and may god save you!"

With that he pushed her in and then slammed the door. She fell back onto her rump, flailing. "No... Captain!" CLICK. The door locked into place and she heard him giving more orders. What were they hiding from? Curious, Emmeline swung open the small shutter on the side. The large boat that greeted her vision caused her breath to catch. Flying overhead...

"The jolly roger..." She whispered to herself at the crimson flag that fluttered in the early morning sea breeze. She slammed the shutter closed and promptly mused the bed and stuffed it so it looked like someone was beneath the covers. She locked all the shutters and pulled the curtains to darken the interior, it was still early but getting lighter. Emme tucked herself away in the tall wardrobe full of frilly clothing and waited.

--

Emmeline Louise Fortner, Emme to her friends, stood at a modest 5 feet 7 inches in height. Her long dark hair was normally curled and typically pinned back, today it hung loose. She was the daughter of the appointed governor of, what he called hell. All she knew was that her father was wealthy and he did as he was told, their home was now in the Caribbean. She was coming home after a summer with her cousins in Charleston. A girl had to be seen if she was to be married off, the proposals and propositions had come pouring in.

This had been her routine of the past two summers, before her father had chosen a man that complimented his daughter and made him even richer. Charles WInthrop the third. She'd met him once and wasn't impressed, but they had been children, now he was supposedly a man. This would be her last time in the Caribbean and she meant to make the most of it before her spring wedding. Her chaperone and mother became ill on the day they were to leave so she was sent alone on the ship with the two guards, her mother and chaperone, a close family friend, would be arriving later on before fall had fully hit.

So here she was, on a boat full of men and they were under attack.

--

Her heart raced as the fighting silenced, random shouts and curses could be heard as the men were interrogated. She knew they had been captured or the pirates ran off, she wasn't sure but she stayed put. Thick heavy steps could be heard before the door to the room, she pulled the doors closed a bit more on the wardrobe and covered herself with the clothing. clamping a hand over her mouth as the door burst open, her body began to quake and her nerves caused her to fidget.

A deep voice spoke softly about a delicious prize, her heart thundered and she remained quiet in her little cage. From her spot she could watch him walk around the dark bed, she clamped her eyes shut while he searched. His footfalls were heavy While he searched along the back wall she crept out of the wardrobe and slid under the bed. He'd already checked there, so it was safe. She lay flat on her stomach under the bolted down bed. The only problem was in her haste she didn't close the doors of the wardrobe. A precarious rock caused the doors she held to creak open loudly.

Holding her breath she lay there, his steps vibrating her stomach against the floorboards. A loud thump of his boot right next to her head caused her to panic. However, in the next instant she heard loud cries coming from below, they'd found her father's money, the strong drinks and the trunks of dresses. Closing her eyes tightly shut she sent up silent prayers that the cries of the crew would pull him from his own monumental discoveries. One could hope, right?
 
Philippe knew the Captain's quarters always held something valuable and had made it his privilege to be the first to search in that room when his crew had seized a prize ship. His men couldn't be trusted with small items, like jewelry and coins, nor did they respect the more cultured items Philippe also liked to acquire, like art, books, maps, letters, spy glasses and gentleman's grooming tools. Despite his penchant for fancy dress and affection of speaking French, Philippe was a Pirate Captain and liked to study the decor of the typically more cultured Captains that he captured in order to imitate them, or at least make his own quarters look more respectable to the very uncultured seaman and whores that he might entertain.

Although this Captain commanded a small, two-masted brigandine, normally plying coastal routes off the Carolinas based on its flag, the man's room was quite spacious and very well appointed. Philippe first made sure there was no one visible as his eyes adjusted to the dim space and then he began a careful inspection, eyes and body drawn magnetically to the framed oil painting above a massive and beautiful mahogany desk. The painting would definitely come, a Venus on the half shell scene with a nautical theme Philippe liked and a naked woman that he liked even better. The desk was also quite nice and very imposing. Furniture was unfortunately always bolted down and Philippe was distracted momentarily trying to gauge whether it would be worth it to pry the desk free and move it.

A creaking noise made him spin, sword up to slash, and he noticed the wardrobe door swinging. He hadn't checked in there yet, deeming it too small to hide a man, but given his love of fine clothes it had been on his list. Strange, the door had seemed closed when he entered. On a ship, anything not latched would naturally swing and it was odd that the wardrobe door was just now moving.

Philippe's eyes went back to the Captain's bed and the lump in his sheets. He'd dismissed it as not a person at first glance, but now he wondered if someone had tried to wrap pillows in a pathetic attempt to trick an invader. Striding to the bed, Philippe was studying the sheets and noticed that a woman's handkerchief, pink and floral was mixed in with the blankets and pillows. He lifted it on the point of his sword to study, catching the delicate aroma of fresh perfume lingering on it.

Either the Captain fancied woman's accessories and perfume, not unheard of when at sea for long periods of time, or there was a woman onboard.

Cries from below made Philippe turn. His crew had found some valuable cargo and his natural urge was to race out and inspect it himself, but the pink cloth fluttering on his sword made him pause again. The bed was raised and its satin bedskirt dangled down almost to the dark, polished wood floor. Enough height for a man to slide under, and definitely room for a woman. Perhaps...

Philippe took a step back and a smug smile grew on his face.

"Come out mon cheri," he said in a sweet voice. "Hide and seek is over. Come out before I thrust my sword under the bed to make sure no one is there."

To emphasize his last statement, Philippe thrust the point of his saber into the wood floor by the edge of the bedskirt.
 
The actions he went through caused her to pause, he was just now looking over the bed. She was in a good spot, she thought. Then he paused, as if seeing something. She listened to him, holding her breath. She waited for him to run, to go and see. Anything but stay there.

"Fuck," she thought, eyes wide. She could cuss like a sailor but the words could not cross her dainty lips. Only once when she was much younger, even then she'd been reprimanded. She was no fool and would not come out on the side he was on. If she could sneak out the other side away from him, she could still have a chance.

As his sword was thrust into the floor she spurred into action, slowly, quietly she slid out onto the floor on the opposite side of the bed. Emme lay there quietly waiting for him to act and shove his sword under the bed. That action would give her enough time to scurry under the desk. All she had to do was wait a bit.

Emme heard nothing and slowly rose up onto her knees and then looked over the bed. There was nothing. Had she imagined him? She stood and looked and still saw nothing, turning ever so slightly she saw him, next to her. Grasping her gown she opened her mouth and let out a blood curdling scream. She tripped over the desk chair and rolled over the top of the desk.

At least she'd landed on her ass, so the fall didn't hurt. but she had no time to wallow in self pity or mourn her fall. She jumped to her feet and picked up the nearest item to defend herself with. A quill. The feathered end shook as her hand raised it, pointing the metal tip at him. Her other hand searched frantically for something else.

Pulling a drawer open her hand closed about something else. Lifting it she smiled, until she saw what it was. A ruler. "Stay back... or I'll... I'll hit you!" She said boldly, swishing the ruler through the air. Her long nightgown tangling around her bare legs in a frilly display of femininity. Her robe hung open, the skin along her neck and collar appearing pale and dainty.
 
Philippe had circled quietly around the bed after he stabbed his sword down, knowing the sudden act might flush his prey from hiding. He had left his sword upright in the floor, but still had his pistol for the slim chance it was an armed man instead of a helpless woman, or the even slimmer chance the woman was armed!

To his delight, a black haired and very female head poked out from under the bed and a quite nubile and tender body slithered out following it. The woman, or perhaps girl, was clad in a robe and what looked like a sleeping gown. The clothes rode high as she lay on the floor, exposing her legs from the knee down and giving Philippe an eyeful of her lily white skin. She lay tensely beside the bed, clearly distraught and trying not to make a noise, and delightfully unaware of the leering pirate behind her.

Philippe said nothing as she quietly rose to her knees to risk peering over the high bed. The view of her profile made his leer turn into a grin. She was very attractive and young, with refined and well bred features. Some rich daughter or Southern Belle no doubt. He watched as she stood, enjoying seeing a perplexed expression spread across her face, that cute nose wrinkling as her mouth gaped in surprise. Just when he was about to say something, she turned and saw him standing right beside her.

A grinning pirate holding a pistol was evidently not a reassuring sight, but even Philippe was surprised at the strength of the girl's reaction. Sure his smile was a bit smug, and he had given her a little wink, but was he really that scary? The cry was ear piercing and he knew his men would come quickly to investigate. Not that they were worried about Philippe, but because that very female scream was like a siren song to a crew of horny pirates! Then he could only chuckle as she fell over the chair and landed with little dignity on the desk. Her legs thrashed as she righted herself, displaying more delicious flashes of her white skin. And finally, her fumbled attempts to find a weapon were enough to break Philippe's composure and leave him outright laughing as the young woman pointed a ruler at him threateningly.

Even like this, frightened, robe in disarray, and trying to defend herself with a cartographer's tool, Philippe couldn't deny her beauty. The shockingly blue eyes were wide in fright and made a stunning contrast to the lustrous black hair which hung in tousled waves around her face. And what a beguiling face that was, unblemished porcelain white skin, high cheekbones and delicate features, and a sweet and luscious set of full, pink lips that surely needed a kiss. Picking up the color of her lips, her fair skin darkened on her cheeks into twin rosy spots as she flushed with emotion. Young, but not too young for his needs. It was, in all, a delectable sight and made Philippe momentarily reflective as he considered his good fortune.

The Captain was hiding a prize indeed.

"En garde!" Philippe cried, falling into an exaggerated fencer's stance with his pistol hand high and behind him. Without a sword, he shuffled forward towards the quaking girl until he was able to grab her wrist and twist it up, pulling her body close to his and forcing the ruler from her hand. She was almost pressed against him now, his larger frame towering above her as he stared down into those big blue eyes and gave her a wink. "Alas, you have been disarmed."

"Cap'n! You need help!" came the cry of the first of his men, swinging open the broken door and peering into the dark room. Behind him, other men crowded, eager to get a glimpse of a woman. "'As he got a lass in 'dere? Wuz'at a lady screaming? Is he givin' 'er a poke wit 'is sword, if you know wat I mean?! You mean 'ees fuckin' her!?"

"Back! Shut the door lads, I'll bring her out for all to see in a bit," yelled Philippe, not bothering to even look at them as he kept his eyes on the beauty in front of him. There were grumbled complaints, but he heard the door swing shut. "My apologies, but my crew can be a bit vulgar. I am Captain Philippe. And you are Miss....?"

Releasing her hand, Philippe strode around to recover his sword and rested it on his shoulder as he eyed her. A girl like this was a pirate's dream, yes, but Philippe had a little more self-restraint, barely perhaps, than most pirates. He also knew her value in gold might be higher than the pleasure he and his crew could have with her, depending on how rich her family was. She was no common floozy, that was for sure. While his pirate peers might just ravish her here and enjoy the spoils of victory while fresh, especially a prize this sweet, Philippe knew he'd have plenty of time tonight to sample the treats the girl barely hid in her thin nightclothes at a more leisurely pace. He enjoyed his woman like he enjoyed a fine meal, slowly and savoring every morsel to its fullest. And plenty of time after he'd have his fun to figure out if she might be worth even more to him as ransom.

"Now come on, don't be scared. Onto the deck with you. I'm moving all my booty to my ship and the lads won't touch you unless I tell them to," he said in a casual tone, using his head to gesture for her to walk to the door.
 
Emmeline was glad for the distraction of the men and used the opportunity to wiggle and try to be loose of his grip but it was of no use. Her free hand still held the quill, what was she going to do... tickle him. She promptly dropped the thing to the floor, not wishing to encourage him any further. His men fawned at the door, trying to see into the dark room and get a better look at her. Thankfully she was hid beyond him in his shadow and they could only see her nightgown and robe, and even then it was only a whisper of the woman she was.

When he released her wrist, she began rubbing it as though he'd shackled her hard. Looking at him , she wasn't about to give her name, "Obviously I'm miss captive," she chimed in dryly. She pulled her robe about her tighter, as if hiding her from him. She didn't like the gleam in his eye, it was dangerous... even if he was a bit handsome.

"Scared... of what, you? Ha, don't think to highly of yourself, Captain." She sneered, grasping the edges of her robe tighter. "NO!" She stamped her bare foot on the wooden boards. "I'm not leaving this room without being properly dressed. I doubt that would quell your men's appetite to have me running about half dressed! No, sir." She turned with a swish of her gown and robe and moved to the wardrobe she'd first hid in.

Her fingers slowly moved over the fabrics, it would be a bit cooler out so a thicker fabric would do nicely. Besides, the higher collar would offer her a bit more decency. Pleased with her choice she laid it out on the bed and picked out the matching undergarments and things that ladies wore. Giving him a poignant look she spun her finger at him, "Turn around please." Her words and actions went ignored.

Another indignant huff had her spinning her back to him and dropping the robe. She pulled her arms into the thin gown and maneuvered her chemise into place before removing it, her short bloomers hid the rest of her from him. Her corset was pulled on and adjusted with a tug of the strings. already she had curves, but the corset pushed her bosoms up nicely. She slid on a silky cream colored sheer under dress and pulled the maroon dress into place after that. A few gold buttons were done and then she was pulling on a hooded cloak.

Emmeline brushed her hair back and pulled it back with a set of mother of pearl combs on either side of her head. "Now I am properly dressed to go on deck." She smiled at him and tilted her head. Eyeing him, she moved to go around him and head out on deck.
 
Philippe watched the girl's theatrics with an amused grin. Spoiled, petulant and even delusional were the words that popped in his head based on her behavior. Surely she didn't understand the gravity of the moment? She had been captured by pirates! There were thirty, depraved, horny and criminal men lurking outside the door that only were held at bay by Philippe's word. In a way, her naivete was endearing to the hardened Captain. He'd seen almost everything in his time as a pirate, begging, pleading, anger, fear, shock, denial and fainting -- lots of fainting. But he'd never seen a girl try to treat him like some sort of misbehaving manservant!

"Get dressed quickly, or I'll do it for you," he growled, sword tapping lightly on his shoulder as she sputtered her protestations.

Her demand that he turn around and not watch made him raise an eyebrow in surprise. It was so ridiculous he was momentarily taken aback.

"I need to keep my eye on my prisoner," Philippe said, emphasizing her status as she turned and began to disrobe. To his disappointment, the girl was amazing adept at changing before his eyes without revealing too much of what lay beneath. What he saw was delicious, however. Slipping out of her chemise left her naked except for her bloomers, which went down to mid-thigh. Although she was turned away from him, the creamy, pale expanse of her back was a sensual sight. All flawless skin, subtly rippling muscles and finally a very tempting, firm and rounded rear poorly hidden in those silly bloomers. All too soon she was pulling her corset on, followed by a sheer underdress, and then finally the maroon, heavy and high necked outer gown. To Philippe's amazement, the dressing didn't stop there as she fastened a hooded cloak on top of everything! It was an absurd statement, her dress on a hot Caribbean day like today, and he regarded her with a dangerous grin.

"Mademoiselle... captive," Philippe said, sidling close to her as he sheathed his saber and tucked his pistol into his waistband. Eying her critically, he placed his hand on the grip of long knife he kept tucked on his hip. "While I admire your sense of decorum... I need to remind you of a few, very important facts."

One of Philippe's hands shot out and grabbed the girl by her upper arm while the other whipped his knife out. Fast as a snake, that sharpened tool slit her cloak's clasp, causing it to fall in a bundle at her feet.

"First, you are my prisoner. A pirate's prisoner."

The knife flicked again, this time parting the maroon outer dress's high neck, point touching her delicate skin as it slide down and cut through the buttons. He ripped a gash down to below her breast through the outer dress and the cream inner dress, letting her pushed up cleavage from her corset burst into sight.

"It's very hot out, and I can't have my prisoner's die of heat exhaustion."

The knife plunged into the fabric by her shoulders as he cut her sleeves off one after the other, leaving her arms bare.

"I'm not someone to trifle with."

Then he grabbed a handful of her gown, just above the knees, and stabbed into it with the knife while turning her in a circle like a top. The sharp blade cut the two layers of fabric off smoothly, dropping the bottom half of her dresses into a hoop at her feet.

"Now, that's much better tailoring. You look presentable to my lads finally. Although I still think the gown is too hot and we may have to take that off later," said Philippe with a mock bow. The idea of this beautiful a creature all bundled up to the point of looking like an old maid was unthinkable! Cut up like this, she at least did a better job presenting her womanly charms, although the though of her in just the thinner under dress was even more delectable.

"Now - out with you to the main deck before I cut more than your clothes!" he said with a stern frown. "I'm looking forward to the Captain sharing your true identity."
 
Emme tipped her head at him as he spoke the name she gave him, but she didn't like the look of the grin that crossed his lips. At least his weapons were put away for the moment, and she was sufficiently covered. She watched his hands and growled when he grasped her upper arm. Eyes widened as he cut the clasp to her cloak away. "Putrid pirate, I'm hardly a sufficient captive... merely a prisoner passed from one dinghy to the next. Ha! Prisoner indeed..." As if she was going to give away her name, station or anything pertinent to THIS fool.

"You wouldn't dare..." She shrieked as he flicked the knife and drug it along the expensive dress. Cutting it away and exposing her creamy flesh for all to see. Emme thought she might as well have been naked for the amount of flesh he exposed. She let him play tailor for the moment... biding the time until he loosed her from his hard grip.

Emmeline turned her bright blue eyes to the mess of fabric left on the floor of the captains cabin. She stomped her foot in rage. Her raven locks falling from the combs as she huffed. "How dare you ruin MY dress, you filthy man." She reared her hand back and slapped at him, not truly aiming and her hand making contact with his muscular upper arm. "NO... I am no harlot and shall not be seen like this!"

Dropping she picked up some of the nearly sheer and body obscuring under dress bits on the floor. tucking pieces here and there she made a pair of short sleeves and a ruffle that obscured her breasts from being on display by tucking some fabric into her corset. "I dare thee to cut more than my clothes... I'd rather die than be seen with the likes of you and your pitiful men!"

"Besides the captain hasn't a clue who I am either... a simple captive of this vessel, same as I shall be for yours..." She smirked and stomped out on to the upper deck. He didn't scare her, with his sword and his threats. After all, her father would rescue her before the day was out or well, as soon as word got back to him that the vessel she was on had been under siege. Slim fingers worked to set to rights her tresses as the men gawked at her.

Frowning at the captain tied to the mast she jerked her head this was and that, to keep tabs on the men that looked her over like a prize winning heifer at the stockades. Her fiance wouldn't stand for this either, his own ship was docked in Charleston and then he'd be joining his betrothed and her family for the winter in the Caribbean. Then they would arrive back to Charleston and marry the following spring. It was all set in stone and she would stand for nothing less.

"Emmeline Fortner... daughter to Governor Fortner of St. Masses of the Caribbean Isles." the captain spewed out, when asked. "I'm sorry my lady, but my head is important to me. Please... Set me free and I'll carry whatever message you wish the Governor to receive."
 
"It's not death you should be scared of, my lads wouldn't let a nice girl like yourself go to waste in Davy Jones' locker" growled Philippe, reaching forward and giving the girl's petite rear a firm slap with his hand to urge her out the door. He let the girl's pathetic attempts at re-tailoring her dress remain intact, the shredded bits of cloth she had tucked into the shortened remains of her dress did little to hide the goods on the display and made her modesty and embarrassment at the situation even more obvious to an onlooker.

Her arrival on the maindeck was greeted with a lusty chorus of cheers and cries from Philippe's sweaty and victorious crew of men. Even the sailors from the captured ship couldn't help but ogle the now provocatively clad lady that had no doubt strained their propriety during their voyage from the Carolinas. Thirty men were issuing catcalls and entreaties now, begging Philippe to let the crew have some fun with the lass. Some men even offered up their share of the plunder for a taste!

"Harr, let's get her to do a dance for the lads!"
"Cap'n, I'll trade my share for a night with her to myself!"
"Why'd you put clothes on her? All the girls on our ship go naked Cap'n!"
"Let the lads break her in for you Cap'n! She'll be no fun as a virgin!"
"Look at the apples she's hiding under that dress... show 'em to us, Cap'n!"

The litany continued until Philippe raised his hand and motioned for silence with a wry smile. If this lusty reception wasn't enough to make the poor girl aware of her plight, Philippe wondered if there was anything more he could do to crack the protective shell of coddling that seemed to make the girl think she wasn't a captured girl at risk of being turned into a Pirate crew's personal harlot.

"Enough!" cried out Philippe as the cries waned. "Back to the looting lads, I want this ship stripped of anything of value with the next turn of the hourglass. The girl is my prisoner until we know what value we can get beyond what is between her legs."

"Now Captain, if you don't tell me who she is you'll lose your head and one of your crew will gladly supply the same information," said Philippe menacingly, drawing his sword and grabbing the girl by one of her slender arms and holding her tight next to him.

The Captain's admission made Philippe's jaw drop and he was speechless for a second. Her Father was the Royal Governor of Trinidad and through that British base of power, most of the Western Caribbean. As the primary enforcer of laws and protector of the peace, he was also Philippe and every other pirate's chief enemy.

And Philippe had his daughter.

"Well, well, well, I see we have a true prize indeed," Philippe said as a grin reappeared on his face. The longhaired pirate looked happy, but his pulse quickened and he felt his heart race. She was a dangerous prize to keep indeed. The Governor would spare no expense in finding her and Philippe would likely find no safe harbor in any country in the world from the wrath of the British Empire if something happened to her. Already a notorious and wanted man, Philippe might find a bounty on his head large enough to make his own crew start to think about double crossing him. Ransoming her was going to be tricky, lucrative, but very tricky.

For a second Philippe had a moment of weakness and entertained leaving Emmeline with the Captain and sailing away, hoping the Governor would appreciate the gesture if Philippe ever needed a favor in the future. With as snort, Philippe dismissed that thought. He was a pirate, not a cowardly street thief. The girl was a prize that might make him rich and famous, enough money even for retirement with his legend echoing in these warm waters for generations to come.

If he could pull it off that is.

"Captain, tell the Governor that the Fearless Frenchman has his daughter and if he wants her back alive and in relatively unharmed condition, he'll have to propose a Princess' ransom as befits her status," said Philippe as he crouched low to talk quietly with the injured man. "I'll let your ship limp into port and have him pass word through the Drunk Shark's bartender. I'll have an emissary make inquiries in one week's time."

"Aye, Frenchie," replied the Captain, wincing at the pain just talking caused in his shoulder. He glanced at Emmeline worriedly and gave her a smile of encouragement and then turned to Philippe. "But you should know, she's to be married and her fiancee is arriving after her in town for their wedding. The son of an important and wealthy family in the Carolinas. If she is returned unharmed, and still a maiden, her father will be most generous in his ransom I believe. Leaving her unspoiled is very important to him to ensure this lucrative union he has brokered."

The Captain's voice dropped so only Philippe could hear.

"He cares little for the girl beyond his image and her value in marriage. The Governor is a mean bastard and if you damage his brokered betrothal and the trade money it will generate, you'll get a lower price and likely make getting your head in a noose his personal mission. Mark my words, he wants her to seal this marriage and she needs to be a virgin!"

"Understood, mon amis," replied Philippe coolly and he pondered the news for a moment. Perhaps there was a ransom that might be worth more than gold he could extract with this unique opportunity. Pitching his voice low, he whispered back to the Captain so Emmeline or his crew could not hear, "Then you tell the Governor if he wants the girl a maiden still, the ransom better be worth a virgin's honor. How about a reward that would restore my own innocence. Tell him I want a full pardon for past crimes. All crimes and irrevocable forever. Tell him to keep this clause quiet when he replies, but let me know in some fashion that he agrees."

It would be a sweet reward indeed for Philippe to exit his pirating career with plenty of money and the freedom to spend it without fear of being captured and killed for his past crimes. Though aggressive as an ask, it was not without precedent. Many former pirates had negotiated pardons in return for working for the Crown as privateers, or just for agreeing to go away and stop being a nuisance. Few had the discipline to not slip into their old ways and wind up caught for fresh crimes, but Philippe knew he was smarter than most of his brethren.

Philippe rose and turned to address Breezy. "Strip the ship. Cut down the mainsail and let them limp home. It should take them at least three days to get to port and we'll be safely hidden awaiting our captive's ransom offer."

Philippe turned to Emmeline and gave her a rakish grin.

"And now, my sweet Mademoiselle Fortner, let's adjourn to my chambers where we will have ample time to get well acquainted."
 
Emmeline snarled at his slap, of all the insufferable men she'd met, HE was the worst. Keeping her head high, she ignored the comments of the men. Doubting the captain would do any of the things the men suggested around her once he found out WHO she was. She knew the orders given the man that captained her to the Caribbean, his entire family. He was only doing his job after all. Her lips curled into a frown, though they both knew it was all an act and each had their roles.

Steely blue eyes fell the Captain as the news came about. She almost gave him a haughty little smile, almost. She was rather pleased to see his jaw slack and agape. Good, she thought, THAT shut him up. She knew her father had clout and that she would be worth a lot more alive than dead. Though whatever happened to her, she felt she might be able to push it aside and go back to how it all once was.

The crew was silent too, before the admission of who she was, but now they all kind of stood there, mumbling to themselves and each other. Emme felt as though she could of jumped into the water and swam home at this rate, but alas, they recovered with the triumphant return of their leaders bravado. She sneered at him, his pleasure in all this was over exuberant and she wished him silent.

She watched him crouch to speak privately with the former Captain. Curious as to what could have been said on her behalf, she stepped closer. She glanced at the captain, returning his soft smile with a shake of her head. He was selling her to the shark and she was supposed to be happy about it? Eyes wide at the news he passed she stepped back blushing. Though, on second thought, perhaps that was to be her saving grace.

Silently she waited for them to hammer out the details, head still high and proud. A little more fearful than before. Soon he was standing and she was addressed, rolling her eyes at him and his foolish little grin.

She moved ahead of him, clamoring to the board that connected the two ships. Pantalets showed as she crawled up to it. Righting herself she walked across with no issue, hopping off the other side and stomping to his quarters. She'd have locked herself in if she thought it worth anything or he didn't have the key stowed away in a pocket.

Spinning to face him within she snarled, "I will NOT be growing more acquainted with the likes of you, you impudent mongrel. You know who I am and how I must be returned, you touch me and my fiancee will have your head on a platter." She lied through her teeth about her betrothed, knowing neither really cared for the other in such a way, but some lies were necessary. Besides that, she was worth revenge and she assumed Charles would agree."Charles loves me, the silly captain left out that part of things... any part of me that is touched will be removed similarly ... on your body."

Emme crossed her arms, only serving to press her breasts higher up and for the little scrap of fabric to flutter to the ground.
 
Philippe followed Emmeline across the gangplank, admiring her lithe figure as she crept across that narrow piece of wood with her hands outstretched for balance. That petite derriere was forced to stick out slightly for balance and the jaded pirate captain found himself licking his lips as he eyed it. Such a firm, round and tight little bottom. No doubt it would feel so good cupped in his palms and gently squeezed...

With a start, Philippe realized his baser instincts were taking over. If he wasn't careful, he would plunder Emmeline before he could control himself and quickly become the most wanted pirate in the Caribbean. No, he had to play his cards right on this one. It was going to be a tricky prize to hold, so tempting and desirable in her mix of petulant brattiness and maiden like innocence. The contrast of her with his crew of filthy, depraved and perpetually horny sailors alone was going to make her the object of every man's fantasy. Why couldn't he have captured an ordinary woman who could have better served as a ship harlot for a couple days?

Damn his 'good' luck sometimes.

Following her into his cabin, Philippe unconsciously inspected his decor to make sure it was in order. Not that he really wanted to impress this little wench, but she was reputedly a lady of high class and perhaps she might appreciate the tact and style with which he had decorated his own quarters. Artwork, maps, fine silk cloths, mismatched bits of high quality furniture and in the center of it all, his large and overstuffed bed with its red satin sheets and plush pillows. Idly, he wondered where she was going to sleep. Sharing the bed with her was going to be quite a temptation.

Suddenly, another bratty outburst stunned Philippe.

"I will NOT be growing more acquainted with the likes of you, you impudent mongrel. You know who I am and how I must be returned, you touch me and my fiancee will have your head on a platter."

Scowling, Philippe glared at her and then gave her his most roguish grin as he brushed back strands of his tousled black hair. "Another outburst like that and I'm going to bend you over my knee and spank you like the spoiled little girl you seem to be," the pirate captain growled at her, raising a hand menacingly.

"Charles loves me, the silly captain left out that part of things... any part of me that is touched will be removed similarly ... on your body."

That statement caused a chuckle from Philippe and he let his eyes go down her body very suggestively. Perhaps some reminder was due of her place on his ship and just how much power he held over her. Stepping forward, he took his raised hand and lowered it, placing it right on top of one of the two luscious breasts she so temptingly had highlighted when she crossed her arms under her. He gave the soft mound a gentle but quick squeeze, knowing she would like move away quickly once she recovered from the shock of his crass touch. It was doubtful the tart had ever had a man touch her in such a crude and direct fashion.

"Your fiancee can cut off anything he can find but he won't have much luck, for you should know the only parts of you I wish to touch are the ones that I don't have myself!" Philippe whispered to her in a husky tone, eyes twinkling. He followed her, forcing her backwards until she stumbled against a large chair by the dinner table. "Now enough with your games, I'll give you a spanking on the hour until your start behaving. Sit down and shut up!"

Philippe was exhausted suddenly, sweaty and thoroughly drained from battle now that the glow of victory had faded. He needed a rinse in some fresh water on the deck and a change of clothes. A break would be a good time for him to collect his thoughts on the girl as well. Keeping her safe from his own more base instincts, as well as his crew's, was going to be a challenge! Turning, he rummaged in his desk and produced a pair of leather manacles. Without pause, he spun and strode to Emmeline, grabbing her slender wrists and shackling them tightly. The cuffs had a large ring on the metal chain between them and he used a piece of line to tie the cuffs and the girl herself to the chair she sat on, wrapping the rope around her waist couple of times before knotting it thoroughly. She wouldn't be going anywhere soon, or nosing around his cabin, while trussed up like that.

"Now forgive me, but I must bathe. We'll have a nice dinner tonight to get acquainted, mon cheri," said Philippe as he began to strip in front of the young lady. First he pulled his white shirt off, revealing his muscular chest, the tanned skin darkened further by his manly black hair. Next he tugged his boots off, bending over and letting Emmeline get an eyeful of his powerful back, muscles rippling as he tugged the stubborn boots free. Then, with a knowing wink, he loosened his trouser ties and let the billowing black fabric fall. He had no skivvies on due to the heat and he took his time kicking out of the pants and letting his manhood dangle free before her eyes, swinging with every motion of his naked and toned body. If the girl was as sheltered as he suspected, Philippe knew the sight of a nude, virile, well endowed and handsome man before her would be quite a revelation. He was no smooth chested or slender boy, but a real man. Dangerous, strong and overwhelmingly masculine as he stood before her in the tight cabin. Assuming she had the guts to peek.

"Don't be shy, mon petite cheri, you'll have plenty of opportunity to see more later. It does get a lot bigger as well, you know, when it's time to play," joked Philippe, glancing down as his flaccid member. It was still rather impressive, even limp, and the sight of it hard right now might make the inexperienced girl faint. Grabbing a towel, Phillipe casually strode out of the cabin fully naked. He paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder to blow the girl a mock kiss and wiggled his much lighter skinned rear at her. It was the last sight the girl would see before he exited into the bright sunlight outside to rinse off on the deck.
 
Emme turned her face away from him, hating to watch as his eyes suggested the things he wanted to do to her were far from noble. However, his hand caused her to falter as he grabbed her breast. Her eyes shot to him but that was all she moved for a full minute, her hands batted his away, "How dare you soil me with such filth! Surely he can make up which he wishes to remove, Captain." She stumbled through her words as he backed her into a large wooden chair, the plush seat caressing her bum.

She glared at him, 'You wouldn't dare!' She seemed to say with her look, but her mouth was silent, for once. "No!" she gasped, seeing what he had pulled out when he spun. he was much to quick and her struggle was futile. As he wrapped line around her she felt his hand tracing her clothing a little too much. "Are you enjoying yourself?" She snarled at him. Huffing and writhing in her position she only caused her little cover ups to come out and her breasts to push up higher.

"No... no, no NO. N-not in here!" She exclaimed as he began stripping. She squeezed her blue eyes tightly shut, but it was to no avail. The silence of his undressing and the fact she couldn't defend herself if he came at her with her eyes closed. but to watch him would be wrong... she told herself even as her eyes opened and drug over his firm body, the hair she could comb her fingers through and the strong back she could pretend to feel under her hands. her eyes dropped lower, to his firm buttocks outlined perfectly in his breeches.

Swallowing hard she turned her eyes too look at something, anything else. Next, she heard the boots fall, one at a time they clunked to the wooden floor. Her eyes moved to his again, one of his winking at her, she licked her dry lower lip once as he pulled the fabric free. Stubbornly she gazed into his eyes, not daring to look elsewhere. But she couldn't help it, her blue gaze flitted lower to the dangling member between his legs.

Emmeline didn't blush, she simply gazed at him curiously. How could such a thing cause virgins to cry, she wondered. Having heard her maids and married cousins talk of it frequently. Her eyes moved over his strong legs and back up to his face as he spoke. Her brows furrowed at him, "You think me daft?" She questioned, not knowing what he meant but not letting on that she was lost. She scoffed as he kissed ht air at her and then wiggled his ass.

"Foolish imbecile!" She yelled after him, the door closing behind him. She didn't take a moment to ponder what he meant, she began moving her wrists and trying to get free. Though it seemed he had her locked up tight. "Oh god, father, please find me and soon... before this vile man has me doing things a lady ought not do..." She whimpered, allowing herself to cry for the first time since she'd been taken.
 
Once outside, Philippe was greeted with catcalls and whistles at his state of dress as his crew naturally assumed he'd already sampled his new captive's goods. Despite wanting a shower, he found himself getting caught up in helping his men plunder the captured ship. Clad only in his towel, he aided Breezy in sorting and sifting through the cargo and valuables, weighing in on what items to keep and what to discard. The vessel's hold had mostly been full of dyed cotton and wool cloth, which took up too much room to be worthwhile to try to resell, but they'd found some imported silk and other more expensive swaths of fabric tucked inside. Their ship's larders were restocked with barrels of salted beef, pork, vegetables and fresh fruit. Extra fresh water was moved onboard to replenish their store and every ounce of liquor that could be found was transferred to help sate his crew's insatiable thirst. Finally, all the small valuables, coins, jewelry and trade goods were gathered and wrapped in a tarp to divvy up after they cast away.

"Au revoir!" Philippe cried out, mock waving at the crippled ship as they hoisted their sails and disengaged. Turning to Breezy, he rubbed his stubbled chin and thought about where to sail next. There were dozens of seedy ports in the Caribbean that he could offload this booty at, but patrols were frequent and he rarely liked to visit the same town more than once a year to avoid setting habits. Port was the most dangerous time for a pirate captain. His crew would be drunk and chasing whores and his ship vulnerable if a British warship were to happen on the town. Plus, he always lost a few men to bar fights or rival ships. Mon Dieu he preferred the freedom of the sea to being tied up at a dock any day! "Set a tack to take us to Port Luis. That little shithole is far enough away from St. Masses that it'll be the last port they can check after they get the news."

Philippe pulled the cook aside and spent some time refining a menu for his dinner with Emmeline, taking full advantage of the fresh meat and vegetables they'd acquired from the ship they had captured in crafting what should be a delicious meal of roast beef tenderloin au jus, seasoned beets, spiced beans and a side of Spring carrots lightly stewed. He'd already claimed the best wines from the loot to pair for his feast and felt his stomach rumble in anticipation of the meal. And the lovely Emmeline herself could be his dessert, now that was a pleasant thought although he frowned at the annoying realization that he'd still need to restrain himself if he wanted his pardon. This was going to quite a test of his willpower!

The tall, lanky pirate dropped his towel and washed his muscled body on the deck with a couple buckets full of fresh water and a bar of perfumed soap. The sweat and grime of battle came off slowly and it took a lot of scrubbing before he felt like he looked presentable enough for dinner with a lady. The sun was starting to get lower off the port side by the time he was done and was suddenly eager to head back to his cabin to get dressed and check in on his beautiful captive. Emmeline was no doubt bored by now, forced to stew alone for almost two hours, and Philippe wondered if she might be more willing to be civil after time by herself to contemplate the gravity of her situation.

"I'm back, mon cheri!" Philippe cried out as he entered his cabin. He eyed the girl, flashed her a brilliant smile, and then dropped his towel to shamelessly displayed his nude form again to her once innocent eyes. He'd noticed her gaze upon him earlier, probably against her better judgment, and reckoned the girl might enjoy another show. A man's penis could be a fascinating sight for a woman unused to seeing it swing, bounce and dangle in counterpoint to the body's motions. Taking his time, he began to choose his outfit for dinner as he continued talking to the girl, acting as if having a conversation while fully nude was perfectly normal for him! Clean and scrubbed, she'd notice the patchwork of scars that webbed his tanned skin. Only the lily white flesh around his muscled rear was free of any marks and the knife wounds, sword cuts, whip lashes, musket shots and other assorted nicks told a visual tale of a man who had lived a violent and dangerous life. "My chef is preparing us quite a feast tonight. I believe you will enjoy it very much. I'm trying to choose my outfit. What do you think of red for my shirt? This satin one hasn't seen much use recently. I'm quite found of these blue silk pants, but do you think they are too baggy? Like my ass is drooping?"

After finally choosing his outfit, the red shirt paired with a tighter fitting set of black leather breeches, Philippe dressed himself before the girl and teasingly hid the masculine body that he had been flaunting before her since his return. Would she miss the sight?

"Don't worry, I'll let you see more later. Now, for you mon cheri, unfortunately I don't have much clothes for ladies...." said Philippe as he stepped over and untied the brunette girl. The manacles he hung on a hook for use later and he eyed her petite form appraisingly. The pirate had accumulated a small collection of risque dresses, made of nice material and tailored well, but designed for whores to wear. They all featured low cut necklines, high cuts on their legs and usually mid-thigh hemlines. Many had large swaths of lacy and nearly transparent fabric in their midsection. More problematic, most were for women with a larger bosom and frame than the petite Emmeline.

"Here, in this chest are some dresses I've saved for my lady companions. Let's have you model one or two that look like they may fit. Come now, don't sulk, it's time to get dressed for our feast."
 
After overcoming her moment of weakness she began pondering other things. HIM, for one and it scared her. She found herself attracted to the captain in a way she couldn't even fathom. Perhaps it was a passing moment of weakness or something about being tied to the chair and left alone with only her predicament and him to contemplate. Charles would probably be relieved that he didn't have to marry her, the swine bride as some called her because her father was so willing to part with her on price... like a good swine. It was revolting, though her bloodline was good and so was his so their children would be blessed with beauty and brains... she sighed.

Her mind could only dwell on the nude captain dancing about in her head, her thoughts returning to that and irritating her further. She attempted sleep but it didn't come, always going to some disturbing image of HIM. She felt sick to her stomach and realized it was probably because she was hungry. Having been woken from her slumber by the invasion and NOW, being isolated to the single room, bound to a chair by the hands of the captain. She wanted to scream, so she did. No one cared and no one came to her rescue.

she settled into her seat, anger brewing and calming then rebuilding. Her blue eyes turned to focus on the door as it swung open. Jaw set and temper ready to flare. "Oh joy!" She exclaimed sarcastically when he announced his return. She made no notice of his towel being dropped, though inside it caused her to seethe with rage. How could he flaunt himself like this, before a female that was engaged to another! It was revolting. He continued to talk, even as her eyes traveled over his bare form, straying from her original stubbornness. Even feeling a bit of pity for him.

His words were lost on her as she refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer, though he didn't seem to perturbed by it and didn't demand a response at all. Instead he dressed, much to her chagrin and relief. He spoke of showing her again later, something she wasn't exactly looking forward to, though she was a bit happy as she felt everything loosen as he released her to let her dress. She looked from him to the chest, an incredulous look on her face. She wanted to slap him, she wasn't about to model anything for him.

Emme scowled. "No, I will pick one and wear it. I shall not flaunt about and show off for the likes of you like a frivolous wench in need of YOUR approval. " she stomped her foot and bent to retrieve a dress from the chest. She grasped a ugly brown colored dress and held it up for a look. It was ugly but was cut a inch or two longer than the one she wore. Picking through what was left she found a cream colored dress and a intricate waist cincher. Putting the three things together, she would be pleased with it. Looking him in the eyes she proceeded to give him a show.

Pulling the layers off her body slowly she flung them to the floor and when only in her bloomers pulled on the brown dress. Her pale breasts swaying and showing off for him as though she didn't care, but she did. She wanted nothing more than to see approval in his eyes. Though she refrained from seeking it out as she ripped at the fabric, it was flimsy and gave way to showing off her trim legs. Letting it drop to the ground, she pulled on the cream dress and ripped the sleeves away to make a underskirt and top. Then, pilled the brown skirts back on she tied them around her waist before pulling the corset in tight, the fabric bunching and pulling low across her breasts and letting them spill a bit.

Soft leather boots and lacy hosiery completed the look as she stood before him waiting approval. She had kept within the guidelines he'd given her before, only this time she had finished details and the outfit was feminine without her being naked. She met his eyes as she stood there, though she couldn't help but feel naked.

[Reference Picture for Outfit]
 
Philippe had thought he noticed a slight shift in Emmeline's attitude. Perhaps the hours alone and tied up had taken a little of the fight out of the girl and she was more resigned to her fate. No magical rescuer had appeared and Philippe even dared hope that she might even not might the company of the dashing, roguish pirate captain if the alternative was solitary confinement. In any event, he noticed her gazing more freely at his nude form. It wasn't quite the lascivious, open mouthed drooling desire he would have hoped for, but it was certainly a casualness with his nudity that was encouraging. Let her get used to his naked body, then the next step was getting her to want it.

That thought chilled Philippe again as he realized his baser instincts were again driving him towards ways to plunder the girl. He'd have to walk a tight rope tonight.

Much to his surprise, Emmeline decided to dress in front of him. He had expected another demure turn of her back, but perhaps the young lady decided that after his own cavalier and nonchalent display of skin that she would look prudish and young if she wasn't comfortable changing in his company. It wasn't exactly a titillating strip tease, more of a functional disrobing and efficient redressing as she adjusted the dresses and cobbled together a new outfit out of fragments of three others. Still, the sight of her body from the front was thrilling to the jaded pirate. Like her back, her skin was flawless and porcelain white. A smooth, tempting expanse of virgin flesh with two succulent hanging mounds with adorable, pink nipples at their summits. Philippe was quickly mesmerized watching them jiggle and swing as the girl ripped at the dresses in her hand. It was a shame when she finally pulled her new outfit fully on, but there was some solace in that her new bustline was scandalously lower than before. With her breasts pressed together in the cinched bodice, her cleavage spilled out perilously and would be a truly tempting sight all dinner.

Did the supposedly chaste lady know what she was doing? After baring most her body to a depraved pilot, perhaps she liked his reaction? He hadn't been shy in ogling her, his eyes latching onto her breasts and his mouth curling into an appreciative smile. A few choice words had slipped out, including "Ooh la la" and "Mon dieu" to further encourage her. Philippe was also thankful his leather pants were relatively think, or else the full extent of her affect on him would be revealed by the bulge his throbbing cock was forming down his thigh.

"Mon cheri, you are an ange, radiant," Philippe said after rising to his feet and bowing. He took her palm and brought it up to his lips in an elegant kiss, his lips lingering on the back of her hand as he savored the taste of her skin. He let her go reluctantly and turned to grab a bottle of fine French wine that he had commandeered from the captured ship. After uncorking it, he poured two glasses of the red burgundy and proffered one to Emmeline as he motioned for the girl to sit. As if on cue, the door opened and the chef entered with the first of the courses, the beets, and a basket of bread and butter. After the man had left, Philippe took a careful sip of his wine and smiled at the excellent flavor.

"I think you'll like this red, very sweet and with a soft finish," he murmured as he stared at the girl. "Now tell me Emmeline, I know you have questions and concerns. What is it I can tell you about your fate?"
 
His cheering of her own were ignored, much like his little comments. She was only showing him what he could never have. Emme knew of the bounty and knew of the promises made, if she was returned whole. Teasing him was all she had left and so then it would start. He wanted to play games, she was up for the challenge, especially if the prize was his head. Simply put, she had nothing to lose. Of course she despised her fiance and wanted nothing to do with him, this was an out on all accords if he took her and if not, then at least she'd have a bit of fun.

Shaking her head she moved to the mirror to tame her wild locks, "Hardly..." she replied, twisting the strands away from her face and securing them with combs. her eyes settled on him as he closed the distance, caressing her hand with his lips. She blushed, the flood of emotion filling her with something more than chaste flirting and soft touches. Watching as he turned from her, she released her breath and moved to his side, taking the offered glass.

Emmeline didn't hesitate to sit, at least across the table there was less chance of more going on between them. Not that it wasn't her goal to have him soil her, but not yet, she needed a bit of time to settle herself and tame her fears. The wine in her shaky hand helped, though she took a quick drink before settling it against the table top. Her eyes landed on him, lips curling back into a smile. No matter what he wore she could close her eyes and imagine him bare. She wasn't convinced this was a good thing.

"You won't touch me, it's your head on the gallows if you do... this much I know. However, my father is a reasonable man and if things are returned... unspoiled and untouched things might bode well for you." She smiled at him over her wine glass, "I think I know my own fate, but then again I can always take things in my own hand if necessary. However, you feel you have my fate in your hand, giving me off to a man that could never love me and sees me only as a way to further his line or keeping me for your men to plunder when you are through with me. Either way, my fate isn't something I wish to discuss."

She drank down her wine, emptying the glass before starting on her beets. "What I would like to know, dear captain, is your story. Why chose this life or did it chose you? I am at your mercy, please enlighten me." She held out her glass for him to fill again as she chewed her beet. It was tender and delicious, the bread soft and the butter smooth and salty. It was a divine meal for being on a pirate ship, especially when all she thought they ate were salted or pickled herring and sea tack each meal. And of course, drank rum to top it off, not wine.
 
"I assure you that I can return you unspoiled and virginal for marriage, but throughly corrupted in every other way, if I desire," replied Philippe, winking at the innocent girl. She might not even understand what he implied, likely thinking a lady's womanhood was the only spot that mattered in sex. A surge of heat went through his body as he imagined all the things he could teach her, while still preserving her 'honor'.

But her next comments chilled his ardor and Philippe regarded the young lady thoughtfully as she morosely discussed her fate. He hadn't realized, until now, that she actually seemed to dislike her fiancee. He'd always assumed, like any blushing girl would, that she'd convinced herself that she loved the man even if it had been an arranged marriage. The thought stirred him somehow, a realization that even if he freed her, she'd still be a captive in spirit to another man that was forced on her. How like a prize she truly was, something of value bought, bargained and stolen by the men in her life, including her own father. There was little love lost there and Philippe rubbed his stubbled jaw and felt a pang of pity for her that he drowned with a swig of wine. He shouldn't feel anything for a captive, it was a weakness for a pirate to have such emotions, but she suddenly seemed less like a spoiled brat and more like a young, scared girl with nothing to look forward to at all. Full of bluster that masked an underlying sadness.

"Never think your fate is out of your hands. Perhaps you believe your life is set, marriage to a man picked for commercial reasons, or a life as a harlot on a pirate ship, but I assure you, men and women make their own fate, even when they think themselves most powerless," Philippe replied, finding it hard to not try and give her some encouragement. He finished with a little hint that if she cooperated, things might get better. It was really a ruse to ensure she was pliable, but it might make her feel good as well. "Perhaps if you get to know me, and please me, something unexpected might even happen that may surprise even you."

His little discourse on fate led Philippe to his own story. The chef arrived with the main course and he waited until the table was set to begin. The tenderloin, carrots and beans looks delicious and he was using his finest stolen china to serve the dishes as well as antique silver cutlery. The chef had even provided reasonably clean linen napkins, surprising even Philippe. As a last gesture to set the ambiance, the chef lit the candles on the table with a tinder and then gave a formal bow before leaving. With the setting sun starting to dip towards the horizon, the room was growing dim with a fiery pink and orange glow seeping in from the stern windows. It was suddenly an absurdly romantic setting, Philippe realized, with a breathtaking sunset serving as backdrop for their elegant candlelit dinner in the middle of the sea.

"My story is a simple one, a tale of a man mastering fate in fact," replied Philippe at last. He'd actually never told his true story to anyone, at least not in a full form from beginning to end. The idea of telling Emmeline his real background was strangely exhilarating, giving him an exhibitionist thrill like he'd felt prancing nude in front of her. He'd have to tell her his heartaches, his pains, and his successes to be honest, and with a sudden burst of courage, he decided he would do it. Why he wanted this pretty captive to know who he truly was, Philippe didn't know, but another sip of wine made him sure that it was something he had to do. "My father was a captain, a commercial captain that is. We were from France and he sailed us to the New World to find our fortune. It was just my mother and I, as my younger sister had died when she was young...."

Philippe told a story of growing up in small Caribbean port towns like St. Lucia and St. Maarten, and spending weeks aboard his father's ship learning how to sail and manage a crew. He was an apt learner, and by the age of twelve knew almost every aspect of being a sailor, from trimming sails, to hauling lines, and even navigation. Then his father had been killed, ironically by pirates on a short run between two islands. Their fortune hadn't been found yet, and Philippe suddenly found himself trying to earn money to support his mother as well as himself. By the age of thirteen he'd started crewing on ships, proving himself an able hand. But pay was low and his mother's health in decline, his fate had certainly seemed bleak back then.

And then it happened, his ship was taken by pirates one day when he was fifteen. For Philippe, the memory was burned in his mind in perfect clarity. The terror at seeing the black flag, being pursued and shot at for hours until they took down a mast, and then the horror of the attack as two dozen crazed and wild men had stormed their relatively unarmed merchant vessel with death in their eyes. Philippe had hated pirates then, they had killed his father after all, and he had foolishly used a blunt sword he found to try and defend the ship until one had backhanded him unconscious.

When he came to, he found himself the topic of humor by both crews. His captain, a seasoned veteran, had surrendered the ship without a fight to save his crew. Only teenage Philippe, of the dozen fully grown sailors on the ship, had been foolish enough to attack the boarding party. After plundering the valuable cargo, the pirate captain had taken Philippe and another crew member and press ganged them onto his crew to replace men who had died in another raid. They thought his spirit might make him a good crew member, but his hatred made him insolent and stubborn.

Thankfully, that pirate captain, the infamous Gold Tooth, had some patience and took a liking to the young boy with great sailing skills who reminded him of his long passed son. Over the course of years, after many punishments and training sessions, Philippe grew to love the old pirate and was his First Mate by the tender age of twenty. After that, he took over the ship following Gold Tooth's retirement and the last five years had seen him amass a fortune in treasure that he'd hidden on some remote island. While he had no regrets now, his only concern had been his mother finding out his new career choice, but she had sadly passed shortly after his capture and never endured the shame of Philippe becoming a criminal.

"And soon, my dear Lady, I'll hang up the sails and hand this over to my replacement and spend my remaining years trying to spend all the money I've stolen, a near impossible task," ended Philippe with a grin. He'd told her the truth, with only minimal embellishments that a good story teller might add. The only thing missing was any tales of romance or women in his life besides his dead mother. That was a topic he kept quiet, the wound still unhealed. "It's been a tough life, bloody, hard and cruel, but I answer to no one. I'm my own King, my own Governor, and have the freedom of the seas to do what I choose."

During his tale, they'd finished both the meal and the first bottle of wine, with a second sitting nearly empty in its place. The sun had set and his cabin was lit just by the flickering candelabra on the table between them, giving a rich, warm glow to Emmeline's white skin. The wine was making Philippe warm, relaxed a little lightheaded. He was sure the smaller girl who had drunk a fair share was also feeling the effects. The shadows seemed to make her cleavage grow deeper and drew Philippe's eyes to that delicious canyon over and over again. How he longed to plunge into it with his mouth and explore those depths. She was a proper lady, gorgeous, educated, well mannered and so well bred, yet dressed like a whore and apparently interested in his seedy life. He felt suddenly closer to the girl, after sharing his story, and at the same time found he wanted her even more than before. A roguish grin appeared on his face and he leaned forward, blue eyes smoldering as he stared at her with a hungry gaze.

"Well, mon amis, shall we get you ready for bed? I'm eager for dessert myself."
 
Simply put, a shudder moved through her body. She may have been virginal, but women and girls talked, she'd heard enough to understand some if not all of what he was saying. Interestingly enough, she found she wanted to be corrupted by him in every imaginable way, desired it... but let it go. For him to know this would be a very bad thing.

His words caused her eyes to lift and flit over him, consider him, if you will, for a moment. Making her own fate, what did he truly know. Nothing! She had no say in her fate though she thought she could help it along one way or another. She loved the idea of returning to Charles after having been corrupted. He would find some way to get out of it, make it easy on both of them and not sully her father's good name. He'd look kindly on her and probably think it wasn't her doing, though she would enjoy each minute of it knowing all along she would be smiting her father.

Her lips lifted in a smile, not because of his encouragement... though he was vain enough to think that, but because of how her fate could play right into her hands. She liked that idea and if, like he said, she got to know him and please him, in some fashion or another, he might treat her a little better than she supposed he was now. Perhaps he could leave the shackles off and allow her a bit of freedom, treating her as less of a prisoner and more of an conspirator or equal. Their dinner arrived, fine china carried a lovely meal that looked like it came from a king's kitchen and not the galley of a pirate ship. The candles on the table were lit and a ambient glow settled on the captain and his guest.

Everything changed in her mind, the setting was lovely. Not unlike a captain wooing the love of his life into his life forever. Many romance novels she'd read had scenes, not unlike this one within their pages. However, it was never a pirate captain and his damsel in distress. Though she really wasn't feeling stressed, in fact the whole ordeal was delightful. That is, until she looked down upon her exposed breasts and the shocking display she put forth.

Luck would have it that he wove a tale so rich, her mood was transported from the sour one her clothes put her in, to a lovelier disposition. His tale could have been a book and if she hadn't known better might have thought it came from a vast selection of novellas and children's fables. All put together to create his fantastical, yet sad and truly remarkable story. He seemed not to spare on most details and she could see his life mapped out in front of them with a clarity she had never fathomed before. For a moment she was beside him on the sea, wind in her hair and the sun on her face, enter the dark pirates and the sad tale of his pirate life. Yet, the way he talked didn't make it seem too dark and he sort of spun it into something magical.

While he spoke and literally, enchanted his captive, her food slowly disappeared. But at the end of the tale she couldn't have told a soul how it tasted, so engrossed in his story she couldn't even focus on it. Wine flowed freely and she indulged a bit too much, she giggled, a fine tell of her inebriated state. Though she wasn't so foggy as to not hear the last sentence he spoke. "Hardly, you enchanting Captain. Do you find me so daft to not know what I mean?" She said, fumbling her words. "I will have You for dessert," She giggled. Her cheeks had a delightful flush of color across them. Her blue eyes emblazoned with heat, pride and maybe a tinge of lust.

"I can ready myself... just you watch." Her head felt light as she stood. Slowly she spun, a giggle passing her lips as she unhooked the belt and began to strip down, her actions mimicking the tantalizing show he gave early. Though it was meant to be seductive she giggled throughout and when naked she grasped a gown. She looked between the white linen and her body, a full lower lip protruding slightly in the way of a pout. "I need a bath captain, I can't see dressing in clean linen and sleeping on clean sheets, while I myself am filthy." She tossed him a look over her bare shoulder, "Can you help me?" She smiled a dazzling smile, only asking for his help in getting the water. It wasn't an invitation.
 
Philippe should have been proud. At any other time this was a situation that the lusty Pirate Captain would dream of. Across from him was a beautiful, virgin with her tempting assets on full display in a whorish dress. The girl was drunk on wine and even drunker in desire for the roguish and handsome Captain after he'd wooed her with his story. It had been child's play really, the sheltered, noble girl had never had a man so boldly and overtly charm her, with his rampant and purely sexual desire proudly displayed. The setting, with the fine food, candles, and romantic sunset had stacked the odds further in his favor, and she was no doubt feeling some erotic thrill at the idea of her precious honor being plundered thoroughly while she could still claim it was against her will. Add in the fact that she hated her arranged marriage and likely wanted to blow it up, and the tables had turned quickly. She wanted him to fuck her, to take her like a harlot and show her everything she longed for, even things she didn't even know she liked yet. She was like a ripe peach, begging to be devoured, a girl on the threshold of being a woman and hungering for that final act that would let free her of the shackles her Father and society put on her around her own body.

But Philippe couldn't do it. Not when the prize she offered upon her return as a virgin was so great. A full pardon would let him enjoy his wealth while his head was still attached to his shoulders. It was a pirate's dream and worth more than any woman, no matter how tempting. What an agonizing position he had put himself in with this dinner. Better that he had treated her cruelly and kept her chained like a dog, her hatred a barrier that would fend off Philippe's own desires and get him through moments of weakness like this one.

When she threw his words back at him and said she'd have him for dessert, Philippe felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, although he kept a hungry grin on his face. What should have been a masterpiece of seduction, a fine prize to enjoy for days until returning her thoroughly corrupted to her family, had just become a nightmare of his own creation. A suddenly lusty, very amorous, and completely besmitten girl that was practically threatening to take advantage of the Pirate. What had he done?

Then she stripped before him and Philippe felt his resolve faltering. Surely there might be a way he could have his play and still keep her honor. To have his cake and eat it too? Her body was exposed to him inch by inch and he found his cock slowly hardening as that glowing, white skin was revealed. She was no whore and didn't know how to really tease him while she disrobed, but the very innocence and lack of craft she used made the act more erotic than even the most skilled of stripteases by an experienced harlot. The raw shame and dirtiness of what she did was plain to his eyes, the slight inhalation as her soft breasts were exposed to his hungry gaze, the flush on her face and neck as she wriggled the dress off, and the nervous giggling as she pulled her bloomers down to stand before him at last fully nude. Of course his eyes lingered on her stomach and legs, drinking in the delta at the apex of her legs, where a small thatch of light, curly brown hair did little to cover the teasing hint of her undoubtably aroused slit. She had shown him almost everything now, and Philippe found it without any fault.

"A bath? Aye, that I can arrange," replied Philippe, standing unsteadily as he walked to the door. A quick shout to a seaman and he turned to watch the nude girl as she stood with a gown clasped before her, a teasing act of modesty that only inflamed his ardor. He planned on helping her get clean in ways she didn't yet imagine. A knock at his door yielded a wooden bucket full of steaming water, which Philippe took, preventing his inquisitive crew member from peeking inside. "I'll give you a cleaning mon cheri, that'll leave you quite ready for bedding."

Eyes smoldering at her, Philippe stripped off his shirt and threw it to the floor. Grabbing a clean towel from his dresser and a bar of lavender scented soap from his bureau, he turned and advanced on the naked girl with eyes full of desire. Gently, he pulled the gown from her small hands and let it fall, so she stood naked next to his half-nude body. Philippe towered over her, his strong muscles and imposing height a reminder of just how much she was in his power. Never losing eye contact, he dipped the soft towel in the hot water and rubbed soap onto the fabric, before he placed a hand on the small of her back and drew her to his side. Her back was arched slightly as he pinned her hip against his own, causing her to lean back and offer her swinging breasts to his gaze. The posture made her head turned up towards him as if inviting a kiss.

"You are quite a dirty little girl, I can tell, and I'm going to make sure you are scrubbed very, very clean," he murmured as he lowered his face to hers in a first, passionate kiss. There was no pretense, or tentativeness, he knew she wanted him and hungered for this first taste of a real man. He kissed her back with even more desire, tongue slipping past her sweet lips and swirling into her mouth, savoring her flavor, exploring her freely, and pouring every ounce of his hot desire into that intimate act. Philippe would try to let her know with this deep, dominating and intense kiss that she was his completely, in his grasp and under his spell.

As the Pirate's lips brushed hers, his other hand took the wet towel and started to wash her. Beginning at her neck, in a soft clasp that held her head still for his mouth and let him feel her racing pulse. Once the kiss had begun, he started to move his hand down her torso, exploring her body in the same fashion his tongue explored her lips and mouth. With soft, circular strokes, he rubbed her collarbone, then slid down the valley between her full breasts, before finally doubling back up to caress those glorious mounds. Soon her top half was coated in sudsy, hot water that glistened in the warm candlelight. He could feel the hardened nubs of her nipples through the towel as he rubbed them, letting his fingers brush against them through the cloth and tease them further. Over and over again he washed her chest, before finally moving his hand lower to begin to wash her supple belly. His strokes were long and smooth now, ever widening circles that got lower and lower, until at last he brushed against the hair between her legs. He broke the kiss and held his hand above her sex as he stared into her eyes.

"Do you want me to wash your dirty body, mon cheri? Spread your legs for me and let me clean you."
 
She bit her lip and watched as he moved across to the door, shouting for water. It was a rather quick process and as soon as he had the water she turned to face him. His words made her unsteady, want to run away or something. She felt like prey that the hunter was after, the way he said bedding led her to think other things would be afoot. Did he honestly think after one night she would give in to him and allow him betwixt her thighs? She wasn't some street harlot, she had morals and wanted to wait at least one more night before he soiled her.

She took a step back as he closed the distance between them. Emme was unsure of his actions and she didn't want him taking advantage of her. "Oh!" She exclaimed, when he tugged the gown from her hands. Her eyes left his to roam his chest, soft fingers lifted, but she forced them back to her sides. To touch him now would only further spur his actions, something she wasn't sure she was quite ready for. Down to his fingers as he worked the rag into the water and then a bit of soap. Feeling the intensity of his gaze her eyes moved back up to his. Locking on his desire filled orbs.

Letting out her breath in an "oomph" as he jerked her closer and against him, she leaned back and stared at him, bracing herself with her hands on his chest. His words caused her blue eyes to widen slightly as she watched his face slowly lower. Her hands slid up to his shoulders as he leaned, her lips soft and moist parted for him as her eyes closed and she followed his lead on the first touch. Emmeline couldn't stop it, even if she wanted to, and she didn't. The kiss was magical and expert. Her own tongue left her mouth to touch his and glide past into his warm depths.

Whimpering softly into the kiss as he began to wash her. His actions normal as could be until her breasts got a longer washing. She quivered and moaned into their kiss as his hands moved over the hard peaks of her breasts. Slowly she felt herself giving over to the pleasure. Allowing the pleasure to course through her veins and down into other places. The dark curls of her sex were already damp, but now they grew more so as she thought of the further touches she would receive.

Curls of desire swept through her as his hand moved lower, the circles causing her to whimper and writhe with need. Her hands, that had once laid flat on his shoulders, now curled into the flesh for support. Finding herself wanting that touch scared her a bit. But as he asked she spread her legs, she didn't even have to think about it. Widening the distance between her feet she gazed up at him, her fingers stroking down his chest, over his stomach and back up. After all, he made her feel good... why couldn't she return the favor?

With her legs spread and her hand trailing his torso, Emme felt the need welling up in her for his touch. Though it still scared her a bit, she wanted it. Feeling as though she could stop him before things go to far out of her control. At least this was her thoughts on the matter.
 
Philippe was enjoying Emmeline's sweet reactions to his touch. The innocent girl had such an intoxicating mix of barely repressed desire and shameful reluctance that the hardened pirate felt a depraved thrill at what he was doing to her. She was like an unspoiled, ripe peach, ready to be bitten into. Juicy, fresh and so tempting to his suddenly hungry body. Even their kiss had been a corrupting thrill, her mouth reacting with a mix of shyness and then increasing boldness as she gave into the new experience, even kissing him back with enthusiasm by the end. It had been unlike anything he'd experienced in years. Many years.

Even sweeter, the girl had lost some of her fire and he no longer feared her managing to seduce him past his limits. Either her drunken courage had faded when confronted with a half-naked man holding her in his arms, or she had realized the enormity of the repercussions of her half-baked, drunken plan to seduce him and end her engagement. Either way, he could tell she was nervous and stiff in his arms suddenly, even as her desire grew hotter and she practically quivered at his every brush. The battle was delicious to witness, Emmeline's own prudish and sheltered upbringing fighting the sensuous pleasure that her body was suddenly craving. Philippe held her in his hand, figuratively and literally, and she felt like a doll he could bend to his will, a plaything for him whose heart, mind and body could be owned completely with just a little extra work.

The thought scared him slightly, a reminder of just how innocent she was and the fact that Philippe didn't want her to fall in love with him. No, that certainly would be an unnecessary complication to his plan of having some playful fun and stress release with the tempting girl. Philippe took a deep breath as he stared into Emmeline's tortured blue orbs. While her fingers traced his chest and stomach, Philippe thought he could almost see desire winning out over her reluctance. His muscles were firm under those graceful hands and even the dark hair of his chest was a potent reminder that he was a grown man, not a foolish boy like her fiancee. She clearly liked this new and scandalous feeling of a strong man holding her, Philippe's bare torso pressed against her nude form. In the space of hours she'd gone from a betrothed virgin to now being on the cusp of becoming something else, a woman in full maybe, but also a woman in her world that had no honor.

"Come, mon cheri, come, let me clean your dirtiest spot of all," Philippe whispered again, scruffy cheek nuzzling in against Emmeline's soft face as he kissed her ear one more time. He could feel her shift and felt another surge of heat as she willingly parted her thighs for him, lifting up a leg slightly as she leaned more against his sturdy frame. She wanted this new pleasure, hungered for it. Philippe moved the warm cloth between her legs, washing her inner thighs at first before moving up to graze her nether lips. Ever so slowly, in a teasing and cruel display of patience, he rubbed the soft, wet cloth through her virgin folds, touching her sex intimately like no man had ever done before. Through the thin fabric, he could feel the contours of her sex, the swollen lips and the untouched slit that so badly tempted him. Philippe was careful to not touch her strong enough to drive her even close to orgasm, but instead gave a gentle rub that increased in pressure, designed to hint to the girl of greater pleasures to come.

"Now, mon amis, I think you are ready for my final cleaning... this time I use my my tongue instead of a wash cloth, but lick all the same places," Philippe whispered again, teeth grazing Emmeline's ear lobe as he let the image fill her head of him giving her entire body a tongue bath, including where his hand was right now. He dropped the cloth and placed a hand on her hip, shifting and pushing her small frame back against the wooden wall with ease. Philippe separated from her and unlaced his breeches as he stared at the flushed girl with a smoldering gaze. When the leather pants fell, his manhood sprung out. No longer soft and swinging, like some silly appendage with no purpose, instead now his cock was fully hard, much bigger, throbbing with desire, and almost menacing in the singleminded purpose it represented. There could be no doubt she had awoken a tool solely designed to fuck her, nature's natural weapon against her virginity. The transformation would likely be shocking and he let her gaze upon it as it stuck straight out before him, almost brushing the bare skin of her stomach.

"Now, sweet Emmeline, let me make this easy for you and take the choice out of your hands," said Philippe with a smile. Directly above her was the hook with the leather cuffs hanging and his eyes flicked to it. The pirate reached forward with his hands and took one of Emmeline's skinny wrists in his palms, slowly raising her arm above her head and making one of her breasts rise with it. Pressing close to her, his cock now brushing up against her smooth stomach, he latched her wrist into the leather cuff while giving her another hot and steamy kiss. A brief separation to grab the other hand, eyes again locked on her blue ones, and then that hand was lifted and cuffed to join the first, so she both her hands were restrained above her head and her nude body was helpless before him. Like this, any thoughts of changing her mind would be useless, but it also was a form of control for Philippe. Without her hands and body free to temp him more, he felt he had the self-discipline to play with the luscious captive and not spoil her ransom value with some foolish act. "Don't worry about your honor, just say that some horrible pirate captain ravished you. You couldn't stop him, he had you tied up and was so much stronger. There was nothing you could do, except maybe enjoy his touches."

A wry smile came to Philippe's face as he finished talking. He cupped her cheeks with his hands for another lingering kiss, letting her know that tied up or not, he viewed her as his willing accomplice in whatever happened next. He broke their lips and pressed his muscled frame against her slender one to stare at her intensely. Her back was against the wall while her soft breasts pushed up against his chest, while between them his cock rubbed against their stomachs. It was an intimate touch of almost their entire naked bodies against one another. One of his hands began to slowly go down her flank, fingertips tracing on the soft white skin. He moved that hand at an agonizingly slow pace, but the goal was clear from the first motion, that delta of hair between her legs again. This time he would be touching her with his bare fingers. Her first real touch by a man.
 
The cloth in his grasp ran along her thighs, gently. But then, the slight touch came and she shook like a leaf on the tree in autumn. His fingers brushed against her sex gently, with the rag. The touch was a whisper of the touch she knew he could give, the touch she craved. Her hands that had trailed his body with thoughts of touching him, now clung to his side in an attempt to keep her upright. "Please," her mouth moved and the words, almost silently, fell from it.

Emmeline whimpered as his words hit her, her fingers growing brave once more and dragging along the waistband of his pants. She aimed to please him, though the thoughts he brought to the surface took her mind away from her task. Long enough that he could press her against the wall. She bit her lip and looked up into his eyes, it was pure desire she saw and radiated. Mouth falling open briefly as he revealed himself to her. She licked her lips, hunger apparent. Even though she wasn't entirely sure what she should do.

She glanced between it and his face as he stood there, it's warmth ghosting her soft pale flesh. Gone was her foolish little game, pure desire ran through her veins. Her fingers moved out away from her, the tips of one just grazing the head of his cock before he was lifting it up to be cuffed. "No, please... I wish to touch you." She begged him. But his lips silenced her, his cock hard and hot against her pale stomach. She moaned into the heated kiss as he grasped her other hand and cuffed it as well. "Please, do not..." She whispered. It wasn't a plea not to have her. But for her to participate.

Though it was painfully clear she would participate whether she wanted to or not. When he took the choice away she didn't want to play. Her lips settled into a firm line and she refused to meet his gaze. She wanted the choice but she also wanted his touch. Gentle or not she wanted the touch between her legs, even if she wanted to fight it now while being pinned to the wall.

Their bodies touched fully, inch against inch. He was deliciously warm, she trembled against him as he gave her an intimacy she'd never been party to before. his fingers began to tease her, she pitched and whined against him, trying to deny that the touch was something she even wanted, but she did. Even she couldn't deny the fire that burned in her light blue orbs for the captain.

She bit her lip and turned her eyes away, blinking them open and closed rapidly. Upset he'd taken her touch of him away. She felt her skin quivering as his hand lowered, part of her wishing he'd hurry up so that it could be finished, the anticipation.
 
Philippe was almost as full of desire as Emmeline appeared to be when his fingers finally slid home and he found her wet, hot womanhood nestled between her partly spread thighs. The inexperienced girl's reaction to his every touch and kiss had been delicious to see, so raw and full of emotion. Every feeling, every sight, and every thought appeared to be new to her, and she visibly struggled to control herself as he upended her world and introduced her to a new realm of sensations. The wide-eyed, lusty look she had given his hard cock when he'd finally revealed it to her had sent a thrill of pride through the jaded pirate. Most women he fucked had seen a man aroused before and he'd wanted so badly to let her play with him longer as the girl clearly wanted to explore his body as much as wished to explore her own. But, the electric surge of pleasure he felt from the brief, tentative caress her fingers gave the tip of his cock was almost too much. If he let her have her way, he'd be overcome with desire and fucking her within minutes. No, he had to maintain control. He had to set the pace.

So Philippe content himself with sliding his fingers through her sodden folds, the wet slurp and smack of her arousal became a lewd soundtrack to his artful teasing. The girl was flushed, hot and lusty, and he played her like a fiddle. The hand between her quivering thighs moved at different speeds and intensities, at times rubbing her soft and slow, her entire dripping mound cupped in his palm like a ripe peach, or suddenly rubbing just the hooded button of her clit in a fast circle. To slow her down, when he found her breathing too fast, he'd trace his fingers through her slit, running them through her folds and circling the swollen nub at the top of her sex, or teasing around her entrance and toying with the edges of her maidenhood that stood as flimsy shield for her honor. He kept her pleasure growing in waves, letting her ride the newfound sensations like a boat rocking on a deep ocean swell. Every wave grew larger than the last, and the building swell hinting of some peak she might reach that would give her release for the need he was steadily growing inside of her. By now she was soaked, her arousal leaking off his hand and down her thighs, her body so ready to be taken to its first orgasm.

While his fingers worked, Philippe gave her the promised tongue bath that he had teased her with. Starting with a soft, deep and probing kiss, he began to slowly lick the most sensual parts of her body starting with her ears. He whispered sweet dirty words as he sucked, nibbled and kissed her earlobes, such as "Do you feel my fingers in your pussy? You are dripping with desire for me. Do you want my cock in here? Can you fit it inside of you?" Then he dragged his mouth down her neck, following her jawline for a bit before covering her tender throat with kisses and nibbles. As he reached her chest, he paused to stare up at her and give her a knowing wink. The twin mounds before him were heaving and swinging slightly from her ragged breathing, their shape even more perky as a result of being pulled up high from the arms that were cuffed above her head. They were truly perfect and Philippe licked his lips as he feasted on them with eyes. Lowering his mouth to the valley between them, Philippe first dragged his tongue around each mound slowly, teasing her while avoiding the sensitive skin of her breasts. Than he licked each mound in a slow circle, starting at the edge and narrowing the diameter of his tongue as his mouth approached the dark pink bullseye of the nipple in the center. When he at last reached that erect bud, he took it in his mouth to suckle, tongue flicking it from the inside as he teeth held it lightly in place.

"Mhmm you are delicious, but still so dirty, mon cheri," Philippe murmured, his head now moving lower. Her stomach was a fun canvas for him to paint with his saliva, and he dragged his mouth around that smooth and supple flesh, teasing her belly button and ticklish flanks, until he was at last kneeling before her and licking the flesh above the patch of curly hair that covered her sex. His thumb was rubbing her clit as his fingers idly tapped against her swollen netherlips. "And so dirty still down here."

Philippe lifted one of her thighs and placed it on his shoulder, spreading her open as he shifted lower to peer at her womanhood. It parted like a pink petal before his eyes, glistening wet with her nectar dripping off the darker red flesh of her inner lips. His kisses returned, but this time he cleaned her inner thighs using a mix of question tongue and nibbles of his teeth. He licked up every trace of her tangy arousal, cleaning that intimate flesh on both sides of her mound until his tongue was dragging just along the outside of sex, threatening to delve into her slit at any second. Her musk was strong in his nose, a sweet and powerful odor of a young girl aroused for the first time ever and begging for more pleasure.

"No matter how much I lick, you keep producing more. I'll have to clean it at the source," Philippe said as he finally placed his mouth on her hot mound. His powerful tongue took a deep, slow lick through her slit, lapping up abundant juices from her entrance up to the swollen nub of her clit. Smacking his lips in appreciation of her taste, Philippe then buried his mouth into her hot slit, giving her a deep, wet and hungry kiss like he might give her mouth. Lips and tongue moved sensually in her folds as he slurped and smacked within her virgin mound, smearing her juices on his cheeks and chin as he stared up her arching body to watch the reaction on her face. She was on the edge from all his teasing and Philippe decided to give her the first orgasm of her life and not hold back any longer. The poor girl simply couldn't stand much more of this and he was eager to let her sample the ecstasy that he knew she'd grow to crave.

With newfound enthusiasm, Philippe started to eat the girl's pussy with almost reckless abandon. There was no need for finesse at this point, just sloppy, messy and greedy devouring of the girl's most sensitive spot as his hands gripped her ass cheeks hard and held her squirming body firmly in place. His mouth moved through her folds, licking, sucking, nibbling and blowing as he explored every inch of her dripping womanhood in intimate detail. His groans and moans of lust were felt as vibrations rather than heard, sending additional shoots of pleasure into her overstimulated nerves. As he sensed her approaching the brink of her pleasure, he moved to concentrate on her clit, using that hardened nub as the tool to push her off the cliff and into her first orgasm. His tongue went from licking around it, swollen and poking from it's wrinkled hood, to flicking that button over and over again, hard. And finally, as she exploded above him, he took her clit in his mouth to suckle on like a teat, coaxing her to cum as his mouth overwhelmed that bundle of nerves with even more potent stimulus.
 
Emme tried to deny his touch, the merit of it. But her body denied her that last shred of decency. even biting her lip and closing her eyes, her mind trying to take her to other places didn't work. All she kept imagining was his hard cock bobbing in the air as he played over her woman hood like a string instrument. He may have changed up his touch at times, but it all felt wonderful. She moaned in spite of herself, legs shaking weakly as the pleasure built. At least, until he changed course.

However, when his finger dipped inside her body, she nearly lost it, "Captain..." she whispered hoarsely quivering on the edge but not allowing herself to fall. She didn't even feel bad that she couldn't remember his name. Hell, she didn't know if he even told it to her. Feeling him press against her maidenhead felt incredible, yet dangerous. The feeling of needing to be full of him hit her. She understood in an instant what need was, even as she dripped desire and moaned for more.

Emmeline didn't fight him, returning his kiss eagerly. In her mind she was free of her chains and pushing him back before climbing on him and impaling herself, there was nothing more powerful than taking ones own virginity. Whining when his lips left hers she blinked at him, his dirty words were true. Nodding her head at him, her voice lifted in a beg. Now words came out but she was sure he understood what she wanted. She felt his fingers, she wanted his cock plunging deep within her until they both were spent. Though she wasn't exactly certain if she could fit him inside her, but it would be fun to try.

His mouth lowered to her breasts as his fingers still toyed with her dripping sex. His teasing tongue just out of reach of her nipple at each passing. Until he wrapped his lips around the tight bud, tongue tapping it back and forth as she screamed out in pleasure at the sensation. "Please......." The word was garbled but the way her body moved she knew that he knew she needed and wanted release or more truthfully, she wanted him. Her body lost focus until he was on his knees before her, the pad of his finger rubbing her clit. Then her legs were spread wide, one over his shoulder and the other still quaking on the ground as his mouth worked to clean up her fluids thus far.

He skirted around her aching slit, she figured with just a touch of his tongue her juices would spill... but such wasn't the case as he lapped at her slit. Hips set into motion, rocking against him as her nails dug into her soft palms. Eyes closing against the insurmountable amount of pleasure he was giving her by delving into her as he was. Her voice was rough, hoarse from her cries and pleas. But then something happened...

His licks were harder as he gave her more, his teeth grazing the hard nub of pleasure and his tongue delving into her sensitive channel. He pulled her to him, latching on as it were... as her fingers wished to force him to do, long before this moment. It took only a moment and her body was pouring out it's nectar as she cried out for more. But her body wasn't done. She had a second smaller orgasm when he latched on to her clit, white cream dribbling from her aching fold and slowly making it's way down her inner thigh as she screamed to the heavens. Her tight channel convulsing causing the entrance to her body to visibly shudder.

"Please... please have me... I need you inside me... please..." She sobbed, begging the pirate captain to fuck her. She felt pathetic and needy.
 
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