The Red Devil.
I must have slept. It was dark and I vaguely saw a large man standing before me. He was wearing a beautiful red cape with black trousers and vest. A thin rapier hung free at his side, and I could see a pistol and a several daggers on his belt.
His face was narrow and thin, his red hair heavy around his head and face, his beard a well-trimmed goatee and a bushy mustache. His eyes gleamed at me and he smiled triumphantly as I awoke. He was quiet handsome I thought, with some hope to my fate. Could a handsome man be cruel?
I was trussed at the foot of the mast, ropes binding my arms behind me. I was surrounded by men. Tall men, short men, fat men, skinny men. Men of various colors and styles. Men with missing limbs or patches over their eyes. Men of various ages, some quite young, almost children, and others much older, graying and losing their hair.
I had never seen so many different men. It frightened and yet thrilled me. Back in England almost all the men I knew were alike: rich barons and lords with fancy clothes and snuffboxes and abominable habits, or young playboys like William, eventually to inherit the family fortune and title. These men were vastly different from
them, and yet all different amongst themselves. It was a heady mix, and I found myself alternately feeling aroused, sickened, or terrified.
The man in red approached me. “My lady,” he began in perfect King’s English. “Let me present myself. I am called the Red Devil.” Cheers went up from the men around him when he said this and he smiled and waited for them to subside.
“You are obviously a lady of breeding. What is your name and title?” I pondered keeping my identity a secret, but finally decided I would better be served by telling the truth. Perhaps I could hope for a ransoming.
“My name is Lady Sarah Leebury, daughter of Lord Leebury.” I had wanted my voice to ring out true and defiant, but instead, weakened and dried out from lack of sufficient liquid and from such a long time without speaking, my voice cracked and sounded faint and harsh. The men laughed.
The Red Devil calmed them and smiled at me again. “And how old are you, my lady?”
“In December I shall be nineteen,” I said proudly, regaining some control over my vocal cords. The crowd whistled and jeered at this news, and there were many off-color remarks I shall spare this narrative. Suffice it to say that their grotesque suggestions shocked me and reddened my cheeks, generating even more laughter.
The Red Devil smiled at me gallantly. “I think the lady is a virgin, gentlemen! Can we believe it? What a fortune the empty ‘Lady Agatha’ has given us!” The men laughed at this.
“But perhaps you do not tell the truth, _Lady_ Sarah. There have been people attempting to fool us, dressing up in women’s robes and putting on an effeminate nature so as to deceive us. Always do they tell us they are royalty so as to hope we would not defile them but ransom them instead. We need proof that you are who
you say, my lady. Do you mind showing us your proof?”
“My proof? What proof are you talking about? You have my word as a Lady that I am who I say I am!”
The Red Devil laughed uproariously at this. “You do not realize how foolish your words are, my lady. We need better proof than your words. We need proof we can see. Show us you are a Lady!” he shouted and flung his arms in the air.
One of the men promptly came towards me and cut the ropes binding my arms. I slowly stood up and rubbed my wrists and tried to orient myself. The Red Devil and the other pirates stood watching me expectantly. I had no idea what they were expecting so I stood silent and haughtily watched them back.
“Are you defying me, young lady?” the Red Devil said quietly with a dreadful threat beneath his words. I felt my legs tremble in terror and I willed them to be still.
“No, sir,” I whispered. “I have no proof but my word, sir. If that be not enough than you will just have to kill me.”
“Kill you?” He laughed again. “Kill you? You think we want to kill you? Our first virgin in over a year and you think we want to kill you? That is the last thing we want to do–that is, if you really are a Lady.”
I regained some of my composure and stared at him directly. “I am a Lady.”
“Than show me,” he whispered, drawing dangerously close to me and touching my sleeve. “Show us you are a lady. Take off your clothes, you wretched whore!” With that he slapped my face with the back of his hand.
It was a hard blow and it caught me by surprise. I almost fell over. I stared at him in horror, tears filling my eyes. Was he insane? Undress, here, on the deck of his ship with a hundred men watching?
Even as I thought it I felt something in me change. My crotch was damp again, and I felt a sexual hunger at the thought of undressing before all these men. Would I really have the nerve?
But the Red Devil was looking at me in a fury and I hastened to obey. I had no idea what they would do to me if I disobeyed, but for now, I decided to cooperate.
It took me time to disrobe and I could sense the frustrations of the men watching. Several shouted at me to make haste as I struggled with all the expensive buttons and silk undergarments. As I removed my undergarments exposing my breasts I blushed hearing the comments and whistles from the men. I was pleased they seemed pleased, but I noticed from the corner of my eye that the Red Devil was especially interested and for some reason that pleased me the most.
Soon I was utterly naked. Men took away my garments and I stood alone, in the center, my arms and hands vainly attempting to cover myself. Now I had never given a great deal of thought about my physical appearance, but from the comments of the men I decided I must be very beautiful.
My breasts are quite plump. Not huge like Tilly’s, my handmaid’s, but medium-sized. I have always been thin, but not skinny. My mother once told me I had the figure of an hourglass. At the time I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
But the pirates were vocal in their appreciation. At first they fell silent when I was completely nude and I thought there must be something wrong with me. But it seemed they were just startled by how beautiful I was.
Soon they were making catcalls and rude comments. One man said he could “drink from those jugs all day long” and though I had never heard the term I knew he was speaking of my breasts. Others made crude references to my large buttocks, my virgin sex, my legs, and even my mouth and face.
Throughout this time I stood struggling to cover myself, my mind whirling with all I heard. I was torn between revulsion and humiliation and yet aroused by all the compliments and appreciation. A woman always likes her body to be appreciated.
The Red Devil was speaking to his man again, a large muscular man without a shirt. He leapt into the rigging much more nimbly than I would have thought for such big man. Above my head he threaded a rope through a pulley on one of the cross beams and let the rope drop down near me. In a moment he was there.
He took my hands and tied my wrists together with a piece of leather. Then he fastened the hanging rope to the leather with quick, efficient sailor knots. Suddenly he pulled on the other end of the rope and my arms shot upward over my head and I was pulled off my feet. I screamed and struggled but I was held tight.
He let me down until my toes were just barely touching the deck and then he fastened the rope to the mast. I hung there, completely naked, my arms above head, my entire body exposed to all the brutes on the boat.
If I kicked my feet I would swing about, but if I was still I could hold myself in position with the tips of my toes. I also found I had a horrible tendency to spin, slowly rotating around so that everyone could get to see every part of me.
The night was cool, not cold, but the light breeze made me feel so exposed and vulnerable and ashamed I began to cry, my tears dripping down my chest. The noise of the excited men was deafening as they shouted and jeered and leered at me. Finally the captain interceded.
“Well, Lady Leebury, you certainly are _not_ a man! You are indeed a lady. However, I think you are a most rebellious lady. You need chastisement to cool down that temper of yours. You are most disobedient and naughty. My friends and I, however, will undertake your education.”
Heavy dread filled me as I swung there. So there was to be no ransom for me. My pure body was to be ravished by these vile men. I was at their mercy, and they looked like they had no idea what the word meant.
End of The Captains Wife – Part 4: The Red Devil
by Flogmaster
Continued in Part 5
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