Doing the Pirate the French Way
Evelyn’s fate is bound with that of the Pirate
PART EIGHT of the Pirates of the Caribbean serial
If you are new to this story serial, read PART ONE, Pilgrims Below Deck, or review the summary by clicking here.
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When attacking the Spanish ship, Captain Howell and the crew were privateers for the English King. However, the Spanish would hang everyone aboard for piracy without question. Evelyn knew they would hang her before they discovered she was a girl. No amount of pleading would save her from a Spanish noose.
The sun was setting, but there was still sufficient daylight to see the Spanish Man-of-War turn away from the shallow water. The Spanish fired a volley from their cannons, but the act served only to confirm that the pirates were safely out of range.
The moon rose and displayed the silhouette of Inagua Island no more than two miles to the east.
“Drop all sails,” Captain Howell ordered, and the ship glided to a stop.
Evelyn exhaled a sigh of relief and almost reached out to hug him. The pirate captain was her only link to Uncle Hank and freedom, and she was awash with an odd desire to be close to him. Captain Howell was standing close beside her; she could feel the warmth from his body. As the adrenaline faded, her knees wobbled. With a confused emotion she did not understand, she wanted nothing more than for him to hold her.
Captain Howell sensed the need of the young woman. “Come, let’s go have some wine to celebrate our escape.” He led the way to his cabin. Imagining her resolve had softened, he locked the door and poured two goblets. “This is the fine port from your uncle. Where did he get it?”
Evelyn peered into the cup and smelled the thick odor. “He traded Scottish wool for it in the Azores Islands.” The memory of that splendid day seemed a lifetime ago.
“So,” he said with a cheer in his voice as he clinked his goblet against hers, “a toast to the hangman who must wait another day.”
They each took a sip. Evelyn swallowed a larger measure of the warming fluid. It relaxed her following the strenuous day.
“I hope he must wait many days.” She winked.
“Here, here.” They clinked their cups and sipped again.
Feeling the effects of the wine, Evelyn giggled. “Aren’t you afraid of being hanged?” she asked, her voice changing to a serious tone.
“Afraid — no.” He shook his head. “It is the nature of my business. There must be the hangman for pirates to exist.”
“Don’t you mean that the other way around?”
“Well, I suppose it works that way too, but I mean what I said. To exist… we pirates need the hangman. If there was no threat of punishment, then none of the citizens would remain lawful; there would be nothing but pirates on the seas. The punishment is not for us, it is a symbol… it is a demonstration for the citizens to show them why they remain lawful. When a comrade goes to the gallows, we honor him.”
Evelyn found the explanation dizzying. She had taken several sips of the wine while Captain Howell had been rambling, and now she felt light headed, the loss of control Uncle Hank had warned her about.
“I think, m’lord, that I should retire for the evening.”
“You can drop that ‘my lord’ stuff now. I think we both know exactly what your position here is.” He winked. Evelyn was not at all sure she knew what he meant. “What is your name anyway?”
“Evelyn,” she answered, realizing that in the past five months he had never asked.
“Evelyn,” he said, sampling the word. “You can call me Captain, like everyone else in public. But in private, call me John — no, Jack is what my friends call me.”
We are friends now?
“Very well, Jack.” She drained the goblet and giggled. Slurring her speech, she added, “I really must go to bed now.”
She stood. He stood.
“First, you must prepare my bed.” With a smirk, Evelyn turned her back to him. She hummed and began to unfold the bunk from the wall. Fluffing the pillow, she became aware of his warmth close behind her. Gasping at the sensation of his presence, she involuntarily stepped back. His hands held her arms, and he pulled her further backward, into his chest.
“You will stay here, with me,” he whispered into her ear, “tonight.”
She sucked in a breath of air. A tightness formed below her belly. Not a painful cramp, but an oddly comforting sensation. He kissed the back of her neck. A new warmth flowed from her core, and every nerve ending on her skin sparkled. His hands drifted lower, and untied her rope-belt. Her pussy clenched again, and a drop of moisture began rolling down her leg. He dropped her breeches to her ankles, and she stepped out of them. His hands slowly caressed her body as they drifted up to her tiny breasts. He gently pinched her nipples until they protruded.
He unbuttoned her shirt. Pulling the material from her shoulders, this joined her pants on the floor. Nude, she sat on his bunk.
“Jack, you can have me tonight. You can have what you want most. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Thank you, Evelyn, but we’ve waited so long and I will see you to your uncle intact, as promised. However, I do have a new experience to give you.” He reached for his belt buckle. She watched as he opened his trousers. She looked up into his eyes as he released the buttons of his breeches and pulled them down. He placed his right hand behind her head. With his left hand, he lifted his shirttail. Firmly, he pulled her face toward his manhood. When his soft tip pressed against her lips, she took his swelling cock into her mouth.
As she had heard about the French Way from the prostitutes at the brothel where she cooked. She stroked his tip with her tongue while she sucked on him as though a piece of hard candy. Reaching between his legs, she cupped his balls in her palm, while two fingers caressed the puffy flesh between his balls and his butt hole. His erection swelled in her mouth.
“Did your sister teach you this as well?”
She could only hum a response.
Slowly, she pulled him out and licked his tip. Then, she sucked him back in. As his fullness approached, he gripped the sides of her head. Holding her face stationary, he began to pump his cock deep into her mouth, stretching her jaw as she kept her teeth away from his flesh. His tip pressed against the back of her throat.
He groaned as his twitching cock spewed inside her mouth. Evelyn swallowed it as the prostitutes had instructed. Still sucking, she licked him clean as his size diminished.
Pushing her onto the bed, he knelt between her knees. As the woman passenger on her Uncle’s ship had suggested, he was about to reward her. She held the back of his head as he burrowed his face into her mons. His tongue traced along her slit. Her arousal peaked when his tongue danced around her hot, pink opening. A magical sensation rippled through her lions. Diving his tongue into her tunnel, he sucked out her juice.
“Oh, please…” she pleaded.
His fingers found her clit, gently gripped it, and began a light twisting motion. When his tongue once again pressed inside her hole, Evelyn screamed as she came. Pressing herself into the bed, the aftershocks rolled through her. Slower, he continued to caress her folds as her pleasure waves subsided.
“Mm,” she purred and cuddled him.
“Evelyn, I will do as I promised and take you to New Providence, but I will not accept the ransom from your Uncle. I will give you away freely. However, have you considered that you might want to stay — stay freely with me?”
What? As a mistress, or a wife?
As she made no answer, he continued, “I don’t know what kind of life I have to offer you, but I do want to have you in whatever life I have?”
Eventually, he’ll be captured and hanged. They will hang me too. But, she remained silent.
“I understand that you can’t answer now, but I pray that you think about it.” He held her until they drifted to sleep.
A sunbeam awoke her; he was gone. Dressing, the sensation of his touch would not leave. Her flesh tingled with the memory of his caress; his kiss upon her lady parts. The tickling, squirming deep within her belly would not leave either.
THE END of this part, but PART NINE— From the Pan into the FIRE, continues the story.
I hope you enjoyed my story. Take a few minutes and read The Girl in the Attic, Stepsister Taboo, and Daddy’s New Sub.
Also, consider my short stories and books published on Amazon. Additionally, I write under the name Sterling Scott.
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Copyright ©2022 by Mark S. R. Sterling All Rights Reserved
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