behind
her, she’d be unable to fight him off if he decided to try something she didn’t
want him to do. But she had no doubt that she could stop him with a word.
Getting into the game, she pleaded, “Please, Captain. Don’t
tie me up. I promise I’ll do everything you ask. Everything .”
He chuckled. “Saucy wench.”
The length of rope flicked out, rasping lightly across her
ass cheeks. She gasped, more surprised than pained.
“You’ll do everything I demand anyhow, or I’ll see you walk
the plank.”
A delightful tendril of fear skittered up her spine, her
skin turning icy. Her nipples tightened into hard buds, from the cold, her
growing excitement, or both.
Rikard’s gentle hands placed the restraints around her
wrists, testing the fit and ensuring that her shoulders were not pulled too
severely. Then he wrapped the length of rope around the restraints, not tying
it, but letting the rough hemp brush against her wrists and forearms. Her mind
transformed the padded restraints into heavy loops of rough rope.
He circled around her, admiring her naked body. Gayle held
up her head and stood rigidly beneath his examination.
“Yes, you’re a proper lady. I can tell. But you’re my
prisoner now. I’ll break you of that soon enough, and have you begging and
moaning like the commonest of gutter trash.”
She tipped up her chin in defiance. “Never! I am a lady,
Captain. And nothing you do to me will make me less of one.”
He sucked in a deep breath, a slow grin lighting his face.
“I do love a challenge. But I can’t have you disagreeing with me. This is my
ship, and what I say goes. If one of my crew dared to contradict me as you’ve
done, it would be twenty lashes of the cat, until he learned to keep a civil
tongue.”
Rikard stalked closer, his gloved hand shooting out and
gripping her chin in a firm hold. She couldn’t pull away or twist out of his
grasp, but his fingers merely rested against her skin rather than digging into
her flesh.
“But I’ll forgive you this time, if you beg. Get down on
your knees and beg me not to whip you.”
Gayle stiffened her back, completely lost in character. “A
lady does not beg, Captain.”
He laughed, deep and low in his throat. “Right. It’s the cat
for you, then.”
Grabbing her by her upper arm, he dragged her over to a
waist-high bench, and bent her across it. He loosed the rope and unlinked the
wrist restraints, then pulled her arms out to the side, clipping the restraints
to rings at the top and bottom of the bench. Gayle tried to lift her upper
body, and found herself unable to move. She had never felt so completely
helpless.
Hot fluid gathered between her legs. When Rikard slipped his
booted foot between hers and kicked her ankles apart with a gentle nudge,
flattening her completely against the bench, a trickle of fluid coursed down
the inside of her thigh.
He moved away, returning a moment later swishing something
back and forth through the air with ominous snaps. Narrow strips of leather
trailed across her shoulder blades.
“This is the cat. Twenty strips of leather, each with an
edge sharp enough to rip open that delicate skin. And you’re getting twenty
lashes with it. You’ll be nothing but a bloody wreck from your graceful neck to
your sweet, tight ass. Sure you don’t want to beg?”
Gayle trembled. Rikard wouldn’t really slice her back open.
She remembered his desperate panic in the kitchen when he feared he’d hurt her.
But stretched across the bench, the lashes of the cat sweeping back and forth
across her quivering skin in teasing caresses, she had trouble believing she
was not at the mercy of a bloodthirsty pirate.
“Never,” she whispered.
“One.” The whip rose and fell, the tips of the lashes
flicking across her shoulder blade before the body of the cat smacked her upper
back.
Gayle cried out in shock and surprise. She hadn’t expected
he’d hit her with no warning. But it hadn’t hurt.
“Two.” The lash
her, she’d be unable to fight him off if he decided to try something she didn’t
want him to do. But she had no doubt that she could stop him with a word.
Getting into the game, she pleaded, “Please, Captain. Don’t
tie me up. I promise I’ll do everything you ask. Everything .”
He chuckled. “Saucy wench.”
The length of rope flicked out, rasping lightly across her
ass cheeks. She gasped, more surprised than pained.
“You’ll do everything I demand anyhow, or I’ll see you walk
the plank.”
A delightful tendril of fear skittered up her spine, her
skin turning icy. Her nipples tightened into hard buds, from the cold, her
growing excitement, or both.
Rikard’s gentle hands placed the restraints around her
wrists, testing the fit and ensuring that her shoulders were not pulled too
severely. Then he wrapped the length of rope around the restraints, not tying
it, but letting the rough hemp brush against her wrists and forearms. Her mind
transformed the padded restraints into heavy loops of rough rope.
He circled around her, admiring her naked body. Gayle held
up her head and stood rigidly beneath his examination.
“Yes, you’re a proper lady. I can tell. But you’re my
prisoner now. I’ll break you of that soon enough, and have you begging and
moaning like the commonest of gutter trash.”
She tipped up her chin in defiance. “Never! I am a lady,
Captain. And nothing you do to me will make me less of one.”
He sucked in a deep breath, a slow grin lighting his face.
“I do love a challenge. But I can’t have you disagreeing with me. This is my
ship, and what I say goes. If one of my crew dared to contradict me as you’ve
done, it would be twenty lashes of the cat, until he learned to keep a civil
tongue.”
Rikard stalked closer, his gloved hand shooting out and
gripping her chin in a firm hold. She couldn’t pull away or twist out of his
grasp, but his fingers merely rested against her skin rather than digging into
her flesh.
“But I’ll forgive you this time, if you beg. Get down on
your knees and beg me not to whip you.”
Gayle stiffened her back, completely lost in character. “A
lady does not beg, Captain.”
He laughed, deep and low in his throat. “Right. It’s the cat
for you, then.”
Grabbing her by her upper arm, he dragged her over to a
waist-high bench, and bent her across it. He loosed the rope and unlinked the
wrist restraints, then pulled her arms out to the side, clipping the restraints
to rings at the top and bottom of the bench. Gayle tried to lift her upper
body, and found herself unable to move. She had never felt so completely
helpless.
Hot fluid gathered between her legs. When Rikard slipped his
booted foot between hers and kicked her ankles apart with a gentle nudge,
flattening her completely against the bench, a trickle of fluid coursed down
the inside of her thigh.
He moved away, returning a moment later swishing something
back and forth through the air with ominous snaps. Narrow strips of leather
trailed across her shoulder blades.
“This is the cat. Twenty strips of leather, each with an
edge sharp enough to rip open that delicate skin. And you’re getting twenty
lashes with it. You’ll be nothing but a bloody wreck from your graceful neck to
your sweet, tight ass. Sure you don’t want to beg?”
Gayle trembled. Rikard wouldn’t really slice her back open.
She remembered his desperate panic in the kitchen when he feared he’d hurt her.
But stretched across the bench, the lashes of the cat sweeping back and forth
across her quivering skin in teasing caresses, she had trouble believing she
was not at the mercy of a bloodthirsty pirate.
“Never,” she whispered.
“One.” The whip rose and fell, the tips of the lashes
flicking across her shoulder blade before the body of the cat smacked her upper
back.
Gayle cried out in shock and surprise. She hadn’t expected
he’d hit her with no warning. But it hadn’t hurt.
“Two.” The lash
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