Many thanks to Literotica author 'englander1961' for her help, editorial services, encouragement and a title much better than my original, which has elevated her to the status of House Goddess of Sexy Story Titles. Effusive thanks to Holly, the beloved and erotic Sister Decadence for her encouragement, editorial review and kind words. Thanks to Literotica author 'KY ridgerunner' for the stories that planted the idea in my head months ago.
After you've read this, if you have any inclination at all to comment, please do so, either by email or on the comment board... The best way for me to grow and improve as an author is to hear from the people who read my work.
I welcome constructive critiques and non-abusive comments. I will answer, in at least a semi-prompt manner, any email that comes with an email address.
If you feel you must respond in a hateful or angry fashion, you may put your head down upon your desk and do so, quietly to yourself, for as long as you feel it necessary. This story may not be copied to other sites without my permission.
If you have not read the earlier installment(s) of this tale, it would probably help you to make sense of this one if you did so.
* * * * *
The Captain woke up briefly as he was once again washed. Two pair of hands rinsed his body with warm washcloths and with love. He drifted back to sleep.
* * * * *
He came to for a moment as either Twat or Mounds shifted position, curled up next to him on either side. Sleep reclaimed him.
* * * * *
He woke up, carefully crawled out of his bunk, not disturbing his sleeping crewmates and went to the head, then caught a shower. As he dried himself, his stomach rumbled so ominously he could hear it over the rain outside.
He headed for the galley and proceeded to make sandwiches, salad and a pitcher of iced tea. Piling his provisions on a tray he carried them back to his cabin to awaken his bunkmates and see to their feeding.
"By God's Grace, Cap'n, you're a good man," said Twat, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I was dreamin' of food an' with me appetite for sex that means I'm starvin' to death."
"Aye," said Mounds, "I seem to remember a dream of floatin' islands of roast beef on a gravy sea. Me thinks I was about to start chewin' a pillow."
"No need for ye to be damagin' my beddin'," said the Captain. "So tuck in afore I have to be gaggin' ye anytime ye be near me bedsheets."
"Might not be a bad thing, Cap'n," said Twat.
"Dependin' on what you'd be gaggin' us with," added Mounds.
"I swear ye daft bitches'll be the death o' me yet," he said. "But lookin' at the two of ye, well, there be worse ways to go, if ye take my meanin'."
The three happy shipmates ate their picnic on the Captain's bunk as Twat filled the Captain in on her and Mounds' plan to give the Second Mate the same treatment as Twat had had.
A shower for the girly types later, it was on.
* * * * *
"Now ye won't be getting' the full effect, bein' as ye know it's comin'," said the Captain as he gently worked the 'mystery' back into her ass. "But we'll do our best to be makin' it a memorable experience for ye anyway."
Mounds would've answered in a somewhat appreciative manner except for her bound state; stretched the length of the bed and beyond, feet to the braced whipping post, hands to the headboard, blindfold on and ball gag in place. But at least she writhed a bit and it looked like she meant she'd appreciate the effort. Or perhaps that was just her enjoying the 'mystery'.
Twat, eager to test a theory she had, brought in a rose and gently scratched the inside of one of Mounds' thighs with a thorn. The bound woman twisted and turned within her restraints, moaning with pleasure.
"Cap'n darlin', it seems that Second Mate Mounds likes just a bit of the pain."
The Captain leaned close to his Second Mate's head and bit her earlobe, gently.
"Moan once if you be likin' a bit o' pain, Mounds, twice if a fair amount, thrice if a goodly amount, four times if ye be likin' rough trade and five if we should keelhaul ye to get ye your jollies."
"Mmmmmm."
"Ah, so one moan it is... well, that be good to know."
Taking the rose from Twat, he slowly and gently dragged it down Mounds' back, watching her twitch.
Then he and his luscious First Mate loaded the hookah and proceeded to smoke a bowl, making sure to blow plenty at the face of the restrained Mounds.
Twat began to lightly scratch Mounds with her nails, all over her body, taking special care to note what spots got the most reaction while the Captain sucked and licked at her toes.
"Ye see Twat," he said, in-between bouts of molesting his Second Mate's feet, "something tells me, almost like a message in a bottle from another life mayhap, that this saucy bitch be havin' very sensitive feet. It's almost like I was rubbin' 'em once, in another time and place, and she had the most amazin' response. Seemed to get her all hot an' bothered."
Mounds squirmed and seemed to be agitated.
The Captain returned to his task, sucking her toes into his mouth as he ran his tongue around them, rubbing on the soles as he licked and kissed the tops and the ankles, always returning to her toes.
The Second Mate seemed to have a fever, she was shaking so.
"Alright Twat, time to let her stew a bit."
And with that they turned her onto her back. First Mate Twat, facing the head of the bunk, positioned herself on all fours, with her juicy-sweet directly over Mounds' blindfold. Then the Captain pulled the blindfold out of position just a slit so that the helpless victim could see, and slid his cock into Twat directly over her face. They were so close to her that on occasion the bottom of his ball sack brushed the tip of her nose as Mounds' two malicious bunkmates began to fuck just inches above her, the sights and sounds and smells so close and yet so far away. The frantic whimpering began deep in Mounds, down near her cunt, and made its way up, gathering strength the whole way. She lay beneath the lovers, quivering like a leaf in a stiff offshore breeze and making a sound like a starving beast begging for food.
The Captain continued to slowly fuck his First Mate, pulling almost all the way out on each back stroke, then back in with a soft squishing noise. Minute after minute after minute it continued, a quarter hour passing, slow and languorous, a hedonistic revel, a half hour approaching, lost in every feeling of the act, savoring each stroke as it's own celebration of their love.
"Oh Cap'n sir, don't ye love fuckin' for a captive audience," Twat purred. "Makes the whole thing more sexy like."
Mounds, straining against her bonds, desperate to join in the fun, might have described it differently.
"Me knows what ye mean, Twat," replied the Captain, "it's all I can do to keep from pullin' out of ye and spillin' me seed all over her tits."
"MmmmMMmMMmmmmm!"
"Oh Cap'n darlin', don't be doin' that, let me have it all, don't be wastin' it on that poor dear below us."
That put the Captain over the edge and from below Mounds could clearly see each contraction, each convulsion of his balls as he came into Twat.
The First Mate's own climax was but a second or three behind and then she was grinding her crotch into his, the sexual energy crackling between them like a summer storm at sea, all mere inches above the helpless Second Mates staring eyes.
She would get them for this! She would throw them both, naked and bound, into the prison in Port Royal! She would lash them to the sides of the ship and let the dolphins fuck them! She would sell the two of them out to the French!
Or she'd make sure the Captain found out what this felt like and then she'd come up with some new and exquisite torture for that traitorous bitch, Twat!
The Captain pulled out and dribbled on to Mounds' face. She felt him get off the bunk.
Twat bent down and licked up what had dribbled. She put a hand into her crotch and brought it out, covered with both her and the Captain. She wiped a thin patch of it beneath Mounds' nose.
