A Captive of Chance (12 page)

“You god damn, worthless dogs! Kill him,” shrilled Heartless Hal to his crew.

“Now this is just a suggestion from the man holding a knife to your cock but you might want to try saying ‘please’,” said Chance in a charmingly helpful tone that was in sharp contrast to the dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I will kill you myself,” spit out Heartless Hal. “I will hunt you down and kill you.”

“I’m afraid you would be joining a very long list of people who want me dead,” mused Chance.

With a swift movement, Chance raised his arm and slashed Heartless Hal’s throat. As the man fell to his knees, clutching at the bleeding mortal wound, Chance ground out in a menacing tone, “You were a dead man the moment you touched her.”

Wiping his knife off on the dead man’s tunic, Chance turned to the man’s crew. “Anyone else have a problem with me collecting what’s mine?”

The men collectively shook their heads ‘no’ as the rest of the crowd of pirates quickly dispersed, none willing to take on “Le Chanceux”.

Belle threw herself into his arms, clutching at his neck. Chance wrapped a strong arm around her waist and buried his hand in her hair, holding her close.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered against his shoulder.

“I know,” he soothed. “You will still be severely punished for running away from me,” he warned.

Belle nodded her head in assent. She would take any punishment he gave her if he would only bring her back to the safety of his cabin.

“But first, you need a bath,” mused Chance. “Why is it, wench, that every time you try fleeing from me you manage to find the most disgusting filth to roll about in?”

Belle just smiled as she burrowed closer to his chest.

* * *

It was not long after, Belle found herself naked in his cabin. She sunk down into the hot, steaming bath water with a sigh. Chance sauntered over, holding out to her a small glass.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Rum. Drink it up like a good girl. It will warm your insides.”

He laughed as Belle coughed and sputtered after tossing back the liquid in one gulp.

“It’s like drinking fire!” she exclaimed.

“Well, I did say it would warm your insides!” teased Chance as he poured another. “Again.”

With a petulant look, Belle obeyed, gingerly sipping the harsh liquid this time.

Chance returned to the table and sat down. Pouring himself a generous portion of rum, he watched as Belle washed away the day’s horrors. Pensively, he picked up one of the discarded chess pieces from the other night. Twirling it between his fingers, he finally let himself think of the possibility of losing her. After learning of her escape, Chance refused to even consider the possibility of never seeing her again while he searched. Now that Belle was safe and secure in his cabin, Chance thought about how the very thought caused a sharp, clutching pain in his chest.

Always assuming once he had his fill, he would ransom her, that option was no longer possible. Somehow, his little spitfire had gotten under his skin. He was not letting her go anytime soon. Her escape still troubled him. Forgetting he was essentially her captor not just her seducer, it rankled him she would try to leave him.

“Why, Belle?” His voice was low and husky in the quiet cabin.

Belle had no desire to answer him. No desire to tell her white knight pirate she had fallen in love with him, afraid his response would break her heart. If she never said ‘I love you’, he could never hurt her by laughing at her foolish female heart for falling in love with a pirate.

Belle stood up in the bath, feeling the water silkily slide down her wet skin. Boldly facing him, she held out her hand. “I’m not the only one who needs a bath, pirate,” she said saucily.

Her diversion worked. Chance took one look at her wet skin as it glowed a soft, warm caramel in the candlelight and his cock raged to life. Swiftly burying any thought of unwelcome emotion, Chance focused only on her body. Slowly rising, he stripped off his linen shirt, exposing the patchwork that made him look so beautifully savage.

“You’ll need another one once I’m done with you, wench,” Chance said with a wink as he stripped off his britches and stepped into the large tub with her

Chapter Ten

Her Punishment

Belle had been pacing the small confines of the cabin for hours. After waking to find Chance gone, she had sprung into action with nervous energy. The cabin was still in disarray from the storm, so she carefully returned all the various nautical tools, maps and books to their respective shelves. She righted chairs and picked up his clothes. When that was done, she took an old shirt and dusted and cleaned. It occupied her time and gave her a small sense of satisfaction as the space became neat and tidy.

Belle had even taken time with her appearance. Using his comb and a small piece of twine she had found, Belle arranged her hair in a becoming up-sweep. Putting on one of his clean, linen shirts, she cinched his belt tight to emphasize her tiny waist. This time, she did not try to cover her long, lean legs with a pair of his britches. Biting her lips and pinching her cheeks to give them some color, Belle surveyed the results in his small shaving mirror, chuckling ruefully at her reflection. Well it was not rosewater, pearls and silk but it was the best she could do!

Still she waited anxiously.

There was an awkward moment when the cabin boy entered to bring her something to eat. Giving her a sullen look, he quietly placed the tray on the newly cleared surface and tried to stalk away.

“Please, stay a moment,” Belle entreated. “I want to apologize for getting you in any trouble with your captain.”

The cabin boy rubbed his ass where Drake had belted him good for forgetting to lock the door. “You shouldn’t have done it. You made Captain very angry. I’ve never seen him so worked up,” he said, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the pain of his own punishment.

“I know. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused,” she offered shyly.

The boy nodded his head in acknowledgment and left without another word.

And still she waited.

Belle was in the middle of pretending to read a treatise on sea winds when Chance finally returned. The sun had long gone down, the cabin thrown into candlelit shadow. Hesitantly rising, Belle waited for him to speak. On a deeper level, he refused to acknowledge he was also angry at Belle for forcing him to come to terms with how he felt about her.

Chance took in the straightened cabin, the effort she made with her appearance and her submissive mood, but refused to be swayed. She had earned this punishment by defying him and placing herself in grave danger. He was determined to show his little captive had not softened him. He was a pirate, and it was time she was reminded of that.

“Take off your clothes and kneel on the bed,” he said gruffly.

“I just want to say again I’m sorry for…” whispered Belle.

“Enough,” yelled Chance with a slash of his hand. “I am not interested in your apologies. Do as I say.”

Knowing the punishment she had anxiously been dreading all day was finally here, Belle’s hands shook so hard she could not maneuver the heavy belt buckle. As she struggled with her task, a pair of large, tan hands enveloped her own. Pushing them out of the way, Chance unbuckled the belt and removed it from her waist.

“Thank you,” whispered Belle shyly.

She walked over to the bed as she quickly undid the buttons of his tunic, not wanting to make her punishment worse by lingering. Climbing on to the bed, she cautiously looked at Chance over her shoulder.

“On your knees,” he repeated. “Face forward and grab the headboard.”

Belle did as she was commanded. She could hear Chance rummaging through his trunks. It was driving her insane not knowing what he was doing. Was he getting the riding crop or would it be his belt again?

She started at the feel of his warm hand on the cool skin of her bottom.

“Do you understand why you are being punished?”

Belle nodded her head yes.

“Answer me.”

“Because I ran away.”

“No,” he answered, confusing Belle. “You are being punished because it is my will to punish you.”

Belle whimpered. She had hoped their night together would have softened his anger toward her but she was wrong. If anything, he seemed even more resolved to teach her a lesson, to remind her he was the captor, she, his captive, subject to his intentions.

Chance stepped away from the bed and removed his shirt. He didn’t want anything restricting his movement. Picking up the thin, bamboo cane, he stepped close till his thighs touched the bedcovers. Raising his arm, he brought it down with a sweeping arch.

Belle could hear the whistle of the cane seconds before it struck her skin. She shrieked in pain and fell flat on the bed, curling on her side. Looking up, she was surprised to see the small, thin object in his large hand. Surely that was not what had just struck her?

“What is that?” she whined.

“It is a cane. Prisoners who misbehave on a ship get caned. Now up on your knees,” he responded mercilessly.

“Please use your belt instead,” she begged as the sharp sting from the single blow started to settle in.

“You don’t get to choose your punishment,” growled Chance as he grabbed Belle by her up-swept hair and repositioned her on her knees.

Belle clenched her eyes and her bottom cheeks as she braced for the next strike. She did not have long to wait.

Once again, there was a scary whistle sound before the cane struck her vulnerable skin. Belle cried out and her thighs shook, but she remained on her knees.

Chance watched as the cane pushed into the soft flesh of her ass with each strike. First, there would be an angry red slash, the thin shape of the cane. Then a pink blush would slowly blossom around the edges. Soon there was a patchwork of crisscrossed lines over a deep, pink flush. Stroking the length of the cane, Chance could feel the warm surface knowing it was Belle’s own punished skin which heated it.

Belle bit her lip so hard she tasted the sick, metallic tang of blood on her tongue. Her fingers clung to the headboard so tightly, they were white. Every pulsing throb of her bottom sent another shiver of pain up her spine. The stinging blows of the cane seemed endless. Feeling like her skin had endured a hundred angry pinches, she begged him to stop.

“Please, I’m sorry. Don’t! Don’t,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

Chance ignored her pleas, warming the skin of her upper thighs with the same intensity as her ass. He did not stop till he could feel the heat radiating from her punished skin. Satisfied with the deep, red glow.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded.

Belle hesitated, staring at him with pain-filled eyes. Chance struck her once more across her bruised ass.

“Open your mouth,” he repeated.

Sobbing, Belle opened her mouth wide. Chance placed the hated cane across her lips. “Bite down on it,” he ordered. Whimpering, Belle obeyed, feeling the warm wood against the edge of her lips, swiping her tongue along the smooth, bamboo surface.

Belle was forced to hold in her mouth the very thing that just caused her so much pain and torment as Chance prepared her next punishment. Once again, she could hear him moving about the trunks in the cabin. Shivering with dread at the unknown, Belle moaned past her wooden gag as the pain in her bottom ebbed and flowed in hot, stinging waves.

Chance returned with a large, cylindrical piece of wood in his hand. In answer to the bewildered look in her eyes, Chance explained. “This is a handle from a ship wheel and I’m going to force it up your ass.”

Chance waited till his words cut through the fog of pain in her mind. He could tell the instant his words registered with her. Belle’s sapphire blue eyes turned a pale, bright blue with fear and agitation. Furiously shaking her head, she began to beg him through the wooden gag. Shaking his head, he removed the cane from her mouth.

“Oh god. You can’t. Please, please don’t put that in me!” she cried.

“You made a choice to defy me. This is the consequence.”

Belle stared at the handle in horror. It was at least nine inches long and three inches wide. It had a long, bulbous tip that narrowed over four, thick carved rings at the base.

“It’s not possible,” she whimpered in fear.

“I assure you it is,” said Chance, his voice low and determined. “Place your cheek against the bedding and reach back and pull open your ass cheeks.”

This was too much for Belle. Not only was he going to kill her by forcing that handle up her bottom, but he expected her to assist!

Shaking her head no, Belle started to shimmy backwards on her knees, holding up her hands in a placating gesture.

“No. I can’t.
You
can’t. Please stop this!”

Chance slowly stroked the smooth wood surface of the handle without even looking up at her. “Either return to your knees and do as I say, or you will receive this same punishment tied naked to my mast with all my crew looking on.” Chance had no intention of ever exposing her to such a degradation let alone another man’s gaze, but she had no way of truly knowing that.

Terrified at the threat, Belle scrambled to return to position. Kneeling, she placed her cheek on the bed, her bottom in the air. Gingerly grasping a reddened cheek in each hand, she pulled them open. Tears of fear and humiliation ran down her face. She had never felt so exposed in her entire life.

Chance looked at her tiny, puckered hole. Watching as it quivered and shook with each breath she took. Not wanting to permanently harm her, Chance generously coated the tip of the handle with salve, also running two salve-coated fingertips over her back entrance. He took in the sight of the slightly dark pink skin surrounding her entrance as it glistened from the salve.

Belle let out a long, plaintive wail the moment she felt the unrelenting push of the handle against her hidden passage. She tried squeezing the tiny entrance tightly closed but that only seemed to make the pain worse. Slowly, she could feel her muscles relent and open as the wooden object forced its way inside her body.