Rescued by the Buccaneer Read Online Free

repercussions if she didn’t.
    He caressed her pussy with broad strokes before entering her with one finger.
    She squirmed under his grip.
    “Be still!” he said in a menacing voice and slapped her bum hard.
    She stopped struggling and began to relish the incredible sensations brought on by his ministrations. Her breath came faster and she noticed her hips bucking to meet his imposing fingers.
    “I knew ye were a little whore, I did.” he said, removing his fingers and setting her upright. “Take off your clothes.”
    “I beg your pardon?” she asked, disoriented by the surreal situation.
    “You heard me!” he howled.
    Frightened, Frederica began to unfasten her dress. She soon stood in her undergarments, staring at him as he retrieved a leather strap hanging on the wall.
    “All of ‘em.” He smacked the strap on the edge of the bed, causing her to shriek with fear.
    Hurriedly, she slipped off her petticoats and stood, naked and shaking in the middle of the floor.
    “Lie down on the bed and hold still,” he said in a menacing tone.
    Frederica lay on her back, certain he would rape her. She screwed her eyes shut tightly, preparing for the worst.
    Whoosh! She heard the strap before she felt it, then the hard leather struck her breasts. He flicked the torture implement over her torso with an expertise that told her he’d done this before, and the gleeful little sounds coming out of his mouth told her he enjoyed it.
    He stopped once to grope her breasts; rough, awkward hands fondled them, flicking her nipples until they grew hard. Then he pinched the little nubs and pulled them away from her body, stretching them until she cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. To her dismay, she felt her pussy growing wet, and she wondered how her body could possibly respond to such a vile man.
    “Open yer legs,” he commanded.
    Too scared to disobey, she inched them apart.
    “That won’t do, wench.” He forced her legs wide apart and brought the strap down on her swollen pussy lips.
    “Ahhhhh!” Her body rose up in the bed and she screamed with all the air in her lungs.
    “Ye can yell all ye like—there’s no one to save ye,” he chortled, and she felt as if the devil himself had taken hold of her. “I said hold still. If ye can’t do it, I’ll clap ye in irons again and keep ye in ‘em.”
    “No, sir. I’ll be still,” she said, wishing her bottom lip would stop quivering.
    “Such a pretty little cunt ye got there,” he crooned as he thrust his finger in and out of her wet opening, then brushed another over her delicate little button. She refused to give in to the pleasure that threatened to overtake her like an ocean swell. Biting her lip and clenching her fists, she hoped to shut out the delicious sensations that were making her squirm despite herself, but the more she tried to squash her arousal, the more it intensified. Writhing under the captain’s attentions, Frederica realized that she had no control over her body in this situation, none whatsoever. In a final effort to resist, she shut her eyes and tried to remain silent.
    Soon her body tensed, her muscles coiling as tightly as a cobra preparing to strike. Then to her shame, she succumbed to the pleasure-filled waves that washed over her in a crescendo of sheer bliss, moaning in spite of herself as an orgasm racked her body for long moments. But while her climax had been physically satisfying, it made her furious that her captor could be the source of such enjoyment.
    To her great horror, he climbed on top of her and thrust his lower half against her satiated pussy. She closed her eyes and prayed it would be over soon.
    Humphrey grinded his pelvis hard over hers, his groans turning to curses before he finally climbed off her and threw the leather strap across the room. “Damn me. Blasted war wounds,” he mumbled to himself, then looked at Frederica scornfully. “If only I could, I’d give you the rutting you deserve, ye wicked