Chained Cargo

  Chained

  Cargo

  Lesley Owen

  Copyright of Lesley Owen Author 2012

  All rights reserved

  The right of Lesley Owen to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  Published by Vamptasy Publishing

  Cover Photograph from stock

  Designed by Nicola Ormerod

  To Georges for Marie-Gabrielle

  1. Antigua to Dominica

  2. The Espadon

  3. Guadeloupe to Green Island

  4. The Exchange

  5. Parnham

  6. Antigua to Jamaica

  7. Port Royal

  8. The Battle for The Angustias

  9. Return to Antigua

  10. The Storm

  11. Grenada to Cayenne

  12. Seven Years Later

  Chained Cargo

  1. Antigua to Dominica

  In the captain’s cabin of the Scorpion, a naked woman was pulled up on to her toes and spread-eagled by two heavy iron slave bars. Each bar was four feet long with loops at each end for her ankles and her wrists. A taught chain from the centre ring of the upper bar ran through a large ring in one of the cabin’s roof beams and was secured to a wall timber. The woman had been left waiting for some time in the hot and stuffy atmosphere and she was nervous; beads of sweat ran down her body.

  The door opened and a tall imposing woman entered, tossing her black leather three cornered hat on to a nearby chair. She was dressed in a long black velvet coat and matching pants, which were tucked into black thigh boots. She always wore black; the only exception was her white blouse under her jacket with its frilly front. She was in good shape, strong for her nearly forty years and well-proportioned for her six feet. Her long greying hair was held in place by a black scarf wrapped around her forehead and tied at the side. She had an attractive face, but it bore the signs of hardship.

  She approached the naked woman. “Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes. You’re the buccaneer Captain Quinn; captain of the Scorpion.”

  “What else do you know?”

  “That you’re a ruthless thieving pirate. And they say…they say that you’re a lesbian.”

  Quinn caressed one of the woman’s breasts, then her nipple. “That’s all true, but I like men too. Do you know anything more about me?”

  “They say that you like to whip women.”

  “Ah! They say that do they?” Quinn moved around the woman and caressed her backside. “Well that’s true as well. But I usually prefer to watch - a habit I picked up in prison. So I suggest that you answer all my questions.”

  Quinn returned to the woman’s front and her nipples. “You’ve got a nice body, nice large tits, nice arse; it interests me. Your nipples are hard now. How old are you?”

  “Twenty three.”

  She ran her hand up and down the woman’s stomach; the woman trembled.

  “What’s your name?”

  “S…Sarah.”

  “Have you been with many men? Or women?”

  “No, but I’m not a virgin.”

  “My men tell me that you come from the De Moncey plantation on Guadeloupe?”

  Sarah’s breathing was getting quicker. “Y…yes I work there as a governess. Oh please...”

  “You must know Danielle de Moncey then?”

  “Yes, I work for her.”

  “Ah! Why were you in St John’s and not back on Guadeloupe?”

  “I was sent to pick up a wedding dress.”

  “So all this about a wedding on Martinique is true?”

  “It’s common knowledge on Guadeloupe. It takes place in a week’s time at the Saint Louis cathedral, Fort de France.”

  Quinn was now standing close at Sarah’s side, her legs astride her outstretched thigh. She caressed the woman’s nipples once more with one hand and her backside with the other.

  “So when does the family leave?”

  “W…when I left I was told that the departure would be several days in advance, ready for the preparations. Please… I’ll tell you everything!”

  “I know you will Sarah. For now all I need to know is when they’ll leave, the name of the ship and who’ll be on board.”

  Quinn’s hand had moved down from the woman’s nipples and was now exploring between her legs.

  “Oh! Oh please! The ship’s the Espadon and it was due to leave Point à Pitre this morning!”

  “Carry on.”

  “Françoise de Moncey will be aboard. That’s all I know! Oh please!”

  “Are they going directly to Martinique?”

  “I think they have to stop at Dominica for some of the family! Oh! Her father Pierre de Moncey came with me to Antigua and then went over to St Kitts. I think he’ll meet them over there. Oh please!”

  “Is that a ‘please stop’ or a ‘please continue’?”

  She trembled and panted. “Please stop!”

  “But you’re wet. You like feeling helpless and exposed like this don’t you?”

  “Please…”

  “If I continue to caress your cunt you’ll come, won’t you?” Sarah did not reply and looked away towards the window. She was now shaking in her bonds. “Well, you’ve been a good girl. Kiss me and you can come.”

  Sarah turned and opened her mouth to Quinn’s. Quinn’s hand worked her crotch and she shuddered and grunted as they kissed. She pulled her mouth away and yelled as she came.

  “Aaaaah! Oh! Oh! Captain Quinn!”

  “You liked that you young slut.”

  “Oh! Please! Don’t stop! You can whip me if you want to...”

  “Not so fast. I’ll slacken your chain and leave you for a while. I must tend to the crew. I’ll send in a man to amuse you for a while.”

  Captain Jacqueline Quinn left her cabin for the quarter deck. Quinn’s real name was Christine Cartwright, who in her twenties had suffered many years of hard labour at the French penal colony off French Guiana. Her years there had left their mark and had made her tough. She had also served many years under the buccaneer Captain John Booth and had learnt her pirate trade well. She now commanded a crew of fifty on her ship and was an excellent captain, well respected by her all male crew.

  It was late morning and the Scorpion was under full sail surging through the Caribbean between Montserrat and Antigua. Standing next to the helm was Quinn’s First Mate, a huge negro called Fletch. Black as ebony and all muscle, he was nearly seven feet tall and towered above his captain. He was an escaped slave from a plantation in Barbados and had been Quinn’s right hand man from the start. His notorious reputation was wide-spread. He was extremely strong and a cold blooded killer - but amongst pirates he was renowned for his huge cock. It was rumoured to be a good twelve inches long and as thick as a woman’s wrist.

  Quinn turned to Fletch. “The girl has told me that the daughter of count Pierre de Moncey is aboard a ship called the Espadon. Have you heard of her?”

  “Aye cap’n. Iz remember her. She used to be the British gun brig HMS Hardy, a square rigger taken by the French two years ago. Sheez smaller and less well armed than us. Crew thirty tops.”

  “Excellent! She left Pointe à Pitre this morning bound for Martinique. The race is on! Let’s try and take her before she gets to Martinique! It’s a fine morning Fletch and we’re making good progress. With this wind we should reach Basseterre Guadeloupe by this evening.”

  “Weatherz good cap’n - sea smooth. If we push during the night weez could be reachin’ the north point of Dominica by mornin’.”

  Quinn called over to Tom Swift, her quartermaster who was mid-ships. “I’ve some fresh flesh for you in my cabin Tom! Give her a light whipping with a single-
tail and see if she knows more about the Espadon’s cargo. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  Swift needed no encouragement. “Aye, aye captain! If thems your orders! Nice looking wench!” He passed the captain grinning, picking up a length of rope as he went.

  Tom Swift was a handsome man in his early thirties. He had deserted the Royal Navy at English Harbour, Antigua some years previously and had joined the Scorpion after spending a heavy night in bed with Quinn in an inn. He was known to be favoured by the captain and she often availed herself of his services.

  As quartermaster Swift was in charge of distributing supplies, delegating work, as well as guarding and dividing plunder. He also maintained order - when discipline or punishment was necessary, only he or the captain could usually give it. Swift also helped decide which ships were worth attacking and often led any boarding party, ultimately deciding what loot to keep.

  The rest of the Scorpion’s crew were a mixture of no goods that had moved from ship to ship, but most liked being on the Scorpion, she was profitable.

  Quinn turned and yelled to the crew. “It’ll be double rations of rum for all tonight if we make Pointe Noire before sunset!”

  The crew cheered.

  Quinn looked thoughtfully at the imposing shape of the volcano Soufrière on Montserrat looming to their port side then turned back to Fletch with a grin. “I’m feeling good on this one! You’ll both dine with me in my cabin tonight and we’ll discuss plans.”

  The Scorpion was now making a good eight knots south. Pointe Noire would be ten hours away, providing the conditions held.

  The Scorpion had a colourful history. She had once been the Diligente, a twenty gun corvette of the French Navy. Built in Brest around 1670, she had been the lead ship of her class and was particularly fast and manoeuvrable. During her long service she had once served as a slave transportation ship before being refit and reintegrated into the French Navy. Originally armed with six-pounder guns, she was rearmed with heavier guns and now sported, twenty eight-pound carronades along her sides and four eighteen-pound guns, two to her stern and two to her bow, giving her a sting to her aft and forward. A few years previously she been taken by the buccaneer Captain Booth and given to Captain Quinn as a gift for good service. The Scorpion was an ideal pirate ship, at less than a hundred tons burthen, with a seventy foot keel and weather deck twenty wide, she needed only a small crew to man her.

  Quinn was deep in thought. “The Espadon’s likely to stop at Roseau overnight Fletch. Let’s hope she lingers longer. If she stays another night we could board her in the harbour without firing a shot. Let’s hope we get lucky.”

  “That be the best way cap’n. I know youz wants this bad.”

  “Yes Fletch. These people owe me for what they did. We’ll take the girl and anything else. The ransom will be high. But you know it’s the mother I really want. I want revenge for those six years on Île Saint-Joseph.”

  Back in the captain’s cabin Swift had whipped Sarah with a short single tail whip and she was slumped exhausted and drenched in sweat in her irons. Her head hung down, her face covered by her clinging wet hair. She breathed rapidly as if she had just been running, but the reason for her exertion was evident, her body was covered in thin crimson stripes.

  Quinn entered and moved over to hold Sarah’s drooping head between her hands. She wiped the wet hair from her face.

  “Well Sarah how does it feel to be whipped?”

  Sarah looked up at Quinn defiantly, with anger in her eyes.

  “You didn’t need to whip me! Anyway, I’ve been whipped before.”

  “By Pierre de Moncey?”

  “Yes - often - and by his friends.”

  “Ah! How was she Tom?”

  “I wasn’t too hard on her and she took it well. I think she was ready for it. She told me about a large dowry of gold and jewels.”

  “That’s interesting. Anything else?” Quinn caressed Sarah’s breasts just as she had done before.

  “It seems other family members may be on board or joining the ship.”

  “Very interesting!” Quinn’s hands moved down Sarah’s stomach to her pubis. Her fingers probed her crotch crease once more. Sarah moaned, but Quinn continued. “Well you didn’t want me to stop earlier young girl and you’ve a nice wet cunt again.”

  Sarah shivered in her irons. “Oh captain! Look I’ve told you everything I know!”

  “Alright. You’ve been a good girl. As a reward Swift is going to fuck you now - my orders. So enjoy it, he’s good.”

  Swift moved a table to support Sarah’s backside, pushing it so she could sit on its edge, her legs dangling. He removed the leg iron. Quinn moved over to the other side of the cabin and took out a small cigar from a box by one of the ships rear windows. She lit it and turned to watch as Swift started to neatly tie Sarah’s ankles to her wrists and then her elbows to her knees. Her legs were now spread wide open, her backside supporting her on the edge of the table.

  Swift ran his fingers around her open crotch. “She’s really wet and open now cap’n!”

  He unfastened his britches and his cock sprung out and erected to its full extent within seconds. He was big and he slid it into Sarah, who offered no resistance. She stared over towards Quinn with a defiant expression on her face.

  Swift started to shaft her hard as Quinn calmly puffed her cigar, fixing her gaze on Sarah’s.

  “Well Sarah how does it feel to be tied up and fucked?”

  Sarah said nothing.

  “Slap her cunt a little Tom. She’s too docile.”

  Swift retracted and brought his hand down hard on her vulva. A loud slap rang out. Sarah gasped, but continued to stare back at Quinn. He repeated the action several times and she started to yell and writhe in her bonds. Swift started shafting again. This time Sarah’s eyes were pleading.

  “Oh captain!”

  “That’s better; your cunt needed some encouragement. Did Pierre de Moncey fuck you?”

  Swift stopped and slapped her several times again. Sarah closed her eyes and moaned this time.

  “Yes! Yes! I couldn’t stop him. He’s a wicked man. He likes women slaves, both white and black.”

  The shafting continued, but Swift was ready to come. He pulled out his cock and squeezed it, coming over Sarah’s belly. Then he moved away to let Quinn replace him in front of her open legs. Quinn smacked her cunt hard several times and Sarah writhed and cried. Quinn then rubbed her clitoris hard. Sarah screamed as she came and Quinn’s hand slid inside her.

  “Keep coming my young whore. Let it out. I know what Pierre de Moncey was like.”

  Sarah came at least three times with Quinn’s hand, Quinn then moved then away.

  “Take her down to the middle deck Tom and put her in a slave yoke. She can stay there for the time being.”

  2. The Espadon

  The following afternoon as the Scorpion approached the Dominica capital Roseau, they spotted the Espadon anchored off shore. Quinn was delighted and decided to anchor in Woodbridge Bay about a mile to the north. She sent the dory and a small party ashore to find out more about the Espadon’s movements.

  Swift took charge of the boat and took it into port. A number of ships were docked and the quayside was busy with the unloading of exotic goods from other neighbouring islands and the loading of cocoanuts and fruits from Dominica. Swift stayed with the boat for safety and sent the rest of his men to look out for any of the Espadon’s crew in the many taverns along Bay Street. Sure enough they found some worse for drink in the inn La Guinguette. They engaged conversation over rum and soon discovered that the Espadon was waiting for another passenger from St Kitts. She would not sail until the following day. Swift and his party returned to the Scorpion.

  Quinn was delighted at the news. Sarah had spoken the truth and they were in luck. They could board the Espadon that evening after dark.

  As soon as it was dark enough, the three row boats were lowered from the Scorpion: the dory and gig from the weather
deck and the aft dory. Quinn, Swift and Fletch would command each boat and take ten men in each. Armed with pistols, knives and cutlasses, they set off towards the Espadon. They were expecting most of the Espadon’s crew to have gone ashore and only a light night crew to have remained, but they were not taking any chances.

  The three boats glided silently through the black inky water towards the Espadon’s rear. The overhang of the aft of the brig would hide their arrival. All three boats made it unseen to the Espadon’s rudder and two ropes were thrown over the taffrail below the main cabin. Completely hidden from view on board, the first six men climbed up, led by Fletch and Swift. Hanging from the rail they split into two groups and made their way around to the port and starboard sides, then through the first gun port that would lead them to the main deck. Once on deck, they moved forward silently, hidden in the shadows. Another six followed until two dozen were aboard. Quinn came up last leaving six men to man the boats below.

  There were only four men on watch on the main deck and they had been knocked out and tied up by the first wave of boarders. They now split into three groups to check the three lower decks. The lowest deck and middle deck were empty, as was the forward berth-deck. There only remained the aft berth-deck with the officers and the captain’s quarters. Swift’s group made its way systematically through the berth-deck cabins and three officers were surprised and overwhelmed. In one of the cabins they found Françoise de Moncey in her nightdress, getting ready for bed.

  Quinn’s group entered the captain’s cabin where they unexpectedly discovered the mother Danielle de Moncey. She was naked kneeling on a chair with her hands on the top of its back and her back arched and arse sticking out. She was being fucked from behind by a naked young officer, her large breasts swaying freely. At the sound of the pirates entering, they both froze, the man’s cock still inserted.