| Straight: BDSM: Pirate's Loot (1/6) |
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I clung to a rope and felt my body heaved up and down. Up and down. In the midst of the motion, I felt almost weightless. Somewhere between the up and the down, I was really defying gravity, flying, eternally falling. My hair had escaped its loose braid, of course, as I knew it would, and I let it whip across my face. It made me feel like an old-movie heroine to stand there like that on the prow of the great ship. It was romantic and foreign. Standing still, my hand wrapped around a length of rope attached to some important rigging, my feet braced apart, my hair whipping as it tends to do in high wind, my eyes fixed on the hidden horizon, I was a princess. Or perhaps a lovely captive. There was no difference on a pirate ship. Somewhere behind me, Mathias stood at the wheel, gently steering the ship to keep it from capsizing. The storm was stronger than we had suspected. Radio announcements had predicted a catastrophe before all of the equipment went dead. I wanted to shout into the rain and wind. Into the storm. But that was too cliché. I’d rather be boring than cliché. “Playing the mermaid?” Tobias asked behind me. He was shirtless. “Playing the whore?” I retorted, sassily. “My shirt got wet.” “How long do you think it will last?” I asked, ignoring his remark. “Come down below,” he said, ignoring mine. I looked down into the raging water beneath us. Should I jump? I lifted one foot and held it in midair over the water. Tobias said nothing. Perhaps he would push me. I tried to see something in the darkness. I imagined that there were dolphins below, or swordfish. They fought each other with their stout snouts. Stab. Push. Cut. One would arise victorious to taste the sweet calmness of open water alone. I puckered my lips and spit into the sea. “Fuck,” I said in a normal tone. I didn’t even hear myself. When a ship is threatening to turn over, it is best to not be on it. But if you are on it, you should at least hope that someone else is thrown over first. There is no general reason why. It doesn’t lessen your chances of falling off or of surviving, especially in an October storm as this happened to be. But it gives you a glimpse of sure death, a peek at the chaotic mire of heedless weeds choking you, saving you. I should have fallen over. I should have been pushed. I should have jumped. I should have been saved from this, all of this. If I had, though, who would have done my job? I followed Tobias below deck. His back muscles rippled enticingly and I took in a generous eyeful. The water dripping off of his skin only intensified the erotic appeal of his half-naked frame. I licked my lips and swallowed. Now out of the rain, I looked down at myself. I was dripping too. Drip. Drip. Drip. If only I had been wearing a white dress. If only I had dark hair to cascade down it. Tobias picked up a clean towel from some drawer and tossed it to me. Taking one for himself, he kicked off his rain boots and peeled off his wet shorts and boxers. I licked my lips again and ran the dry towel over my body mindlessly. I had been wanting him for days, ever since I watched him beat |
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