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Pirate Captives (Powerone)


Pirate Captives by Powerone

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Pirates rule the high seas, plundering ships for their treasures. No treasure is more valuable than the succulent flesh of virginal women. “Pirate Captives” is the story of four women captured by Captive Stede, the most ruthless pirate plying the coast of the new world. Discipline is strict, submission is inevitable. The four women succumb to the pleasure of stringent bondage and sweet surrender. Follow their lives as they are sold to new Masters, taught exotic sexual perversions that only men could have conceived, women forced to perform to satisfy their Masters’ jaded lust. Another award-winning pirate novel from the author Powerone that brought you “Ravished by the Pirates.”

Product type: EBook    Published by: Renaissance E Books    Published: 7 / 2011

We do not recommend this book for readers under 18 years of age

No. words: 64900

Style: BDSM/Bondage - Content: Moderate -    Male Dom - M/F

Available Formats: Palm  MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  Sony Reader (LRF)  PDF  MS Reader  MS Word  Text  RTF  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle

Current all-time sales ranking: #1194


Excerpt..

CHAPTER 1
The Sailing

The water was calm, the wind barely blowing, but the Black Night skimmed the water as if the Devil possessed it. The sixty-ton sloop carried thirty men and eight guns, Captain Stede Bonnet in charge. The hold was almost full, the crew taking the ship back home to Nassau in the Bahamas to enjoy the success of their voyage.
The slim breeze blew hot the farther south they travelled, Stede looking through the spyglass at the horizon, the sun high up in the sky glistening off the flat water. He would have been just as happy going home with what they had already stripped from the three ships they had plundered and sank, but he would never give up a chance at one more.
“Southeast, ten degrees.” The lookout high up in the crows nest voice rang out. “About twenty miles out,” yelling out when no one else saw anything but blue water.
Stede turned in that direction, his eyes straining to see the three masts far off in the distance, barely discernable. Black Night was small and sleek, hoping that the other ship had not seen her. He turned to the pilot. “Keep our distance until the sun is ready to set. We’ll sneak up on her at night and attack her as the sun rises in the morning.”
The quartermaster was already on deck, called as soon as the ship was sighted. Quinn would lead the boarding party after the ship’s guns had disabled it. Quinn was as ugly as he was mean. Years of being the first one on an enemy ship had left him without an ear, a scar on one cheek and only two fingers remaining on one hand. He was second in command and feared more than Stede. He was, also, the one that divided the booty at the end of the voyage, so no one dared to offend him. “English by the looks, an East Indiaman, three masts. It should be easy pickings.” It was mainly a passenger and cargo ship but was able to defend itself against pirates. But, not against the Black Night. It was faster and the crew vicious in their attacks, the other ship never standing a fair chance.
“Have the crew up by two in the morning. I want everyone ready when the sun comes up.” Stede left him and went back to his cabin. The cells below deck were empty, Stede hoping to bring some female flesh back to Nassau. They were less than two days out from home where he could enjoy the women before he sold them at the auction.
* * * *
It was hot below the deck, but Abigail was tired of seeing the awkward and lustful stares of the crew. Captain Henry was the only gentleman aboard, the rest of the crew a band of rabble. Her dress clung to her bosom, stuck by the oppressive heat and lack of a breeze. There were four women on board as passengers and one older man, a pastor. All were travelling to Bath, the capital of North Carolina.
Jasmine was the Spanish girl, a little too hot blooded and flamboyant for Abigail, but she never judged anyone harshly. Jasmine had olive skin and a body that she flaunted in her tight-fitting clothes and always seemed to be flirting with the men. She was a couple years younger than Abigail, about twenty-five. She wore many rings on her fingers, but none of them looked to be a wedding ring.
Francine was travelling with the pastor, though they didn’t look like they were related. She was deeply religious, always a bible in her hand no matter where she was. She wore black since she boarded, staid dresses that were buttoned to her neck and down to her ankles, so loose you could barely tell if a woman was beneath it. She wasn’t beautiful but pretty. She was friendly enough, but her conversation always turned to God and salvation within short minutes of meeting. Pastor John was at least thirty years her senior. His hair was already graying, a slim build made him unobtrusive except when he spoke, then his booming voice would expound on the Lord’s work.
The only one that Abigail got along with was Prudence, her name fitting. She was barely eighteen and as innocent as they came, Abigail not even sure why she was travelling by herself. While Abigail was still a virgin at twenty-eight, she at least had knowledge of the world of men, loving to tease them with her body without giving them what they wanted. Prudence had a small face, innocent blue eyes that stared at you in wonderment, a cute little mouth with a big smile that men only dreamed of using in such perverse ways. She was tiny, barely five feet, but had a body of a grown woman: pert little breasts that pushed out her dress and full hips and buttocks that made men stare in lust. She listened to everything that Abigail said as if she were her older sister.
They were only two days out of Savannah, Abigail to meet her fiancé in Bath to plan their wedding. They had been betrothed for over a year, the wedding finally to take place early next month. He was an English gentleman, owning a plantation outside of Bath, rumored to be in the running for Governor of North Carolina in the next election. She was learning to love him, ten years her senior, but he would be a good provider and that is all she could ask for in the new land. There were so many uncouth men, rare to find a true gentleman that would take care of a lady.
Abigail was an “old maid,” twenty-eight and unmarried. She had met Thomas in Charleston, a mutual acquiescence inviting Abigail to a cotillion. He had swept her off her feet. He danced as if his feet were not even touching the ground, intelligent and educated. He wasn’t handsome, nor was he ugly, a little too tall and lanky. He courted her like a gentleman, visiting her at her friend’s house when Abigail came to Charleston to see him. He stayed at the same house in Bath, too far to go back and forth for a weekend.
They had kissed but not much else, though Abigail did love to tease him with what he would get once he married her. She still remembered that one night when she found out that he was not the gentleman she had thought he was, and she wasn’t the lady she tried to make him believe she was. It was two months ago when they were both staying at her friend’s house.
* * * *
They were going out to dinner that night, the last night before they both went home. Abigail was going to the bathroom to take a leisurely bath before she dressed. Walking down the hall, she thought she heard his door opening, but it was still closed, turning back to the hallway. She heard a click behind her, but she didn’t turn around, a shiver of excitement running up her back. The bathroom was empty, so she went in, closing the door behind her, but she made sure it didn’t close all the way. It was open about six inches, Abigail hearing another sound in the hallway. She went over to the bathtub, filling it with hot water. She took her time, looking back casually at the door, catching a glimpse of Thomas on the other side of the hallway, looking in the doorway. She turned back away from him, sure that he didn’t see her catching him.
She stood in the center of the bathroom, displayed prominently through the opening in the door. She had never done anything like this before, feeling so evil yet excited. She turned sideways to the door as she slowly began to loosen the ties that held the bosom of her dress together. She had a hard time not to smile as she teased him, slowly pulling out the ties one at a time as the dress slowly began to pull from her generous bosom. As she pulled the last tie out, she turned her back to the door, slowly lowering it down until her dress hung at her waist, her naked back revealed to the open doorway. Abigail looked down to see her nipples standing hard and erect without so much as a touch of her fingers. She held her breath as she turned sideways again, her shoulders pushed back, her back arched as she bared her breasts to the open door and Thomas’s wandering eyes. She looked in the mirror as she stood silhouetted to the door, her nipples growing harder at the touch of his eyes. She had to clench her thighs as she felt the rush of excitement between her legs as she stripped herself naked for her fiancé for the first time.
She brushed her hair in front of the mirror, feeling the shameful pleasure as her naked breasts bounced gracefully in full view of Thomas. Her long hair hung down over her breasts. She turned her back to the door again, this time working on her skirt, undoing the ties that held it at the side. She bent over as it slipped to the floor, stretching her buttocks to the door, clad only in her pannier as she picked up her dress and neatly folded it, her back still facing the door. She walked over to the bathtub, still an excellent view from the crack in the doorway, bending over as she felt the temperature of the water, her breasts hanging beneath her as she put her hand in the water. She stood up, her back to the door as she felt the rush of excitement between her legs as she let the pannier slip to the floor, the cool air blowing on her naked buttocks as she clenched her thighs together modestly. She never felt so shameful as she stood with her naked back to the door, revealing herself to Thomas from her naked back, buttocks to her legs revealed to his searching eyes.


Excerpt..

CHAPTER 1

The Sailing



The water was calm, the wind barely blowing, but the Black Night skimmed the water as if the Devil possessed it. The sixty-ton sloop
carried thirty men and eight guns, Captain Stede Bonnet in charge. The hold was almost full, the crew taking the ship back home to Nassau
in the Bahamas to enjoy the success of their voyage.

The slim breeze blew hot the farther south they travelled, Stede looking through the spyglass at the horizon, the sun high up in the sky
glistening off the flat water. He would have been just as happy going home with what they had already stripped from the three ships they
had plundered and sank, but he would never give up a chance at one more.

“Southeast, ten degrees.” The lookout high up in the crows nest voice rang out. “About twenty miles out,” yelling out when no one else
saw anything but blue water.

Stede turned in that direction, his eyes straining to see the three masts far off in the distance, barely discernable. Black Night was
small and sleek, hoping that the other ship had not seen her. He turned to the pilot. “Keep our distance until the sun is ready to set.
We’ll sneak up on her at night and attack her as the sun rises in the morning.”

The quartermaster was already on deck, called as soon as the ship was sighted. Quinn would lead the boarding party after the ship’s guns
had disabled it. Quinn was as ugly as he was mean. Years of being the first one on an enemy ship had left him without an ear, a scar on
one cheek and only two fingers remaining on one hand. He was second in command and feared more than Stede. He was, also, the one that
divided the booty at the end of the voyage, so no one dared to offend him. “English by the looks, an East Indiaman, three masts. It should
be easy pickings.” It was mainly a passenger and cargo ship but was able to defend itself against pirates. But, not against the Black
Night. It was faster and the crew vicious in their attacks, the other ship never standing a fair chance.

“Have the crew up by two in the morning. I want everyone ready when the sun comes up.” Stede left him and went back to his cabin. The
cells below deck were empty, Stede hoping to bring some female flesh back to Nassau. They were less than two days out from home where he
could enjoy the women before he sold them at the auction.

* * * *

It was hot below the deck, but Abigail was tired of seeing the awkward and lustful stares of the crew. Captain Henry was the only
gentleman aboard, the rest of the crew a band of rabble. Her dress clung to her bosom, stuck by the oppressive heat and lack of a breeze.
There were four women on board as passengers and one older man, a pastor. All were travelling to Bath, the capital of North Carolina. />
Jasmine was the Spanish girl, a little too hot blooded and flamboyant for Abigail, but she never judged anyone harshly. Jasmine had
olive skin and a body that she flaunted in her tight-fitting clothes and always seemed to be flirting with the men. She was a couple years
younger than Abigail, about twenty-five. She wore many rings on her fingers, but none of them looked to be a wedding ring.

Francine was travelling with the pastor, though they didn’t look like they were related. She was deeply religious, always a bible in her
hand no matter where she was. She wore black since she boarded, staid dresses that were buttoned to her neck and down to her ankles, so
loose you could barely tell if a woman was beneath it. She wasn’t beautiful but pretty. She was friendly enough, but her conversation
always turned to God and salvation within short minutes of meeting. Pastor John was at least thirty years her senior. His hair was already
graying, a slim build made him unobtrusive except when he spoke, then his booming voice would expound on the Lord’s work.

The only one that Abigail got along with was Prudence, her name fitting. She was barely eighteen and as innocent as they came, Abigail
not even sure why she was travelling by herself. While Abigail was still a virgin at twenty-eight, she at least had knowledge of the world
of men, loving to tease them with her body without giving them what they wanted. Prudence had a small face, innocent blue eyes that stared
at you in wonderment, a cute little mouth with a big smile that men only dreamed of using in such perverse ways. She was tiny, barely five
feet, but had a body of a grown woman: pert little breasts that pushed out her dress and full hips and buttocks that made men stare in
lust. She listened to everything that Abigail said as if she were her older sister.

They were only two days out of Savannah, Abigail to meet her fiancé in Bath to plan their wedding. They had been betrothed for over a
year, the wedding finally to take place early next month. He was an English gentleman, owning a plantation outside of Bath, rumored to be
in the running for Governor of North Carolina in the next election. She was learning to love him, ten years her senior, but he would be a
good provider and that is all she could ask for in the new land. There were so many uncouth men, rare to find a true gentleman that would
take care of a lady.

Abigail was an “old maid,” twenty-eight and unmarried. She had met Thomas in Charleston, a mutual acquiescence inviting Abigail to a
cotillion. He had swept her off her feet. He danced as if his feet were not even touching the ground, intelligent and educated. He wasn’t
handsome, nor was he ugly, a little too tall and lanky. He courted her like a gentleman, visiting her at her friend’s house when Abigail
came to Charleston to see him. He stayed at the same house in Bath, too far to go back and forth for a weekend.

They had kissed but not much else, though Abigail did love to tease him with what he would get once he married her. She still remembered
that one night when she found out that he was not the gentleman she had thought he was, and she wasn’t the lady she tried to make him
believe she was. It was two months ago when they were both staying at her friend’s house.

* * * *

They were going out to dinner that night, the last night before they both went home. Abigail was going to the bathroom to take a
leisurely bath before she dressed. Walking down the hall, she thought she heard his door opening, but it was still closed, turning back to
the hallway. She heard a click behind her, but she didn’t turn around, a shiver of excitement running up her back. The bathroom was empty,
so she went in, closing the door behind her, but she made sure it didn’t close all the way. It was open about six inches, Abigail hearing
another sound in the hallway. She went over to the bathtub, filling it with hot water. She took her time, looking back casually at the
door, catching a glimpse of Thomas on the other side of the hallway, looking in the doorway. She turned back away from him, sure that he
didn’t see her catching him.

She stood in the center of the bathroom, displayed prominently through the opening in the door. She had never done anything like this
before, feeling so evil yet excited. She turned sideways to the door as she slowly began to loosen the ties that held the bosom of her
dress together. She had a hard time not to smile as she teased him, slowly pulling out the ties one at a time as the dress slowly began to
pull from her generous bosom. As she pulled the last tie out, she turned her back to the door, slowly lowering it down until her dress hung
at her waist, her naked back revealed to the open doorway. Abigail looked down to see her nipples standing hard and erect without so much
as a touch of her fingers. She held her breath as she turned sideways again, her shoulders pushed back, her back arched as she bared her
breasts to the open door and Thomas’s wandering eyes. She looked in the mirror as she stood silhouetted to the door, her nipples growing
harder at the touch of his eyes. She had to clench her thighs as she felt the rush of excitement between her legs as she stripped herself
naked for her fiancé for the first time.

She brushed her hair in front of the mirror, feeling the shameful pleasure as her naked breasts bounced gracefully in full view of
Thomas. Her long hair hung down over her breasts. She turned her back to the door again, this time working on her skirt, undoing the ties
that held it at the side. She bent over as it slipped to the floor, stretching her buttocks to the door, clad only in her pannier as she
picked up her dress and neatly folded it, her back still facing the door. She walked over to the bathtub, still an excellent view from the
crack in the doorway, bending over as she felt the temperature of the water, her breasts hanging beneath her as she put her hand in the
water. She stood up, her back to the door as she felt the rush of excitement between her legs as she let the pannier slip to the floor, the
cool air blowing on her naked buttocks as she clenched her thighs together modestly. She never felt so shameful as she stood with her naked
back to the door, revealing herself to Thomas from her naked back, buttocks to her legs revealed to his searching eyes.


Excerpt..

CHAPTER 1


The Sailing





The water was calm, the wind barely blowing, but the Black Night skimmed the water as if the Devil possessed it. The sixty-ton sloop

carried thirty men and eight guns, Captain Stede Bonnet in charge. The hold was almost full, the crew taking the ship back home to Nassau

in the Bahamas to enjoy the success of their voyage.


The slim breeze blew hot the farther south they travelled, Stede looking through the spyglass at the horizon, the sun high up in the sky

glistening off the flat water. He would have been just as happy going home with what they had already stripped from the three ships they

had plundered and sank, but he would never give up a chance at one more.


“Southeast, ten degrees.” The lookout high up in the crows nest voice rang out. “About twenty miles out,” yelling out when no one else

saw anything but blue water.


Stede turned in that direction, his eyes straining to see the three masts far off in the distance, barely discernable. Black Night was

small and sleek, hoping that the other ship had not seen her. He turned to the pilot. “Keep our distance until the sun is ready to set.

We’ll sneak up on her at night and attack her as the sun rises in the morning.”


The quartermaster was already on deck, called as soon as the ship was sighted. Quinn would lead the boarding party after the ship’s guns

had disabled it. Quinn was as ugly as he was mean. Years of being the first one on an enemy ship had left him without an ear, a scar on

one cheek and only two fingers remaining on one hand. He was second in command and feared more than Stede. He was, also, the one that

divided the booty at the end of the voyage, so no one dared to offend him. “English by the looks, an East Indiaman, three masts. It should

be easy pickings.” It was mainly a passenger and cargo ship but was able to defend itself against pirates. But, not against the Black

Night. It was faster and the crew vicious in their attacks, the other ship never standing a fair chance.


“Have the crew up by two in the morning. I want everyone ready when the sun comes up.” Stede left him and went back to his cabin. The

cells below deck were empty, Stede hoping to bring some female flesh back to Nassau. They were less than two days out from home where he

could enjoy the women before he sold them at the auction.


* * * *


It was hot below the deck, but Abigail was tired of seeing the awkward and lustful stares of the crew. Captain Henry was the only

gentleman aboard, the rest of the crew a band of rabble. Her dress clung to her bosom, stuck by the oppressive heat and lack of a breeze.

There were four women on board as passengers and one older man, a pastor. All were travelling to Bath, the capital of North Carolina.
/>

Jasmine was the Spanish girl, a little too hot blooded and flamboyant for Abigail, but she never judged anyone harshly. Jasmine had

olive skin and a body that she flaunted in her tight-fitting clothes and always seemed to be flirting with the men. She was a couple years

younger than Abigail, about twenty-five. She wore many rings on her fingers, but none of them looked to be a wedding ring.


Francine was travelling with the pastor, though they didn’t look like they were related. She was deeply religious, always a bible in her

hand no matter where she was. She wore black since she boarded, staid dresses that were buttoned to her neck and down to her ankles, so

loose you could barely tell if a woman was beneath it. She wasn’t beautiful but pretty. She was friendly enough, but her conversation

always turned to God and salvation within short minutes of meeting. Pastor John was at least thirty years her senior. His hair was already

graying, a slim build made him unobtrusive except when he spoke, then his booming voice would expound on the Lord’s work.


The only one that Abigail got along with was Prudence, her name fitting. She was barely eighteen and as innocent as they came, Abigail

not even sure why she was travelling by herself. While Abigail was still a virgin at twenty-eight, she at least had knowledge of the world

of men, loving to tease them with her body without giving them what they wanted. Prudence had a small face, innocent blue eyes that stared

at you in wonderment, a cute little mouth with a big smile that men only dreamed of using in such perverse ways. She was tiny, barely five

feet, but had a body of a grown woman: pert little breasts that pushed out her dress and full hips and buttocks that made men stare in

lust. She listened to everything that Abigail said as if she were her older sister.


They were only two days out of Savannah, Abigail to meet her fiancé in Bath to plan their wedding. They had been betrothed for over a

year, the wedding finally to take place early next month. He was an English gentleman, owning a plantation outside of Bath, rumored to be

in the running for Governor of North Carolina in the next election. She was learning to love him, ten years her senior, but he would be a

good provider and that is all she could ask for in the new land. There were so many uncouth men, rare to find a true gentleman that would

take care of a lady.


Abigail was an “old maid,” twenty-eight and unmarried. She had met Thomas in Charleston, a mutual acquiescence inviting Abigail to a

cotillion. He had swept her off her feet. He danced as if his feet were not even touching the ground, intelligent and educated. He wasn’t

handsome, nor was he ugly, a little too tall and lanky. He courted her like a gentleman, visiting her at her friend’s house when Abigail

came to Charleston to see him. He stayed at the same house in Bath, too far to go back and forth for a weekend.


They had kissed but not much else, though Abigail did love to tease him with what he would get once he married her. She still remembered

that one night when she found out that he was not the gentleman she had thought he was, and she wasn’t the lady she tried to make him

believe she was. It was two months ago when they were both staying at her friend’s house.


* * * *


They were going out to dinner that night, the last night before they both went home. Abigail was going to the bathroom to take a

leisurely bath before she dressed. Walking down the hall, she thought she heard his door opening, but it was still closed, turning back to

the hallway. She heard a click behind her, but she didn’t turn around, a shiver of excitement running up her back. The bathroom was empty,

so she went in, closing the door behind her, but she made sure it didn’t close all the way. It was open about six inches, Abigail hearing

another sound in the hallway. She went over to the bathtub, filling it with hot water. She took her time, looking back casually at the

door, catching a glimpse of Thomas on the other side of the hallway, looking in the doorway. She turned back away from him, sure that he

didn’t see her catching him.


She stood in the center of the bathroom, displayed prominently through the opening in the door. She had never done anything like this

before, feeling so evil yet excited. She turned sideways to the door as she slowly began to loosen the ties that held the bosom of her

dress together. She had a hard time not to smile as she teased him, slowly pulling out the ties one at a time as the dress slowly began to

pull from her generous bosom. As she pulled the last tie out, she turned her back to the door, slowly lowering it down until her dress hung

at her waist, her naked back revealed to the open doorway. Abigail looked down to see her nipples standing hard and erect without so much

as a touch of her fingers. She held her breath as she turned sideways again, her shoulders pushed back, her back arched as she bared her

breasts to the open door and Thomas’s wandering eyes. She looked in the mirror as she stood silhouetted to the door, her nipples growing

harder at the touch of his eyes. She had to clench her thighs as she felt the rush of excitement between her legs as she stripped herself

naked for her fiancé for the first time.


She brushed her hair in front of the mirror, feeling the shameful pleasure as her naked breasts bounced gracefully in full view of

Thomas. Her long hair hung down over her breasts. She turned her back to the door again, this time working on her skirt, undoing the ties

that held it at the side. She bent over as it slipped to the floor, stretching her buttocks to the door, clad only in her pannier as she

picked up her dress and neatly folded it, her back still facing the door. She walked over to the bathtub, still an excellent view from the

crack in the doorway, bending over as she felt the temperature of the water, her breasts hanging beneath her as she put her hand in the

water. She stood up, her back to the door as she felt the rush of excitement between her legs as she let the pannier slip to the floor, the

cool air blowing on her naked buttocks as she clenched her thighs together modestly. She never felt so shameful as she stood with her naked

back to the door, revealing herself to Thomas from her naked back, buttocks to her legs revealed to his searching eyes.


Reviews

Good story. Entertaining sex and lots of it. Lots of potential for an interesting, enjoyable, imaginative, sexy sequel 5 out of 5 (MM)

Best Selling Books This Year By Powerone

Pirate Captives

Pirate Captives

Pirate Captives

Pirate Captives

Pirate Captives

Best Selling Books This Year By Powerone

Pirate Captives

Pirate Captives

Pirate Captives

Pirate Captives

Pirate Captives

Author Information

Powerone resides at the beach in San Diego where scantily clad females
forever perk his imagination.

A prolific, best selling author, he captivates readers by bringing them into the minds of both male and female lead characters. With vivid description and rich detail, Powerone draws readers
into a world often found only in fantasy and leaves them aching for more.

 


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