“The two of you,” he said to Jean and the other crewman who stood there, “untie her and
bring her on deck.  Oh, you can leave her hands tied behind her.  And watch out for her
feet.  She may be barefooted but I'll bet she can kick a man pretty hard where he
does not want to be kicked.”

Lynnette was untied and taken out, each bare arm being held by a strong male hand. 
Captain Friend followed them up the stairs.  Several lanterns were lit around the deck,
and most of the crew was already there, awaiting the show.

“Untie her hands but tie them again in front of her,” he ordered.  “Then tie a rope to
them and hang her from that yardarm until her toes are unable to touch the deck.”

Many eager eyes watched as the proud woman was untied and changed to a different form of
bondage.  When the two men pulled on the rope they had tossed over the yardarm, Lynnette
was lifted off her feet until only the tips of her toes scrapped the wooden deck, then
another few inches after that.  There was a sigh of satisfaction rippling around the men.

“Now go below and bring up all the other women, one at a time.  Keep their hands tied but
put a noose around their necks.  Tie that to the railing there so that they have to kneel
down and face their leader.”

Again the crew watched as a dozen lovely young women were led up the stairs one by one,
and secured kneeling before them.  There were rough catcalls and crude comments hurled at
them, along with promises of what would be done as soon as the men were allowed.  Finally,
all twelve were kneeling, most looking frightened, but all defiant.

Captain Friend climbed to the poop deck so he could address the whole group.  He told
Jean to translate for the girls.

“Men, you are gathered her to witness the punishment of one of our prisoners,” he said in
a loud voice.  “She is guilty of disrespect to her new owners.”  He paused dramatically
for a few seconds.  Also to allow Jean to tell the girls what the crew had already heard. 
“She will be whipped.”

There was a murmur of satisfaction.  The crew loved a good whipping.  And these lovely
creatures would make fine victims.

He waited a few more moments, enjoying the look of disbelief and fear on the faces of
their captives.  The only one who did not show fear was Lynnette, hanging by her wrists
and the one who should show fear, if any.  It was her ass, after all.

“Mr. Swenson, you have the cat?”

“Aye, sir,” said one of the crew, stepping forward.  In his hand was a black leather whip
with nine thongs.  A couple of the women gave out gasps when it was brought into sight. 
He took up a position behind the hanging woman, and then looked up to his Captain for the
signal.

“You may begin, Mr. Swenson,” Friend said.  “Deliver thirteen strokes upon her bottom
only.  Space them out well.”

“Aye, aye,” replied Swenson.  The woman looked over her shoulders at the man with the
whip, nothing but contempt on her face.  It was almost as if she did not know how much
this was going to hurt.  His arm came back and the first stroke was on its way.

Lynnette came close to screaming, all in the audience could tell that.  Her body jerked
into an arch, her mouth opened, but she held back the scream.  Perhaps it was a matter of
pride, perhaps training, but she seemed determined not to scream for these men.

There was plenty of reason to scream.  All nine of the lashes had struck the bare flesh
of her bottom, each delivering its own venom in a stinging bite that left her ass
burning.

“One,” counted Swenson.

All could see short red lines forming on her smooth skin, each a trace of where a whip
had kissed.

When she was again hanging still, his arm came back and swung.  He put a great deal of
force into the second stroke as he wished to make this beautiful woman scream.

When they had other female captives, it had not taken much effort to make them scream,
just the touch of a real whip and they were whimpering and screaming and begging for
mercy.  This woman did not.

The second stroke also failed to evoke the desired sound effects.  Again her body jerked
violently and her feet kicked at empty air.  She looked as if she were trying to curl up
into a ball.  Her mouth was set in a determined line and her features were contorted by
the pain.  Yet she would not give vent to it with a scream.

More red streaks formed upon her skin.  All eyes were glued to that area, even those of
the captive maidens.  Some of them grimaced each time the whip cut into her behind. 
Perhaps they knew that it would be their turn one day.

The third stroke brought forth a gasp and a little half cry, half whine.  Sweat was
beginning to appear on her face and breasts.  Her hands were clenched into fists that
sprang open only when the lash hurt her bottom.

The fourth stroke again brought forth a whine, but no scream.  Captain Friend leaned upon
the railing to look down upon this unusual woman with interest.

It was the fifth stroke that did it.  This was not a mild spanking they were giving her. 
This was honest punishment designed to inflict a great deal of pain.  Welts were forming
all over her cheeks, each swollen and turning ugly colors.  The first strokes laid the
groundwork, the next delivered the real pain.  The cat-o-nine-tails was now being used on
flesh that was already swollen and painful to the touch.  The pain level rose a notch. 
And she finally screamed.

It came out despite her best effort to keep it in, a wail of agony, an animal cry of
pain.  Each of the kneeling Amazons felt her pain, too.  Had they not been bound,
certainly they would have leapt upon the pirates and attempted to kill them with bare
hands.

The rest of the strokes were delivered slowly and upon flesh turning dark with bruises
and swelling.  After the first time, Lynnette no longer tried to keep her cries within. 
She screamed and did not care who heard it.

And she danced.  Each time the whip struck her, she kicked wildly, a wonderful dance that
was so very nice to watch.  Unless you were one of the bound captives and wondering when
it would be your turn, that is.

“Twelve,” said Swenson.  Then he stood there, the whip hanging limply at his side, his
bare chest covered in sweat much as she was covered in pain-sweat.  For a long time no one
said anything, the panting woman who hung there with head bowed and flesh almost torn up
was a sight to behold.

But all good things come to an end.  “Mr. Swenson,” the captain called down. “Leave her
hang.  We have other affairs to attend to.”

“All night, Captain?”

“For a few hours.  I want her to think about this punishment.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

For a few more moments, Friend looked upon the hanging, suffering woman and felt the lust
within his heart and loins heat up.  Lord, but she was beautiful!  Even more so in her
suffering.  Gone was that haughty, proud look.  Instead she was a defeated, afraid woman
who knew she was in the hands of those who could and would hurt her more than she could
possibly endure.

Finally he came down the steps to the main deck.  Slowly he walked along the line of
nearly naked, bound women.  When he got to the end, he turned and reviewed each again. 
All male eyes were upon him with eagerness.  “This one,” he said, pointing to one of the
tall blondes.  “And this one.”  A brunette.  “And this one.”  The last was the only
redhead, the one who had stabbed one of his crew.

“Take these three to the galley.  The rest, take them back below and secure them for the
night.  Mr. Bethemy, you know how that is to be done.”

“Aye, Aye.”

Friend went to the galley ahead of his men and was waiting there when the first of the
women was brought in.

The tall blonde stood there, fearful, angry, and defiant, all at the same time. Well,
Friend thought to himself, we'll get rid of the anger and defiance before this voyage
is over.  The fear can stay.

“Get rid of that animal skin,” he told the man holding her.  When his hand reached for
her covering, she tried to avoid him, but her hands were still bound behind her and his
other hand held a fair grip upon her arm.  He pulled it off with a snicker.  As he tossed
it aside, she tried to kick him between the legs.

Fortunately he had been expecting something like that, and blocked it with his thigh. 
Then he grabbed her arms from behind and held her solidly with the girl facing the
Captain.  “What you want I should do with her, Cap?”

“Put her on her back on yon table.  Then tie her down right good.  Be sure you spread her
legs wide.”