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.
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