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THREE
While I was
held tightly by two men, I watch in horror as, one by one, members of the tribe
were executed. I screamed as my son was
shot in the head and lay dead at my feet.
For more than an hour the slaughter continued until only five other
young women and myself remained alive.
We were
lined up in a single file and stood while ropes were tied around our
wrists. We were then put in coffle with
rope around our neck and, at the urging of whips, began marching through the
jungle. A glance back revealed the camp
blazing with the dead strewn about in the center ground. I sobbed in despair as my final vision was of
my dead son, resting with the other tribal people.
For more
than an hour we marched through the undergrowth, frequently prodded by a rifle
butt or whip to move faster. I could
hear some of the women in front of me crying softly as we marched and struggled
to hold back my own tears. What fate
awaited the six of us I didn’t know but I was sure that it would not be pleasant.
Finally we
reached the beach and I was startled to see a sailing ship anchored a few
hundred yards off shore. A two masted schooner, it seemed a relic of the past. We were shoved into a large row boat that had
been pulled up on the beach and sat silently as the men began rowing toward the
larger ship.
A large
cargo net was swung over the side of the ship and the six of us were thrown
into it. Unceremoniously, we were lifted
high in the air and swung onto the deck of the schooner. After disengaging myself from five sweating
bodies, I stood and surveyed my surroundings.
My hands were still tied behind my back and I wanted very much to cover
myself. I decided that modesty was
simply a state of mind and so I thrust my body forward defiantly at the same
time a cabin door opened and a large man strode onto the deck.
He was
huge! His arms that protruded from a
dirty white T-shirt were as big as my thighs!
His face was almost hidden behind a black, bushy beard but his black
eyes were like knives that penetrated my very soul. He adjusted an equally dirty Captain’s hat on
his head and stared at the six of us for several long minutes. I had never felt more naked than when his
eyes covered me from top to bottom.
“The name’s
Hawk! Captain Hawk!” His words were lost on all but me as my
companions stared at him curiously.
Sensing that, he directed his eyes toward me.
“Where are
you taking us?” I cried, boldly.
“To the
slave markets, whore!” he bellowed. “I
expect you will draw a pretty penny, compared to your negra
friends here!”
“You are a
monster!” I shouted. “Killing poor innocent people! You despicable ,
loathsome. . .”
My head
snapped back as his hand struck my cheek with all of his strength. My vision blurred as tears formed in my eyes
and I felt a trickle of blood seep from the corner of my mouth.
“Shut your
mouth, whore! You will learn your
station or suffer the consequences!
Shark, teach these slaves what happens to those who resist orders!”
Tamara was
the first of us taken and lashed to the main mast. She looked back in terror as the man called
Shark unfurled a black bull whip and positioned himself a few feet behind
her. His arm shot forward and the
leather band seemed to uncurl in slow motion, burying itself between Tamara’s
shoulder blades. She screamed in agony
as a vivid red welt suddenly sprang up where the whip had touched her.
Again Shark
struck with the whip and once more Tamara screamed in agony as her body surged
forward against the mast. Another red
welt appeared parallel to the first and she shook in a frenzy of pain while
sobs echoed from her throat.
A third
lash crossed the first two and Tamara threw back her head and shrieked the most
unearthly cry I have ever heard. Sobbing
uncontrollably, her body sank and she hung suspended by her wrists. One of the crewmen untied her hands and she
collapsed to the deck, curled in a fetal position while continuing to wail her
distress.
Uta was
next and she started screaming the instant they began to tie her arms around
the mast. Her cries continued unabated
as she received three strokes of the whip and fell to join Tamara on the deck.
Down the
line they moved, each girl being lashed to the mast to receive three blows of
Shark’s whip. I was the last in line.
As my hands
were being tied while I hugged the wooded shaft, I heard Captain Hook’s orders.
“Turn this
one around! I want her to see it
coming!”
I was
turned with my back against the mast and my arms raised high over my head where
they were tied to a hook above me. I
glared defiantly at the Captain as Shark unfurled his whip.
I can’t
describe the incredible pain of a whip against bare flesh. My vision blurred into a red haze while I
clinched my teeth; determined not to give these slavers the benefit of my
torment. I wondered if my flesh had been
torn as the leather snaked around my waist, leaving a vivid trail of pain in
its wake. My legs began to shake and my
breath came in huge gasps. I had barely
recovered when the second stroke buried itself across my thighs. My legs collapsed beneath me and I swung
limply by my wrists. Sweat poured from
my body and I found it almost impossible to fill my lungs with air. Snot dripped from my nose and I shook my head
in astonishment that something could hurt so much.
What I
found was that the first two strokes were simply a prelude to the real
agony. The third found my quivering
breasts and I was certain that my nipples had been ripped from my body. My resolve disappeared and my screams echoed
throughout the ship. I lost control of
my bladder and pissed all over my legs and the deck. I shook my head frantically waiting for the
pain to dissolve. When my hands were
released, I fell to my hands and knees, unable to stand. My breath was coming in gasps. My hair hung down over my face as I cupped one
hand against my injured tits, sobbing despairingly.
“Crawl, bitch! Crawl over here and hug my leg!”
My brain
was swimming in a pool of suffering as I, without thinking, began to crawl
across the deck, mewling like a sick calf.
When I reached the Captain’s boots, I wrapped my arms around his lower
leg and hugged him with all of my strength.
My reaction, I later realized, was like a punished child attempting to
gain favor with her father.
“Get these
slaves to the cages!” the Captain shouted, as he kicked me away. I felt hands grabbed me under my arms and
lift me from the deck. I was dragged to
a hole in the deck and sensed that I was being lowered. Another set of hands took me by my hips and
carried me a short distance where I felt myself being placed inside a metal
contrivance. At that point exhaustion
overcame me and I passed out.
LATER
The metal
contrivance, as I found when I awoke, was a steel cage; no more than three feet
square and six feet long. Stacked one on
top of the other, they were the quarters for slaves. If you were unfortunate enough to be beneath
one or more of the cages, as I was, you were the receptacle for all bodily
waste of the ones caged above you. A
glass container affixed to the end of the cage was equipped with a straw
through which I was able to drink rank water.
We were handed pieces of hard bread and tough, stringy meat once each
day.
The first
day of our captivity we were taken to the ship’s blacksmith where we were
outfitted with steel bands around our wrists, ankles and throat. Small rings attached to the bands were joined
by lengths of chain that connected our wrists and ankles. The ring was removed from my nose but those
hanging from my breasts were left in place.
The chains were an additional reminder that we were slaves and would be
treated as such.
For thirty
minutes twice each day we were allowed on deck to parade around to the
accompaniment of hoots and jeers from the crew.
Our job was to scrub the deck with small brushes while Shark encouraged
us with a riding crop. Mindlessly, I
labored like a robot; memories of that awful whip still fresh in my mind. Days passed without significant change and
the six of us were soon submissively conditioned to our adversity. Although several of my companions were
sexually assaulted during the brief stay on the deck, I, fortunately, was
spared of this degrading experience.
Over a week
into the voyage toward our destiny of slavery, I was summoned in the middle of
the night from my cage by Shark.
“Cap’n wants to see you!” he remarked as I extricated myself
from the cramped quarters of my cage.
Someone above me had pissed all over my back and Shark hosed me down
before leading me up a ladder to the main deck.
I was led to the Captain’s room where I found him sitting in a large upholdstered chair.
He was completely naked.
I stared at
him indifferently although I was taken aback by the amount of body hair
covering his immense body. Nestled
between his fat belly and huge thighs was a thick cock.
“Come here,
whore!” he shouted, spreading his thick legs apart. “I need servicing!”
The thought
of taking that cock in my mouth was so repellant, I shouted back without
thinking.
“Go fuck
yourself!”
His face
turned red as he stood up from his chair.
“You will learn not to defy me, slave!
Shark!”
He must
have been listening at the door because he entered the room immediately.
“Aye!
Aye! Captain!”
“Haul ‘er! And make sure
the rest of those bitches watch! I’ll
show them not to disobey!”
Shark
jerked me around and pulled me out of the Captain’s quarters and onto the main
deck. I was half pulled, half dragged
over to the main mast where the chain connecting my wrists was looped over the
hook high over my head. I expected the
whip again but Shark left me hanging there for the rest of the night.
As dawn
broke, I heard a commotion and, looking over my shoulder, I saw my companions
being led up on the deck. They were soon
joined by most of the crew who stood in a semi-circle around me. Shark came and unhooked my wrists from the
mast. He had a long length of rope that
he used to tie one end around the chain binding my wrists and the other end
around the chain binding my ankles. With
several of the crew following, I was manhandled to the bow of the boat and
watched as Shark threw the length of rope across the bow and into the
ocean. I instantly felt a tug against my
wrists and ankles and turned to stare at Shark in surprise.
“Say hello
to my relatives,” he grinned as he gave me a shove. Stunned, I felt myself falling off of the
ship and into the water.
The rope
tightened and I was stretched taut against the hull of the ship as the waves
pounded against my body. Slowly, I felt
myself being pulled across the hull by my feet.
The rough wood and barnacles cut into my flesh but I was only aware of
my inability to breathe. Panicky, I
struggled to hold my breath as long as I could while I continued my journey
across the bow of the boat. Just as I
reached the point where I could hold it no longer, I felt my feet clear the
water and soon I was hauled back up on the deck, gasping and retching.
Before I
could recover, the rope yanked against my feet and I was over the side once
again. I inhaled a lung full of air as
best I could but the force of the waves beating against me knocked much of it
out of me. An eternity passed before my
head broke above the water and I was hauled up again on the deck, gasping for
breath.
Once more I
felt the tug against my wrists and I screamed as I dove over the side of the
ship and began my third journey across the hull. I fought and struggled to no
avail as the water hammered against me and my body scraped against the rough
surface of the ship. I have no
recollection of my final passage until I came to lying on the deck, puking up
salt water. At that point, I would have
fucked and sucked every man on that ship. Anything to avoid
another trip across the hull. Instead I was carried to the bowsprit and
lashed to the bow just a few feet above the water line. Each dip of the bow sent water spraying
across me as the ship sailed onward. For
the entire day, I spent as the maiden of the bowsprit, puking and retching
until I hung exhausted at day’s end.
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