The Pirate and the Noble

Olive crossed her legs and leaned back on her bed, undressing her captive with her eyes. The girl tied up on her floor seemed young and vulnerable, but certainly not unattractive. After a few weeks at sea, what would be the real difference between this girl and one of the younger whores at her favorite brothel? Surely nothing significant.

She smiled sweetly at her. "Are you hungry, dear? I can get us some dinner."

Lorraine-Simone looked frazzled, as her long, pretty white hair was coming out of it's elaborate style. Curls were falling into her face and onto her back. Yet, despite her hair and her torn dress, she looked unimpressed with the happenings. As if, at some point she'd realized this would happen, and had already mentally prepared herself. She did not seem scared.

"I doubt you have anything I'll eat," she replied in heavily accented English. Despite her almost inability to pronounce the words, the grammar was good. "I'm picky."

She wanted to fix her hair and clothes, but she didn't suspect the other woman would untie her.

"You'll eat because you'll die otherwise," she said, kneeling before her and tousling her hair. "Picky sailors starve, love."

"Fine," she replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "I don't care, really. Dying, being a captive...whatever, it's better than being married off."

She sighed loudly and angrily, looking away from Olive.

She pinched her cheek affectionately. This girl certainly was cute close up; she just looked like she could use some teasing to bring the color back to her cheeks.

"If you're a good girl and you eat up, I'll give you a treat. I'm first mate, you know--I can do that."

She looked at Olive, even though she didn't want to.

"...there's nothing you have I want," she replied, though it sounded more like convincing herself than anyone else.

She leaned forward, staring straight into her eyes. Then she kissed her on the cheek, fueled by a sudden impulse.

"Are you sure about that, darling? I've got plenty that a lot of women want."

Lorraine-Simone stared at her, her expression shocked instead of simply bored. Then, she narrowed her eyes.

"I do not know what you are implying, but it is certainly nothing I want!" she replied fiercely, looking away from her. "I will not eat."

She laughed.

"Then if you won't eat, why not make yourself useful?" She played with her disheveled white curls. "You've got a mighty pretty face...that's not something we normally look for when we're hiring a crew. This ship is starved for pretty faces."

She was still glaring at Olive, her blond eyebrows pulled tight over her blue eyes.

"I still do not know what you are implying, but I don't care! Leave me be, you...filthy pirate."

"Tell you what," she said, standing and stretching. "I'm going to get something to eat. If you're a good girl and you clean your plate, I can promise I'll be nice. If you don't...I can't promise anything."

She laughed loudly. "Sound reasonable?"

"...fine," she replied hotly, but she promised herself she wasn't going to eat everything.

She disappeared behind the door to her room, returning an hour later with a bowl of something grey and mushy-looking.

"Is the princess hungry now?" she teased, kneeling before her.

"I ache, untie me," she demanded immediately. Lorraine-Simone was sick of being tied up. This was not like her fantasies, she didn't like it. In that hour, her hair had completely come out of its style, and frizzy curls poured around her, so long they pooled on the floor.

"Eat, and I'll consider it," she said, petting her head and holding up a spoonful. "Here comes the ship!..."

She opened her mouth and swallowed the food, but barely. Lorraine-Simone thought she was going to die.

"Wh...what did you feed me?!" she shrieked, frowning deeply. "I don't...I don't want anymore!"

"Sticks to your ribs, doesn't it?!" she laughed. "Come on, eat some more--it'll keep you strong."

"It will make me fat!" she gasped, as if she wasn't already. Her breasts were large, and her stomach had a bit of fat on it. Unfortunately, her hips had almost none, leaving her very apple shaped. "I...no, I won't eat it!"

She tried to move away, but found it difficult because her breasts were in constant danger of popping out of their very tight, very low cut neckline.

"If you don't eat it, you'll starve and die," she insisted, moving the spoon toward her mouth. "Come on now--don't you remember what I said about finishing your dinner?"

Lorraine-Simone took a deep breath and ate the spoonful and swallowed, but it made her want to die. She groaned loudly.

"Please, I'll do anything...no more," she insisted, feeling her stomach churn.

"Come on, you have to finish it--it does a body good. I promise you--just finished a bowl myself."

"No, I..." she shook her head again, before she heard a violent ripping noise. Horrified, she quickly bent over, in an effort to hide the tear. She knew the bodices her father made her wear were too tight, the old bastard! She hoped her curly hair covered her breasts. "M-may I get a change of clothes?!"

She smirked, and put down the bowl of food.

"I might have something that'll fit you...but first, we should get you out of that, right?" She the girl's cheek with a hand roughened by hard work.

She shook her head rapidly.

"No, no, I'll stay here, really, if you untie me, I can change!" she insisted, her entire face red. She wanted to die of embarrassment.

"Sure, sure," she said, moving her hand down to her chest. "I'll be glad to untie you and help you undress."