-DISCLAIMER- I'm not a famous author or anything, but I hope that you will go ahead and read my story!
-DISCLAIMER- This story will eventually involve adult/mature content - heuheuheu~…
Questions? Comments? Feel free to message me! In advance, this is a story about pirates. It has nothing to do with AC or POTC, but it was inspired by an RP that I did with an old friend once... Ah, the glory days! Either way, I hope you all enjoy it!
"Oi mate! Looks like we missed the sweetest thing in the shop ova 'ere!" Says the first of the two grimy men who broke into my family's bakery, pointing at me. Even more unsettling than the previous statement is how they were dressed. They seemed to bathe less than most of the drunken homeless folk around the village. Another addition to their strange demeanor was their dress. Both of them wore tattered garments, and one man, the older of which, even seemed to have a couple teeth knocked out and long, jagged scars on his arms that appeared to be the result of a cutlass, perhaps.
"Come 'ere, little missy. You'll make ah fine treat for tha young masta' tonigh'! He always seems ta fancy the younger ones... Heh heh heh..." The second, older man says as he grabs my arm and pulls me away from my widowed father.
Poor Father. Just trying to keep us fed, he was. Mum died two years ago of what the others have been calling the Plague of Tyranny. Funny thing, it is. Seems to only be hittin' the mothers in the town... I was all he had left. Mum wasn't lucky enough to have any other children, not besides I.
Although, I wasn't much help to Father. I'd mostly spend my days on the pier to watch the fish frolic about. I regret it now, and wish I had spent more time baking with him... Either way, he was always so nice to me. He always would tell me how I was as gorgeous as mum, how much I looked like her.
I have my mother's build. I guess you could say that I eat too much of Father's sweets. I have my mother's grey-blue eyes that change with the sky and wild blonde hair that I keep in a rebelliously messy bun, contrary to everyone's nagging at me to keep my wild mane concealed within a boring bonnet. I've always been teased for my chest - since I've had one at least. All the boys in the market center called me "Melons"... Until I threw rocks at them.
"Ya 'ere me, lass?! Get yer lazy ass up!" His profanity jars me out of my daze as he yanks me away from Father's grip.
"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF ME!" I screech whilst I thrash about.
"Ooh, a wild one! Master loves those..." The younger man growls in my ear as he forces my hands behind my back, bounding them tight. Before I even have time to retort, he uses his dexterity to gag me, then bind my feet fast to each other. I make restricted screams behind the gag before one of the men gives me a good slap.
"SHUT YER WHORE MOUTH!" Commands the younger man as he blindfolds me, then hoists me over his shoulder and whisks me out of my warm home and into the cold night, where the large drops of tropical rain pelt us harshly. I hear the familiar sound of cobblestone turning into sand as he runs onto the beach... Which is accompanied by the sound of cannons. I feel hot tears flood my eyes and soak into the fabric that is hindering my vision.
"Knock the lass out and put her in the large starboard cell... you know the one," says a new voice. I try to protest in anguished screams as my blindfold becomes increasingly hot and salty with my tears. I'm flung onto the ground, accompanied with the thuds and clangs of other bags hitting the wet sand. Now I'm sure of what they are: Pirates. The bags are filled with stolen food and valuables, no doubt. When I least expect it, I get bashed on my head, feinting almost immediately.
I wake up on a worn wooden floor, my bondage ((not that type, pervert)) completely gone. In front of me, a glass of wine with a loaf of my father's bread, and beyond that, hefty metal bars with a buff and salty man watching me.
"Master said for me to welcome you to the Stargazer. As the name might imply, we only pillage at night. He said for you to eat, too," The brawny man says with his arms crossed.
"I don't drink." I defiantly state crossing my arms and pouting. The man shrugs and walks back up to what I assume is the storage area. Above that is probably the sleeping quarters and kitchen, then above deck, then the captain's quarters.
I look around at the other cells. It seems that I am the only prisoner here, and the rest of the cells are not as nice as mine, nor do they look as clean.
I then gaze around my own. It has a corner sectioned off with a curtain and what seemed to be a wardrobe hammered into the floorboards next to it. Is that area for changing maybe? In the center is a pile of blankets for me to sleep in. They look pretty plush, especially considering the fact that all the other cells are empty and only house one porthole, whilst mine houses two.
I quickly eat the bread. I'm famished from the chain of events that has happened to me. Halfway through, I feel a migraine begin to course its way through my head and nape.
Contrary to my earlier refusal to drink the alcoholic beverage, my thoughts waver. Maybe it will help to numb my migraine (I'm assuming it came from getting bashed last night when I was kidnapped.)
As soon as I begin to drink the red liquid, I spew it from my lips and begin to gag and cough from it's horrible burning sensation. Needless to say, my coughing fit has worsened my migraine. Its foul taste burns into my throat.
"How... Do they drink this?" I murmur dryly. My head continues to throb, so I wrap myself in some of the blankets from the pile and lay in the rest.
I've only been asleep for about an hour when I hear the sound of heavy boots plodding down the stairs. Thank the saints that my migraine has subsided, or else that sound would be hell.
Who I would see next would astonish me forever.