Disclaimer: It's not pornography, it's art :o)

Nonetheless, I warn youngsters, nuns, and recovering sexaholics to please forego this story. Readers: ye be warned.


It was all well and good to flirt with Captain Barbossa at the dirty Tortuga pub, even to kiss him and sit on his lap while all the surrounding pirates teased and made lewd comments, but when Elizabeth actually found herself alone in a bedroom upstairs with him, she hesitated.

"Listen… I don't know," she said uncertainly, holding closed what laces remained. "Captain, I should tell you…"

"I know the boy's had you, and I don't care," he answered. "Ye can tell him or not tell him about this, it don't matter to me. Elizabeth… it's just tonight. Are we clear?"

She thought about it a moment, then nodded.

"Good." He took off his coat and sat down on the bed. "Get rid of that dress," he ordered. "Now."

The next thing she knew they were tangled up together on the bed, naked, kissing and touching. She was having a fine time… until he put his hand down between her legs and began rubbing, hard.

She squirmed a little and complained breathlessly, "Ow – too rough."

He smiled peacefully down at her. "I don't care." She made a questioning sort of noise, so he explained: "I'm not pleasurin ye, you silly wench."

"Then wh-what…"

He shifted his hand so he could press a finger inside her. "I was a stable boy til I went to sea," he said, watching her face carefully. "And I learned y'always have to break an animal in afore you ride it."

Elizabeth's cheeks flamed up and she sputtered incoherently with outrage. Somehow, though, her body wasn't behaving. Despite his words… or perhaps because of them?... she was spreading her legs and arching up for him.

Not in the least surprised, he grinned and began working another finger in. "Otherwise ye won't be able to take what I want ye to take." After a long wriggly while he withdrew his hand and glanced down at it. "I like me whores very wet and swampy."

Finally she spoke up for herself. "I'm not your whore," she gasped, then squealed when he dove back in to touch her some more.

"No, perhaps not yet," he agreed. "But before tonight be over, you'll wish you were. Are ye ready?"

Ready? The question confused her; Will never asked whether she was ready and she had no idea what he meant, but it turned out not to matter. Forgetting her determination not to beg, all she could think to say was, "Captain, please…"

"Aye," he laughed, "The missie's ready." He positioned himself on top of her and smoothed her hair off her forehead so he could look her in the eyes when he breached her for the first time.

She gasped as a sudden rush of sensation washed through her – for some reason the image of a rainbow came to mind – and when he started to move it only got better. He went deeper and then shallower and deeper again, never quite leaving her body but only rubbing constantly over every inch of her insides.

At first she didn't stir, terrified to do anything that might disturb what he was giving her, but soon he would no longer allow this. He gathered up both her hands in one of his and pinned them over her head. "I'm not in the habit of beddin a corpse, Elizabeth," he growled. "Move – or I'll make ye."

He paused to see what she would do.

"But… but I… please," she whispered in confusion, with no idea what he wanted.

"Suit yourself – I warned you." Barbossa stabbed into her so fiercely she thought she might split open, hard and jerky thrusts as though he were wenching on a time limit.

"Oh!" She convulsed in panic, hips arching up off the bed… and somehow that gave her a burst of pleasure so powerful it took her breath away. She arched again, and again it happened. She realized it was because when she moved like that it allowed him to reach some new and special spot, and after that she couldn't seem to stop. She was excited beyond all reason at the idea that she was offering herself, all the way, helping him to take full possession of her body…

When Barbossa saw that she was moving as requested, he smoothed out his choppy rhythm into long hard strokes that rocked the bed against the wall. He let go of her wrists and put his hand to her cheek almost tenderly. "That's better, missie. That be how I like a girl to take it."

She whimpered, nodding, nothing in her mind save an overpowering need to feel and hear more. She reached for him, clinging to him, pulling his weight down on top of her, and murmured, "Yes, come on, please…"

He chuckled into her ear and kissed the side of her neck, then sat up and pulled back to his knees. He lifted one of her legs up over his shoulder and pushed slowly back inside her. She grabbed at the sheets by her sides, panting, eyes squeezed shut. He smirked. "Please what?"

"Please I don't know."

He tsked at her. "Elizabeth."

"Please… please have me," she begged wildly. She could hardly find words for what she meant. "Own me." Still not good enough, but suddenly another one came to mind. "Gut me."

"Mmm – that's a good girl." It was a nice change of pace to bed a literate, articulate young lady who appreciated the value of words and responded to them so beautifully… "You want me to wreck ye from the inside out," he growled, watching her breathing speed up still further. "Pound ye until there's nothin left to pound. In fact, missie… you want to be my whore." She was nodding furiously, flushed and sweating, so beautiful that he couldn't resist pressing her. "Say it."

"I… I want… I am your whore," she croaked. "Please…" He lowered her leg back to the bed and lay atop her again, but held off entering for a while. After a couple of deep breaths she finally located her vocabulary. "I am your prize and your property," she said quietly, raising her hand to his face and very proud that he turned to nuzzle into it. "Take me."

He wasn't sure he could wait any longer even if he wanted to. He drove into her, hard and fast.

Although she whimpered and pleaded and gasped yes, he was rabid with the desire to brand ownership into her even more clearly. He kissed her with bruising intensity on the lips, then wrenched her jaw open and spat into her mouth.

She licked her lips, shocked, and stared up into his eyes. They were half-closed, and she fancied she could see a lazy sort of contempt fighting for space alongside the obvious heat of passion.

"Captain…" she whispered, and then he really went to town on her. She was writhing desperately beneath him, but it felt so good that he didn't for a moment imagine he could take time to help her reach her pleasure too. His overtook him and he was hanging on for dear life, hands tangled in her hair, eyes closed and head thrown back.

He didn't know what she was looking at or feeling, and for that one perfect moment he didn't care. He was still shaking long after he came back to himself, breathing in great loud gasps of "oh…oh…God…" It was a while before he thought of Elizabeth, and when he finally looked down and saw the awed and almost frightened way she was watching him, he eased out of her with a self-conscious little laugh.

She jumped when he moved. He realized it would be horribly unkind to leave her in such a painful state of sensitivity and frustration… and besides, it probably wouldn't take much at this point anyway…

So he lay down beside her and gathered her against him as though to cuddle. As soon as he'd caught his breath, he reached between her legs with his far hand.

"What are you doing?"

"This time I am pleasurin you," he explained. "Enjoy, miss – you've earned it."

He had meant to just rub her til she was satisfied, but the way she was squirming under his hand gave him a better idea. He sat up against the headboard and motioned for her to come sit on his lap. She did as she was told, kneeling, straddling one of his legs. He put his hands on her hips and rolled her slowly forwards and back.

Her breath hitched up right away and she grabbed his shoulders for support. "That's right, missie," he told her, guiding her just a little faster. "This be how it's done. You take what you want." She found her rhythm and began rocking against him on her own, so that it was no longer necessary for him to shift her hips for her. He slid one of his hands around to her rear and with the other reached up to her chest.

He soon realized that neglecting her breasts up til now had been positively criminal. When he cupped one in his hand she shivered, when he pinched the nipple she squeaked, and when he used his fingernails even lightly she moaned. A lot.

Still, one hand for two breasts was hardly enough, so he peeled one of her own hands from his shoulders to help out. She kneaded herself almost as firmly as he did, and he had to laugh, "You are a shameless little thing."

"Is that… how you like… your whores?" she asked breathlessly.

"Aye," he said, noticing how she sped up when he talked. "But you know you're not a whore – I'd be payin a whore. You let me use ye for nothin." She was on the verge. What put her over was when he growled, "I must admit, Elizabeth… of all the loose women I've known… you've been one of the best."

He held her close and she shook against him, making some noise into his shoulder that might well have been a scream had she not muffled it by biting him. He rubbed her back and her hair, soothing her until her heartbeat finally calmed down to something resembling normal.

Once she could breathe again, she crawled off him, threw a blanket over his lap (it was sticky from the mess she had made on it) and lay her head down. "Captain, I don't… I mean…" she locked her arms around his waist and squeezed him, unable to find even the words to say that she had no words.

He laughed, resting a hand on her matted curls. "Did you know I come to Tortuga this time every year?"

He couldn't see her face but he could hear that she was smiling. "Coincidentally enough," she said, "I think, from now on, I do too."


TBC.

There's more to this story in my head, and if you're interested, I'll post it. In other words: review!!!

Thanks for reading.