Morgan on the Spanish Main

The sailor hurried away, and when Penelope closed the door, the Captain sagged in the chair and dropped the pistols to the table. As soon as the meger crew had removed the bodies and shut the cabin door, Morgan felt his forehead and found it afire with fever. She and Penelope half carried, half drug him to his bed, and rolled him onto his back. He was unconscious.

All night, Morgan bathed his face and chest with cool water, and as the dawn shone purple through the cabin windows, he woke.

"Water", he croaked.

Penelope brought the pitcher, and he took a long draught.

He looked at her and said, "Yesterday, why did you kill the Spaniard?"

"When the Spanish officer was going to kill you, I knew if you died, we would surely die also, no matter the outcome of the battle. You spoke as much yourself.

"Why did you tend my wounds?"

"You were injured and suffering. That is the only reason I can give."

He nodded slowly, and his eyes closed.

"What is to become of us now?"

The Captain did not answer. He was unconscious again.

All that day, Morgan fought the fever with the only medicant available to her, cool water administered to his face and chest. The Captain slipped in and out of consciousness, and when the cook brought supper, Morgan could not wake him. She looked worriedly at Penelope, for if their only protector were discovered unconscious, their fate would be grim indeed. Penelope whispered to Morgan, and then went to the door. She opened it a crack and peered out at the cook.

"Where's the Cap'n", the cook asked in an accusing manner.

"The Captain is occupied at the moment", said Penelope, "and has ordered me to receive his supper. Please hand me the tray."

"Well, Oi think the Cap'n is dead, or near so, and Oi mean to see fer meself." He pushed the door open, almost knocking Penelope to the floor, and strode into the room. After two steps, he stopped, mouth agape, and then stammered, "Beg pardon, Cap'n. Oi was just seein' if you needed anythin'." He looked at the Captain's bed, and at Morgan kneeling, her head bobbing up and down in the area of the Captain's hips, and chuckled softly. "From the looks of things, yur doin quite well. I'll be leavin' you now."

He turned and took a step, then turned back.

"Cap'n, Oi was behind you, back when them others tried to do you in. Oi been thinkin' that ought to be worth a poke at this old hag, if it please you, of course. What say ye?"

The answer came in the "click, click, click" as the pistol that appeared beside Morgan's bobbing head was cocked.

Without another word, the cook disappeared through the doorway. Penelope closed the door, turned to Morgan, and gasped as she remembered to breath. Morgan lifted her head from the unconscious man, and as she looked at the door, she uncurled her right arm, and uncocked the pistol she had placed over the Captain's chest to frighten the cook.

"Penelope, this play-acting sufficed to hide the Captain's incapacity tonight, but the same ruse is not likely to succeed again. What shall we do tomorrow?"

"We must do the best with the Captain that we can, child, and trust to Providence that he is better in the morning."

All through the night, Morgan and Penelope appied the cooling water, but the heat of the fever continued until the early hours of morning. Penelope had collapsed in a chair, exhausted from the late hour and from the events of the day, and Morgan was tending the Captain. She noticed that his skin felt cooler to her touch, and when the first, grey rays of light filtered through the cabin windows, she was sure the fever had broken. As she lay her palms on the full, muscled chest, and felt the steady rise and fall of his breathing, she realized that, save for having her hand taken in social politeness, she had never before touched a man. She found that she enjoyed the sensation of his skin against hers and as she touched him, she had the sudden realization that she wanted to be with him, to be at his side and never leave. Was this what Penelope had meant, what she had called love? She lay her cheek on the broad chest, and let her fingers slip down to the rippled belly. The ridges of muscle contracted at her touch, and she quickly remover her hand and looked at the Captain's face. He was still unconscious, and she reasoned the sudden convulsion to be only an involuntary reaction to her touch. She again placed her hand on his belly, and experienced the same tightening of muscle, but when she allowed her hand to remain, the Captain soon relaxed. She gently stroked over the surface, and without knowing why, allowed her hand to move towards his trouser waist. Her fingers slipped under the waistband, as if willed by themselves to do so, and she caught her breath when her fingertips touched curly hair. She felt the curls, enjoying the coarse, springy feeling under her fingers, until she again felt bare skin. The Captain stirred, and when Morgan felt the skin twitch at her touch, she quickly withdrew her hand. She sat motionless in the dim light as she watched the front of the Captain's trousers rise, and then slowly fall back to his thighs.

Just when she reclined beside the unconscious man and fell asleep, Morgan did not remember. When she woke, bright sunlight lit the cabin. She looked around the cabin to find Penelope still asleep in the chair. She turned to look at the Captain, and found steel grey eyes staring into hers. In her half-awake state, she tried for a moment to remember where she was and her circumstances, and in that same moment, the Captain placed his hand on her shoulder, pulled her to him, and kissed her. She was preparing to speak, and his mouth closed against her parted lips. The sensation was dizzying for Morgan, and she responded to the kiss in a manner that surprised even her. Her hand found the back of the Captain's neck, and held him close as her mouth moved about his. When his tongue tenatively tickled her upper lip, Morgan sighed a tiny moan, and held him tighter. The Captain broke the kiss, and looked at the girl lying beside him. Morgan's eyes were closed and she was smiling.

"Do you treat all your captors to such inviting kisses?, he chuckled. "If such is your habit, I may never let you go."

Morgan's eyes flew open as she realized where she was, and what had just transpired. She blushed deeply, leapt from the bed and went to wake Penelope, for she knew not what to say or what else to do.

As Penelope stretched, yawned and then stood, the Captain slowly rose from the bed, and took the chair behind the chart table.

"Would you be so good as to relate to me the events of last night? I remember the attempted mutiny, but little else after that. I assume that I remain Captain of this brig, but that position is quite in jeopardy still, I must know of any interaction with the crew that may have transpired."

Morgan recounted the visit by the cook, blushed when she described the ploy they had used to disallusion him, and told of their efforts to relieve the Captain's fever. She omitted their waking kiss, but the Captain's smile told her that she need not remind him of this.

"The remaining crew will attempt to ascertain my condition shortly, and if I am found weak, they will again attempt to overthrow my command. Your charade was ingenious in concept, and apparently conducted convincingly. The crew still fears me, after last night, but even as that may be, they are slaves to their greed, and will surely make another attempt. I must keep control until we reach Terriva; they will not mutiny after some time on shore. If you are to survive to be ransomed, you must assist me in this respect, for if I fall, so shall you both. "

"You shall both stay in my cabin. I shall trust you with arms, for you have nothing to gain by killing me, and everything to lose by allowing the crew to take command. When the attempt commences, your courage must be high. They will give no quarter, and the only end shall be with their deaths or with mine...and yours after they have had their enjoyment. In the meantime, you shall continue to act as my prisoners. Is this understood?"

"Captain, before, you were able to kill so many with only two shots. Can you not do so again?"

"The muskets were made to my order. They have a large bore, and were loaded with small, cut nails. When fired, the nails fly in all directions rather than straight as would a ball. The result is effective for large groups at close range. The circumstance that made the muskets effective shall not occur again, for this time, the crew will not attack as a mob. They will attempt to kill me by surprise."

The attack came as the cook brought supper to the cabin. Penelope went to the door, as before, and opened it only a crack. This time, however, the cook pushed to door open with such force that Penelope was thrown to the floor. As he charged through the doorway, he pointed a piston at the Captain. His finger was compressing the trigger when the small hole appeared in his forehead, and he instantly fell to the floor of the cabin, his brain stirred to mush by the Captain's ball. As he fell, another charged the door, followed by a second. The Captain's second pistol shot caught the first in the belly, and he fell writhing to the floor. As he rolled in agony, spreading the pool of blood flowing from his wound, the second raised his boarding axe to crush the Captain's skull. At the range of three feet, the musket charge of flat nails nearly cut him in half, and he fell with a thud in front of the chart table.

"Quickly, reload the pistols", shouted the captain at Morgan, who was already engaged in that same process. As she rammed the ball home on the first, two more sailors entered the cabin, each bearing a cutlass and a dagger. They rushed the Captain, who discharged the second musket load of nails into their path. The first fell, but as the second was directly behind him, he was unharmed by the rain of steel. With a heathen scream, he leapt for the Captain. Midway through his leap, he crumpled and fell, shattering the chart table and sending charts, glasses and a rum bottle to all corners of the room. Morgan's shot had pierced his heart and resulted in his instant death.

Morgan had no time in which to reload the pistols. The windows behind the Captain's chair shattered as two more sailors broke into the cabin. The Captain grasped his cutlass and dagger, and rose shakily from his chair.

"Aye, the cook were right. The Cap'n's on his last legs.", snarled one, and slashed at the Captain with his sword. The Captain parried the blow, but reeled from the force. His own cutlass sliced through the man's arm, nearly severing it at the elbow, and the sailor fled across the room in terror. He did not see that Penelope had regained her footing, nor did he observe her picking up a cutlass from one of his fallen comrades. His last sensations were the sharp pain as it pierced his gut, and then the emptying feeling as his entrails spilled from the wound.

The Captain was engaged with the second window-crashing heathen, and was failing quickly. His wounds from the day before had opened and the bandages were stained red. Had the sailor not stumbled over a bit of the broken chart table, affording the opportunity for the Captain to pierce his heart with the dagger, the challenge might have had another end, but the sailor fell dying to the floor.

"There are three left", cried the Captain, and as if on that que, the three entered the cabin, one by the window, and the other two by the door. As the Captain impaled the first on his cutlass, a shot rang out, and he fell, clutching his side. Morgan and Penelope, huddled together at the side of the bed, holding each other in terror.

"We've won, we've won the ship", shouted the taller of the two sailors. We'll share even lots for this voyage, starting with these two. They started toward the two women.

"Well, well, what have we here", said Penelope. "Two sailors aching to taste our charms. I, for one, could use a good poke, after all this time at sea." She beckoned to the taller of the two.

"You be tall in height, be you long of root also? I like a long shaft, long and thick between my legs. Perhaps you would fit the bill? With her left hand, she raised her skirt to reveal her milky thighs.

"Aye, long enough for a whore such as you". They were close, only two feet away, when Morgan and Penelope raised the daggers they had conceled in the folds of their skirts, and plunged them into the bellies of the two sailors.

"Perhaps these shall also be long enough for two filthy pirates", yelled Morgan as she jerked the dagger from the sailors body and plunged it home again, this time twisting it after the blade sank in to the hilt. Both sailors fell at the side of the bed. Morgan and Penelope stepped over the dying men, and rushed to the Captain's side.

He had been wounded by the ball, but not seriously, the missle having only cut a track through the muscle of his side. He was very weak, but not in danger of losing his life. Morgan cleaned and bandaged the wound as she had the others, and she and Penelope helped him into his chair.

"We have won the battle, but we cannot sail the brig by ourselves. We must abandon her for the longboat, as I can manage the canvas on that boat alone. As you see, we are drifting, for the crew dropped sail before the attack. We shall be safe enough for this night, and in the morning we shall depart."

The next morning, the Captain was strong enough to climb to the deck, and fixed their position at two day's sail from Terriva. Morgan and Penelope roamed the ship under his instruction, gathering food and water to provision the longboat. With much effort, they succeded in attaching the tackles and lowering the boat over the side. They loaded the provisions, the pistols, muskets, and a few other weapons, the Captain's instruments and chest, and some of their possessions. As the Captain instructed them to prepare to depart, Morgan asked, "Aren't you forgetting your treasure?".

The Captain laughed. "My only treasure from this voyage was you fair ladies, if you had someone to pay your ransom. The Mourning Dove carried only supplies and cheap trade goods, not gold and silver. The legends surrounding my trade greatly exceed the facts. And now, after you have twice saved my life, I cannot bring myself to barter for yours. I end this voyage with less than I started, for I have also lost my ship."

They sailed through that day over a calm sea, saying little to each other. After Penelope had fallen asleep in the bow, Morgan went to sit beside the Captain.

"Captain Torrez, what shall become of us when we reach your island?"

"As I said, I can not bring myself to hold you for ransom; upon our arrival, you are free to go where you will."

She was silent for several minutes.

"That morning, in the cabin, why did you kiss me?"

"I woke to see a beautiful woman lying beside me. Would you have had me throw you to the floor?

"I mean, you could have taken me, by force, if you wished. Why did you only kiss me, instead?"

"Unlike those of my former crew, I do not bed every woman who should cross my path, either forceably or with her consent. A woman should come to a man because she wishes to do so, not because she is forced. And I would ask you a question. When I kissed you, why did you respond?

"I do not know. It felt so...I had never been kissed like that, and it made me feel...made me want to do what I did."

She moved closer, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him, her lips tasting his as her tongue gently touched his teeth. When he responded with his own tenative touch of his tongue, a quiet "mmmm" escaped Morgan's throat. He gently pushed her away.

"Woman, you will your own undoing if you continue this conduct. I am but a man, and will be neither willing nor able to stop."

"Perhaps I do not wish you to stop. Perhaps I wish you to take me, here and now."

"Why would you wish this. I am your captor, if you remember, the captor who would have held you for ransom, or would have sold you to become a consort on Terriva."

"Yes, the same captor who could have taken me on the Mourning Dove, or at any time during the voyage. The same captor who could have given me to his crew, and possibly have saved his ship from mutiny. And the same captor who could have abandoned me to my fate while he sailed away. Why would you behave thus?

"When I first saw you, I was taken by your beauty and innocence, and resolved to protect you from harm. Then, after you killed the Spaniard, I was in your debt for my life. Your care during my fever saved that life, and I knew I could never cause you harm. You have insinuated yourself into my life with your beauty, your careing touch, and by bravely standing by my side during the battle with the crew. Would that we had met under different circumstances.... But that can never be."

"What can never be?"

"Morgan, I grew to love you after the battle with the Spanish brigantine. At first, I thought it was the fever that made me feel things that weren't there, but after the fever broke, the feeling was still present. When you caressed my chest and belly, I ached to hold you, but held back. When you touched my manhood, my mind reeled with need to be with you.

"You were awake then?, Morgan gasped.

"Yes, and it was then that I realized that I needed to be with you, always, but that our stations in life would not permit such a thing. So, the next morning, I kissed you, knowing that I could at least remember that kiss for the rest of my life."

"Would it shock you to know that I have the same feelings, that as I cared for you that night, I realized that I want no other man save you? For such is the truth, my Captain." Morgan sniffed as tears came to her eyes. "I do not care what stations we may hold; I only know that I want to hold you, forever."

He took her in his arms and held her tightly, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead until her sniffing stopped. As she gazed up at him with tear streaked eyes, he kissed her eyelids, then her sweet lips, and this time, he did not push her away. Tingling sensations shot through her body, and she became aflame with desire for this man. Her hands went to his chest, stroking, loving the feel of him against her palms.

His hands were also exploring this treasure of womanhood, seeking and finding the sides of her breasts and gently rubbing. He found the ties of her bodice, and gently removed the garment. He broke the kiss to slip the chemise over her head, and gazed at her large, firm breasts in the moonlight. As his hands cupped the soft globes, she began kissing his shoulder and neck, and when his thumbs brushed over her nipples, she gasped and kissed him fiercely, her tongue finding his and sending shivering sensations through them both.

Removing the rest of her clothing was difficult but he managed, and sat her on the sail that would have served as her pallet for the night. He removed his trousers, and when his member bobbed free, she circled it with her fingers. Her caress was so soft, so gentle, as she stroked his length, slipping the foreskin back from the head and then back down, just as Penelope had taught her. She marveled at his hardness and size, but as she stroked the organ, it seemed to enlarge even more. She feared this not, as Penelope had explained this to her, and assured her that her passage could accept any man.

He knelt beside her, and his fingers touched the downy, ginger curls that guarded her portal. He gently stroked her mound, then slipped his fingers lower to her swollen lips. He kissed her again, slowly and gently rubbing and squeezing her petals until her inner lips began to swell and open the portal to their pleasure. He teased between her delicate lips, finding the inner surface moist with her nectar, and as he moved to suckle her nipple, he slipped his finger between them. Morgan moaned, and her hips bucked against him. She held him tight to her breast as her nipples swelled long and firm. He rasped his tongue across the very tip and slid his finger deeper, eliciting another moan from Morgan. Her thighs spread wide, opening her outer lips, and he found her small bud with his thumb. He gently massaged the growing nub, and Morgan began to thrust against his touch. He felt she was nearly ready, and he knelt between her soft thighs. He rubbed his organ rubbed between her moist lips, then pushed at the opening of her passage. Morgan tried to arch against him, to drive him deeper, but he held back to allow her to open to his size. He pushed in a short distance, then pulled out to rub the head against her lips and bud, then back inside, pushing deeper into her flowing passage each time. He kept this pace until his shaft felt resistance. He began rubbing her little bud faster and raster, and Morgan began to make small noises deep in her throat. Her hands found her own nipples and began gently tugging at them as her body began to stiffen. Her hips thrust in time to his penetration, but he stopped at the resistance until she began to cry out. As Morgan lifted her hips from the pallet, he thrust through her maidenhead, causing her to whimper for a moment, but then the pleasure of his continuous caresses on her little, swollen button buried the pain in immense waves of pleasure. He held back no longer, and buried himself deep in her belly with each thrust. Her passage began to ripple over his length, and he found he could no longer control his passion. He leaned to kiss her open mouth, and as their tongues met, Morgan shuddered and arched high, driving him deeply inside herself. The thrust pushed him over the peak of his passion, and he erupted, his seed spurting through his length to splash deep in Morgan's belly. As Morgan cried out and arched again, another spurt coated her passage, and as she sank back to the pallet, he felt the third wave of seed flow from his body.