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“Do I make you wet?” he breathes into my ear and my hands grip the railing behind me. “I see you watching me undress. I know you notice.”
“Step back.”
“I know you like what you see. More so than your skinny prick of a boyfriend.” His hand tangles in my hair beneath my braid and yanks. “I bet you’ve never been as wet for him as you are for me right now.”
A whimper escapes my parted lips as his teeth bite into the curve of my neck and his hand tightens in my hair. He grinds against me, his solid length against my covered mound.
I hate how good it feels. I hate how my body betrays me.
“Bad girls should be with bad guys,” he continues, tasting me with his tongue. “Do you want to be bad for me?”
I try to do what I did to Roger last night but fail. He feels me shift and traps my knee between his powerful thighs.
“Please,” I beg. “Let me go.”
The second he loosens his grip I run, keeping my balance as I crashed through the crew and make my way to anywhere but here. Shame, confusion and anger flood my body. The body that betrayed me moments ago.
Why is he doing this to me?
Why must he torture me? Isn’t it enough that I’m his prisoner?
But I’m done being his prisoner and I’m done being a victim. I’m smarter than this and so much more powerful.
If I’m going to get out of this alive I need to plan.
I’ve wasted so much time wallowing and I want to kick myself.
Nightfall comes but not before I shower again and choose more clothing from his drawers. Such an intimate thing, wearing his clothes. This is good, though. This is fortunate. What he says goes. Maybe I can weave my way into his good graces and trust that he doesn’t kill me at the end. If I can get him on my side…
I don’t even know where to begin.
It’s late when he comes to bed and I’m in the middle of reading Treasure Island, funnily enough. Anything to even give me a glimpse of what I’m dealing with. All I know thus far is that pirates like treasure and the only treasure I have to give is my vagina and I’m definitely not giving him that. As soon as he takes it he’ll tire of me and that’ll be my demise. Men like him, ruthless, savage beings don’t love. I’m nothing to him.
It’s freeing figuring that out.
“Evening,” I say of my own accord.
He grins at me with that trademark cocky smirk. “Evening.”
I return to my book, setting my plan in motion.
Days go by, days of no word, no talking with anybody but Geoffrey. The entire ship was on red alert, prepared when one of the lookouts spotted another ship in the distance. They said it was a cruise ship and nothing to worry about, but still turned on the engines and moved us east. I took note of the compass on the wall, time and date. It could be a possible escape route if desperate enough though I haven’t put too much more thought into it.
Really at this point any hopes of escape are a pipe dream, my main task is keeping alive and safe. I’m not naïve enough to think my good health and wellbeing are a permanent thing. I’m a means to an end and when that end comes I need to be ready.
Geoffrey keeps me occupied when I’m not mopping or avoiding people by reading one of the many books in Captain’s room. I’ve hardly seen him which has been a relief. The less time I have with him the less likely he is to confuse me.
I discover the name of the ship is the Sea Whore and I wonder if Captain named it after his mother in some weird way.
It even has a black flag which they fly when feeling rebellious. Geoffrey showed me it on a walk to clear our heads yesterday.
Now though, things are back to normal for the most part.
Well… almost.
Because I just inhaled something that has me choking and retching. Something Geoffrey accidentally dropped and it immediately shot upwards in a cloud of powder and smoke.
“Oh shit,” Geoffrey murmured the second it fell from his hands as he was passing it into mine and asking me to put it in the cupboard behind me. “Oh double shit. Did you breathe it in?”
“You think?” I squeak as he sprays me with a tap, drenching me from hair to chest.
“Hold out your hands.”
“What is it? Am I going to die?”
“Eh… probably not…” He laughs nervously.
I glare at him. “Fix this!”
He sprays me again and places his hand on my neck to check my temperature.
“What’s going to happen, Geoffrey?”
“Chatterbox, go fetch the captain… and maybe some handcuffs.”
