Lost at Sea

Christina, a young dreamy girl of 19 walked along the plank about to embark on her new life. The ship before her looked gigantic compared to her small frame, it's tall masts stretching over the massive hall as it cast a shadow across the dock. The shadow contrasted Christina's fancy white dress, which showed her father's wealth and prominence. Her dress barely concealed under her busty chest that bulged out over the top of her corset, and her hourglass figure showed perfectly through the silk French garment. It hugged her elegant frame as she looked out over the open sea; the soft breeze kissed her cheeks and caused a shiver to race down her spine.

"This way," the captain snarled as he took her hand.

Startled, Christina jerked her hand away and gawked at the captain. The man before her she recognized as Mr. Tohmas Gage. The captain wore a simple blue and white striped shirt that seemed to rip under his powerful biceps. His trousers were white and were slightly stained with black dirt. His rough long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. And his face sharply contrasted her white tender skin as it was harsh and dark from years under the sun. "I can help myself Mr. Gage, thank you."

Christina had always been a lady, and even though this had to be the worst day of her entire life, she tried to extend her courtesy for a friend of her father who had taught her to extend her courtesy to anyone she met. She felt Gage's eyes trailing her as she walked up the plank.

"It's settled" her father echoed in his dominating voice. "You are to marry Mr. Warren. He will take good care of you. He is well off and gentlemen; you will have a nice comfortable life. It's a matter of Business really, and I must say I'm proud of you. You're doing your family a great service"

"Yes father" her sigh only left a hint of repressed indignation.

Christina moved into her cabin as she awaited her departure. She quietly closed the door and removed her outer dress. Her corset was of a fine French cut, adorned with a lace floral design and her hair thrown up in a bun that was the top fashion of Paris. Small Aztec gold medallions adorned her ears. She stared at her reflection in the mirror as she relieved her breasts from the constrictive corset. She watched as they grew two sizes bigger when the small garment hit the floor. After she pulled the pin from her hair, she found herself captivated by the figure in the mirror. She began to brush her hair but stopped and put her brush down. The girl staring back at her had long brown hair that, free from the bun, stretched down to just below her soldiers. Her soft facial features showed her youth, a thin layer of makeup covered her soft white skin and bright red lipstick accented her lips.

Her eyes, a dark brown, contrasted her pale skin. She turned to give a pose in the mirror. Her firm buttocks postured invitingly outward as her shoulders contra-postured back. She ran her hands up and down the curves of her body. She cupped her firm breasts causing her nipples to tie into tight knots. She remembered the exotic belly dancers that she had read about that one time she stole a book from her father's library. As the beautiful young women danced in the mirror, her mind drifted away from reality as her hand slipped below her belly button.

All of the sudden she imagined herself on a stage, a small bra wrapped around her chest adorned with many brass bells that sung a beautiful song as she danced. A tangerine appeared in her hand. She clapped it loudly and swung her hips. Men appeared in front of her hollering.

"WHOOOWY," They screamed.

Her heart raced as she felt their eyes pierce through her imaginary outfit. She smiled back at one who was caught in her web. She noticed his tall stature and dark features. The man was adorned with rippling muscles, which made her lips quiver at the thought of her body brushing up against them. His hair was a wavy dark brown. She could almost feel it brushing her shoulders and his teeth, contrasted his tan skin, where as white as pearls. He immediately slapped his companion on the back and took a swig of his ale. This only caused Christine to dance closer. She circled him, inspecting his perfectly chiseled buttocks. Captivated by the web of rhythm and dance he could not let his eyes free. At that moment, they caught each other's gaze. Locked in a helpless struggle, his dark green eyes swiftly caught her breath and held it hostage. In the same instant he swept her off her feet and twirled her around the stage. He set her down and she gasped, staring into his green eyes she felt dizzy all over. Their faces moved closer together, her bright red lips parted slightly, she let out a sigh as she dug her fingers deep into her breasts. At that moment, his hand cupped the back of her head softly as he pulled her in for a kiss. In a flash, just before their lips touched the room was emptied. Sitting across the room in a chair she pictured Mr. Warren. His wrinkled and shriveled body caused her hips to cease moving. Suddenly, she was back in her simple black dress, forever growing gray, hunched over an old washboard.

"Is this to be my life," she thought. That night she cried herself to sleep as the waves crashed against the hull of the ship.

A brilliant flash of light and an enormous crack suddenly threw Christina to conciseness. The ship rocked side to side, violently throwing her tumbling sideways. She tried to stand up but the boat was too violent for her to hang on. Looking around her cabin she noticed one of the windows had blown open. Water forced it's way into the room from underneath the doorway and into her quarters. Peering across the room she could see the opening window only a few feet away.

"I have to close it," she said to herself. Determined and fighting off nausea, she crawled out of her bed. Another flash and another loud crack rocked her. Christina flung herself to the floor glaring at her target. Getting on all fours she scurried toward the opening. The floor swayed left and right beneath her but she finally reached the window and hoisted her up to peer out. To her horror she looked out to a ghastly sight. Men were running about the deck screaming at each other.

"Hold her steady," one cried. "Get that bloody thing down the mast is going to snap!" At that moment she looked up and to her complete surprise the sail was still in place fully erect straining on the mast, the ropes pulled taught hurling the ship into the wild waves. Christina's heart raced. "I don't want to die!" she thought.

"God damn it, get it down!" she heard the men cry. Another crack rocked the ship, but this time there was no flash. "Get out of the way!" she heard the men scream. Christina watched as the main mast split in two and came crashing downward like a giant tree falling in the forest. It rolled to the one side of the ship and caught a sailor in its path that had been struggling to cut the sail free. He did not even have a chance to get away before the gigantic log rolled over top of him. The crunch of his bones made Christina flinch. In an instant his lifeless body was thrown over the edge of the ship and the mast was cast into the sea. Christina's scream barley pierced the chaos. Tears began to well up in her dark brown eyes. She shut the window. That night she cried again. She could only think about that poor man alone in the fringed waters, his mangled body lifeless and forever floating adrift in the endless waves.

Gage sat at the helm. Too his complete surprise, the wind, which had threatened to take the ship the previous night, had completely slowed to perfect calm by next morning. "Wonderful" he thought. "First too much now not enough. What else could possibly go wrong?" The next few days were hot and progressed slowly. The sun, which seemed to burn a hole through his head, had finally begun to set. Retreating against the horizon a shadow quickly descended on the vessel darkening the lively glimmer that was once part of Gages rugged complexion. He walked slowly down the swaying steps and into the brig. "Should have stocked more supplies," he grumbled as inspected the hold. He reached for a large wooden barrel. Using his powerful legs and massive frame for leverage, he heaved it to the side revealing a smaller wooden box hidden behind it. He opened the box. Peering inside was an exotic selection of fine beef that was packed in preserving salt and an expensive bottle of red wine lay snuggly wrapped in a white cloth. He pulled out some of the meat and the bottle. It was his private stash, and beef was a luxury most sailors rarely enjoyed. "This should do fine," he thought. He turned back up the steps after he had returned the barrel back to its place.

As he climbed the steps he pondered the dire situation him and his crew were in. He knew there was not going to be another ship. The voyage was to take a month, and there was only about a month and a half of supplies if rationed properly. By the time Mr. Warren noticed that they were missing, a search party, if any would only have weeks to find the stranded vessel. Their only hope was if they continued to drift along the known trade route but it that was even doubtful considering they were so blown off course. "All I can do is sit and wait" he sighed as he walked up the steps. However his thoughts did not dwell on the ship. At that instant he was thinking about Christina. A voice not entirely his own chimed in. "You could have her now and no one would know."

"No!" another voice shot back. "You are good friend of Christina's father and being a good friend and client you MUSTNT. Retain your honor," that voice which he swore was from the opposite side of the room pierced him like a dagger.

"Mr. Gage," He had played the conversation over and over in his head. "They can't know she is on board, she is to be married"

"Yes sir Mr. Rodriguez, she will remain a secret you have my word. No one will lay a finger on her," He replied.

"But think of that pure white skin," the voice on the right hissed. I bet her lips are soft, and those breasts are young and firm, not like that old hag that rots in your bed." This voice was so powerful and it sent chills racing up and down his spine. The memory of that faithful day came rushing back. He remembered the time when, arriving at the Rodriguez hacienda, he had caught Christina changing in the window. "How beautiful, he thought" He distinctly remembered seeing her hands outstretched over her head exposing her bosoms. He remembered how his face turned a dark shade of red as his heart pumped blood to every corner of his body. He remembered imagining her lying with him, his hands rubbing up and down her soft body, how he had sworn he had heard the soft coo escape from her lips. "That old fart Warren," hissed the voice. "The only reason she was to be married was because he and that stupid fuck are trading partners, and Christina is just a whore, sent to fuck the old man for his money." He had suppressed the voice then but it came back twice as strong. "Fuck her Gage I know you want her!"

"Shut up!" Gage held his head and dropped to his knees. "Get out of my head!" It would be several minutes before Gage regained his composure.

Christina lay in her bed. In her dreams she was sitting on her porch at home, peering out at the calm blades of tall green grass waving back at her kindly in the wind. The clouds, white and puffy fascinated Christina. She loved to image all sorts of things in the clouds. Bunnies, foxes, deer, warriors, princesses, and dragons dotted the sky in a symphony of beauty. "Come in Christina, its time for supper," mom called.

"Ok mother ill be there in a second," she replied softly as she watched the ballet play out in the summer air.

Just then the sky grew dark. Two menacing cyclones appeared in the distance and they pulled the waving strands of grass out of the good earth. As the giant vortex sucked them upward they elongated like how a piece of yarn unravels itself. The grass turned black and grew to enormous heights. They looked like long black serpents against the dark sky. The menacing blades made an arching loop around the vortex and circled back coming straight towards the helpless girl. They cut across the field with so much speed Christina had little chance to react. She tried to run in terror but before she could reach the door one had wrapped itself to her ankle flinging her to the hard wood of the porch. "Father help!" she screamed as it struggled to rip her away from her home. Another attached itself to her other ankle. Christina could only hold on for a few moments as a third blade wrapped around her waist, the combined force lifted her off the porch. Christina watched as the earth moved beneath her. "Not to sea, she cried!" Within moments the dark blades tossed her like a piece of trash into the watery grave. The fringed water stung every inch of her body like a thousand tiny daggers. The cold mass then forced it's way down her throat. She could feel it slithering down, deeper and deeper as she sunk forever to Davie Jones locker. The door creaked loudly and the sound jerked the frightened girl up from her horrible nightmare. At that moment Christina screamed. The door immediately slammed shut and a plate of food and a glass of red wine lay in its place. She panted loudly and lay in a state of shock for what seemed to be eternity.

After regaining her composure, Christina suddenly noticed that she hadn't eaten since she left home. Her stomach growled and it beckoned to the plate. She cautiously made it to the door to examine the food. "Thank you," she said softly. There was only silence in return. Feeling exposed, Christina moved quickly back to her bed were she ate and drank.

Peering through the window Gage fought the urge to walk back into the room. "She must be afraid," he thought.

"You could comfort her." The sinister voice hissed. At the instant he heard the voice he turned around. "Just walk away," he thought to himself. "Someone will come and this will all soon be over."