A hushed eternity spun out as William deGranville, Jacqueline's weapons ready to end his life with a slash or a shot or the both at once, stared wide-eyed at the pirate woman. Her ultimatum hung in the air, and the crowd leaned forward expectantly, breaths held, to hear his reply.
"Not that!" Constance shrieked, the words erupting from her. "No, Jacqueline, anything but that, please, if you have any mercy in your heart –"
"I … I will do as you … as you demand," her father said, shuddering.
"Father, no, oh, please no!"
"Marie?" Jacqueline stepped back, wiping the thin sheen of deGranville's blood from her dagger before sheathing it. She kept the pistol leveled at him. "Help the good governor with his breeches."
"Right away, Captain."
"Constance, forgive me," William said wretchedly, unable to look at her. "It is … it is the only way."
But it was not! She wanted to scream it at him. It was not the only way! Jacqueline had given him another choice, to be buggered by Rob, but had he spared it a moment's consideration? He'd sooner fuck his own daughter, commit the worst of incests, for that would still leave him a
man
? She wanted to scream all this, peal it with a banshee's terrible howl, but words failed her.
Marie knelt before William and reached for his belt. He shied away, but the men flanking him – Salvador, and a stout sailor named Rafe with a huge fiery beard – held him in place. Marie trilled with amusement.
"Why, Captain, he's half-hard already!" she crowed.
"What’s this, deGranville?" Jacqueline inquired mockingly. "Aroused by what you've seen, eh? Did you perchance like watching our Marie work her tongue in your Constance's cunny?"
His eyes were squeezed shut, and brick-red colored his cheeks. As Marie slid his trousers down his legs, exposing him from the waist, Constance glimpsed over Marie's shoulder that it was true. His cock stood at half-mast, a slim and elegantly-shaped lance rising from a tuft of silvery-gold hair.
She averted her gaze in horror. Of all the cruelties she'd expected of Jacqueline, never had she imagined anything so terrible as this. All at once she would have given anything to be allowed to take on a dozen men, would have whored herself to them on hands and knees, anything to stop this most hideous thing.
In looking away from her father, she met Rob's eyes. The fuming anger in them sent a chill spiking into her heart.
"Lift your foot, my lord," Marie said, attempting to remove his boot.
William kept his foot firmly planted, until Salvador poked the tip of a cutlass meaningfully into his back. Then, grimacing, he acquiesced. First one boot, and then the other, were tossed aside. Marie peeled away his trousers and underclothes. Constance could not help watching, drawn against her will to the scene, as the kneeling girl reached up and gently grasped William's cock. It twitched, eliciting a general laugh, and deGranville went even redder.
"Give him a lick, Marie," prompted Jacqueline.
Marie did so, playfully flicking her tongue against the head of his cock and then licking the shaft in quick, firm strokes. Although his face was screwed into knots, perhaps in dire concentration
not
to respond, he stiffened toward full erection.
"Please, Father!" Constance wept. "Do not let them do this to us!"
"You've quite a nice one, my lord," Marie said approvingly, and opened her mouth to engulf him.
William groaned. His hands were so tightly clenched at his sides that thin rills of blood trickled from the points where his nails cut into his palms.
The gathered sailors and townsfolk cheered Marie on. She bobbed her head, one hand holding the base of his cock, the other between his legs to toy with the dangling sac of his balls. When she allowed him to slide out from her lips, he was swollen and rigid, glistening from her saliva.
And surely it meant she was damned, doomed to the fires of Hell for all eternity, but at the sight, a loosening expectance relaxed Constance's loins. Her cunny ran with a fresh flow of juices, anticipating the contact, the penetration.
"Nooo," she whimpered, more to herself than to them.
"Put him on the platform," Jacqueline said from her chair. Rather than lounge, now, she was sitting forward with an avid expression, that of someone at long last seeing a coveted dream made true.
Constance wailed and lunged in her bonds, this way and that, abrading her wrists and ankles. Her father, practically carried by Rafe and Salvador, came toward her with a stiltlike gait. He reached the edge, and Salvador struck him sharply on the backs of the legs. This caused his joints to unhinge, and he dropped to his knees on the edge of the platform between her widespread feet.
A babbled string of pleas issued from her. William's eyes opened. He looked down at her, at the lush young body, and he was in tears, chin quivering, face torn with despair. And yet, for all of that, his cock loomed over her.
"Forgive me, Constance," he said. "I must. Do you not see? There is no other way. We have no choice. It is our lives at stake, our lives, our family, and –"
The mention of family incensed Jacqueline. "Go on and stick it in her," she snapped. "Do it, deGranville, fuck the little whore."
"No, Father, no, not this," Constance said.
"I must," he repeated woodenly. "It is the only way. Forgive me."
He bent down, bracing his hands on either side of her trapped body. His cock touched her belly and she jumped. He lowered himself, only that part of him in contact with her. It brushed through her downy-gold fluff, and he was quaking now, his arms straining, his jaw knotted.
"Oh, please, no!" She felt his cockhead part her soft hair and nudge into her furrow. For one shattering moment, it was pressed full against her clitoris, sending a jolt like lightning through her.
"Close your eyes, Constance," he said thickly. "Close your eyes, and think of other things, and soon this terrible deed will be done and we'll be free."
He moved down, an excruciatingly slow movement that made her traitorous flesh want to lunge upward and capture him. She held herself motionless, for if she did that, if she took an active and willing part, he would hate her more than ever. Yet he had to be feeling the damp heat rising from her cunny, had to know that she was ready, craving it.
His cock lodged at the opening, against her but not within her. William's arms were shaking from the effort of holding himself up. All he had to do was thrust his hips, or even let his weight drop onto her, and he'd be seated deep, buried in her.
"How is it, deGranville?" Jacqueline asked. "Has she a nice, hot cunny?"
"I cannot do this," he said. "I cannot … not my own and only daughter!"
Jacqueline was out of her chair and onto the platform in a flash. Constance could see her, scowling, standing behind and over her father.
