"Men, this is Samantha. Samantha is my personal property. She belongs to me, and as such, is off limits to any crew member. You may not touch her, or even talk to her unless I give you permission. Toby is to be her personal guard." The men shuffled a bit and Toby stepped up to her other side, not touching her but lending moral support with just his presence. Jake continued.
"Pete broke the Ship's Articles. He dared to touch my personal property, dared to attack my personal property. According to the Articles, punishment of 30 lashes will be meted. In addition, he will be confined to the brig for the duration of the voyage and he will forfeit his portion of the booty to be evenly divided amongst the crew." Stan and the other man stepped forward holding Pete between them and escorted him so he was facing the 'X.' Each reached up to strap the quaking man's wrist to the top of the 'X' leaving Pete's back facing the assembled. Then Stan reached up to tear Pete's shirt down the back, baring his back while the remnants of the material hung from his arms. Both of them turned to face Jake before stepping away to leave the shaking man alone.
Jake paused a moment, then his voice boomed out. "Bring out the Captain's Daughter and let punishment commence." Samantha started. The Captain's Daughter? Was he married? She thought that she was the only female on board, but she must have been wrong.
Those words seemed to wake up the little man for he suddenly began to scream and cry, begging Captain Jake for leniency. "Please, Capt'n, sir. 'ow kin yew dew this t'me. I got 'er fer yew. If'n it wurn't fer me, yew wooden 'ave 'er." He was screaming the words, babbling so fast that they didn't make sense. The more he spoke, the higher the tone of his voice went. "If'n it wurn't fer me, she wood still be walkin' down that street, so's yew oughter thank me."
"Belay that order!" Captain Jake shouted and all movement stopped, save for pitch of the ship as the sails snapped overhead, and the wiggling around that Pete did while tied upright. Jake left her side and stepped to the railing, placing both hands on the wood balustrade to lean forward. "Just where did you find her, Pete?" Sam held her breath waiting for the answer. Maybe she would find out who she was now.
"I wuz there in the alley wen she steps in frunt uv me. She wuz scered uv the drinkin' men. If'n I 'adn't been thinkin', she wood uv got away." Pete kept twisting from side to side, trying to see if he was moving the Captain with his story. Sam couldn't see Jake's face, but from where she stood she saw him tighten his grip on the railing as if he was trying to keep from jumping down there to beat the man himself.
Jake suddenly snapped to attention as his voice coldly ringing out, "Master-at-arms, let the cat out of the bag." He returned to stand beside her. Now she was really confused with his talk about cats, but Toby must have sensed her confusion as he leaned towards her slightly and muttered under his breath.
"Cat-o-nine tails. It's the lash."
Samantha watched a large man step forward holding a red bag with a leather strap wrapped tight around its mouth. He unwrapped the strap and reached in to draw out a bundle of leather strips and unfolded them to their full length. It appeared to be a rope and leather handle holding together numerous long strips of leather. Around a yard long, it looked like knots were tied interspersed along each strip. The man spent a moment or two shaking the whip's strands to untangle them. She could tell that some kind of little weight had been tied to each end of strip. It reminded her of a quirt, but this instrument looked like it would deliver quite a bit more pain. He tested the weight of it in his hand.
A chill zipped up her spine as the muscular man swung the lash over his head and there was a whistle of sound from the piece. Apparently, Pete heard it also and tried to look over his shoulder as he gave a panicked cry. He began to shake and would probably have collapsed if he had not been tightly tied to the frame. Another swing of the lash and this time Sam heard a crack of sound before Pete screamed and a puddle grew at his feet as he lost hold of his bladder.
The next swing made contact with Pete's back and fine red lines suddenly appear on his back. As his scream pierced the air, blood began to slowly trickle down the man's bare back. She swallowed hard and looked down at the deck. A hand on her shoulder squeezed it. Bending down, his mouth near her ear and voice low for her ears only, Jake said one word. "Watch." Drawing a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to the spectacle playing out before her.
With each stroke, Pete's back became more bloody. Lines and welts on top of lines and welts. More blood ran down his back. Each scream from the man's throat seemed to be louder than the previous one until the tortured man passed out. And yet the whipping continued. She glanced at the others on the deck, their faces impassive but the lesson learned.
Finally, the punishment stopped and Sam glanced at the cat hanging from the large man's hands. Blood dripped from the leather strips to dot the deck below. Pete's back was a maze of red welts and bloody stripes. No words were spoken as overhead the sails whipped gently in the breeze.
Stan stepped to the side of the ship and threw overboard a bucket attached to a rope. Pulling the bucket back up by the rope, she saw seawater slosh over the side to splash on the deck. Stan then walked to the unconscious body tied to the wooden 'X' and threw the contents of the bucket on Pete's back. The man jerked and howled as if touched with a hot poker before sagging back into unconsciousness, his body hanging from his thin wrist. The seawater helped to wash away some of the blood and urine from the deck and Samantha felt dizzy and nauseous. Suddenly Jake slipped his arm around her waist to usher her toward the steps to the lower deck. She didn't see the nod he gave to Bilge before he headed down the steps. He turned to put his hands around her waist to lift her down to the lower deck with him.
She was beyond noticing the eyes of the crew as Jake lead her to the entrance leading below deck. Hoping that she could hold herself together until she reached inside, she just made it through the door of the cabin before the gore began to rise. Rushing across the room, she bent over to spew the meager contents of her stomach into the bucket. It was more acid than food, but she couldn't seem to stop gagging as she finally dry heaved, eyes tearing. Jake held her hair away from the mess and gently rubbed her back. When she appeared through, he helped her stand and took her in his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head and muttering soothing words.
"I know it was hard, but necessary."
She beat her fists against his chest. "Necessary! You call that bloody spectacle necessary? How could you!" She choked back tears.
She could see a muscle working in his jaw and knew that he was clinching it to avoid losing his temper as he spit out the words. "Would you rather I let him rape you?" Anger flared in his eyes and his lips tightened to a thin line. He let go of her and abruptly turned to stalk out of the cabin, slamming the door behind him. Samantha was left alone with the memories of the violent display on deck. She slowly sank on the bunk crying.
