The Pirate's Witch Read online

  All seven men were either college buddies or men who had met as a result of the close connection of their wives, who had been friends since high school. The men were fixated on a ten-year goal, and were obsessed with amassing great fortunes. Although their wives certainly enjoyed some of the benefits, the excesses and boredom were causing fractures in more than one marriage. The women often joked about the ‘Ten Year Plan’, and discussed how they felt as though they were no more than an item checked off some master ‘To Do’ list. After they had a few drinks, at least one of them would mention the inevitable shared thought: that sex must be at the bottom of the list.

  Beth, Suzy and Patti would have nothing to fall back on if their marriages fell apart, because one very important item in ‘The Plan’ was a carefully worded prenuptial agreement. That, along with the partners’ insistence that none of their wives demean their status by obtaining a job, locked them all into whatever stagnant financial existence they had before they were married.

  Hannah had the proceeds from her parents’ estate invested alongside Monique’s trust. Thelma patiently watched small interest dividends added to the principal of an insurance settlement, and Marsha came from a wealthy family. All of them wondered what happened to the charming, attentive men they had married. The men seemed to turn overnight from fun, impulsive sexual tigers to their apparently more arousing challenge of raising the bottom line of the firm.

  After five years, the wives no longer fooled themselves with the thought that things were going to change in the magical tenth year. Monique secretly believed Thelma had already had an affair with a man from the club, and she wondered if that was in the cards for her. Two weeks without Frank, and she knew when he returned it would be another month of late nights and early mornings while he re-organized the office. She was in for one hell of a dry spell.

  Monique had been staring at the portrait while she mused, with her eyes locked onto the identical gaze looking back at her. She felt an unreasonable anger towards her husband over the same thoughts that had crossed her mind on many other occasions. Usually, it just left her depressed. Right now, she wanted to rip his neatly hanging wardrobe from the hangers and stomp on them. When she reached onto the bed for her duffle, a wave of dizziness coursed through her, and she had to steady herself with a hand on the heavy wooden bedpost. After it passed, she picked up her canvas bag and headed downstairs.

  The weather was sunny and surprisingly warm for November, and the temperature in the Caymans would be a balmy eighty to ninety degrees. Hannah had been following the weather on the television, and she was confident they would have clear sailing around Cuba. There, they would tweak their direction a little to the West.

  Marsha was already suggesting they stop by Tortuga if they were ahead of schedule. Two years ago, she announced her brain was becoming numbed with boredom, and she decided to trace her family’s history. One day by Beth’s pool she announced excitedly, “Guess what I found out? I have a great, great … fuck it, I don’t remember how many greats there were… grandfather, who was a pirate near Haiti.”

  She really was going nuts, Monique decided, because the story concluded with the unlikely relative going on two raids before being caught and hanged. Still, it became a hobby for Marsha to continue tracking her lineage and following her new passion for anything to do with pirates. Monique was almost jealous of Marsha for discovering a distraction she enjoyed that kept her occupied, and one that Lee did not seem to object to.

  Thelma sashayed her way down the pier, with stray wisps of her curly red hair that had escaped the clip fluttering around her pretty face. She was a naturally seductive woman with a voluptuous figure, which she employed whenever she wanted something. Right now, she wanted the poor twenty-year old kid who was washing down the outside of a yacht two berths down from where their sailboat was docked. “Hey, honey, would you mind snapping a picture of me and my friends before we sail?”

  The young man stuttered his agreement, and obviously enjoyed watching the attractive women pose. They had the signature look of pampered wives but none of the air of superiority he usually had to endure from the snobs. As he snapped the second picture, he decided he would take any one of them, hell, maybe more than one, if given the opportunity. But, the redhead simply planted a quick peck on his cheek, thanked him warmly, and sent him back to his task.

  While Hannah and Beth idled the sailboat out to sea, Thelma and Patti began grinding out frozen concoctions in the blender, and the rest of them stored the gear in the cabins below. They spent the day sunning in their bikinis and taking turns at the helm, while the never ending supply of daiquiris kept their thirst quenched. Dolphins broke the surface of the water beside them, racing and playing with the sailboat until some new adventure caught their attention.

  By the next day they knew they were making good time, and Marsha was already wheedling for them to dock in Tortuga the next afternoon for a few hours of exploring. Try as they would, the other women just could not seem to muster Marsha’s excitement, but they went along with her plan because she seemed so impassioned.

  Thelma’s bright, slightly inebriated eyes flashed when she said, “I could do with being ravished by a handsome pirate, about now.”

  The young women secured the sails and dropped anchor, enjoying the tropical colors of sunset while evening came upon them. After drinking rum in the hot sun all day, the girls drifted off to their cabins without even bothering to turn on any lights, and they were all sleeping soundly within minutes of climbing into bed as the sailboat gently rocked them.

  By dawn, Deegan had been studying the silent sloop for several hours. Once again, he lifted the spyglass and ran the length of the deck. Johnny leaned close and asked, “Do you think she’s abandoned, Captain?”

  * * *

  “Possibly. There has been no movement topside, though she could be a decoy.” Deegan’s dark eyes were lit with anticipation at the forthcoming conquest. They were six days into their one allotted week at sea, before the ship would return to their island of exile.

  It had been fifty years since the small crew woke to find their boat waiting patiently in the cove with the gangplank lowered in the shallow water and inviting them to board. It was not their first indication that the sailing time was once again at hand. The women they captured never aged on the island, but on the day the boat reappeared, they turned to chalky dust. The first few times it was quite disarming, but now the men accepted it as another twist to Clarette’s curse.

  Deegan ordered the schooner to silently approach from the back, and Felix suggested, “Maybe there is an illness on board, keeping them confined below?”

  “There should still be a crew member keeping watch topside, and if that were the case lamps would be lit so they could take care of themselves,” Deegan replied.

  The mystery ship was a sleek vessel, one of the many they had captured and been forced to release because an attempt to sail on any vessel but the schooner left the pirates waking up on the beach of the island without the benefit of their boat or any women or treasures they had obtained, and a half century wait for another opportunity. Their one attempt had cured them of any ideas of making it to Tortuga aboard any other vessel.

  Twice they had tried to make their way back to the stronghold when their ship was returned to them. As soon as they neared Tortuga, a thick fog settled over their ship, and when it cleared they found themselves on their boat in the island cove with at least a full day’s sail to locate new quarry. They finally agreed to stop wasting valuable time, and to take full advantage of the seven days on the sea they were given. This was the first ship they had seen on this trip, and the crew was becoming restless at the thought of years without the comfort of women.

  Their last conquest had been a mother and her two older daughters. It was inconvenient having to share, and more than once the pirates let their lust get out of hand, causing the women to expire… at least, temporarily. The men discovered Clarette’s curse would not allow the pirates to
escape their endless existence by mere death, as Felix had inadvertently discovered when he slipped off the reef into the turbulent waters of the ocean side of the island. The crew watched in horror as tiger sharks ripped him to shreds, yet he woke up the next morning on the beach with no memory of the incident. The same thing happened to the women they brought back with them, but after the few times the sadistic men had aroused themselves by letting their tortures get out of hand, they discovered that although the women awoke on the beach their minds were gone, leaving the pirates no enjoyment of the wailing, whimpering and tears that so aroused them.

  “Quartermaster, bring us alongside the stern,” Deegan ordered. He checked his weapons with nervousness edged into his anticipation. Their quarry was an enigma, rocking silent and dark with no sign of crew. When the schooner was tethered to the back of the sloop, Deegan separated his men to run the length of the vessel, and told them to be alert for an ambush. With hands on cutlasses and dirks… their pistols were rendered useless a century ago with no ammunition… the men quickly fulfilled his order and returned with the report of no crew.

  “Peter and I will explore below. Listen for a call if we need assistance and keep watch on the horizon for reinforcements,” Deegan said in a hushed voice. When they returned to the pirates waiting topside a few minutes later, Peter’s eyes were bright with excitement. Deegan said, “We have found seven women, sleeping in the cabins. There is no sign of their crew, and the last two cabins near the stern are empty.”

  The absurdity of the discovery was discussed quietly by the pirates. Johnny suggested, “Maybe they have taken their pay and abandoned the women?”

  “Or maybe your first thoughts were right, and the armed ship with the crew and guns is using the sloop as a decoy. I think we need to hasten our attack and secure our treasure before the warship returns,” Deegan replied.

  The men were in agreement, as it would be the first time they would not have to spend the decades sharing women. Even if the warship returned and was victorious, the pirates would merely wake up on the island with a long, lonely wait. Deegan led his crew silently down the steps, sending half to the stern and bringing the other half towards the bow with him. The men stood outside the closed doors with their hands nervously twitching at the thought of the treasure they would discover inside. Their Captain gave a silent signal, and the business of capture commenced.

  Deegan entered the cabin and closed the door behind him. The woman was curled on her side, facing away from him, and he saw the length of her golden hair curling under her hip. As his boisterous crew made their presence known in the other cabins, the sleeping woman began to shake herself groggily awake. “Thelma?” she called out. Deegan’s resolve was shaken when the girl opened her eyes… Clarette’s eyes.

  Monique thought she had heard Thelma scream, and her fuzzy mind tried to grasp whether it was part of a dream. She had the eerie feeling that she was not alone in the cabin, and in the gray light of dawn she located a fierce large man standing across the small room. Monique bolted upright and crushed herself against the wall with a shriek.

  At first, Deegan thought the woman was sleeping in her chemise instead of a proper gown. When she threw the covers off, he learned it was a thin top and that the girl was wearing men’s pants. None of the scene made sense to him, but foremost was the unforgettable, terrified gaze of the eyes staring wildly at him.

  Monique heard what sounded like a slap, and there was another piercing scream from one of her friends. Those sounds were accompanied now by crying and sobbing from the other rooms, and she wondered how many men had boarded their boat. She knew there were still active pirates attacking merchant vessels and others mostly near Africa, but she had thought the Caribbean was safe. While her mind worked frantically for an explanation and a solution to her circumstances, she watched the man’s face and she felt the strange sensation of déjà vu and the impossible notion that she had met him before. He had neither moved nor spoken since she had discovered him. “Please,” she whispered, her voice shaking, “Take what you want and don’t hurt us. Set us in the raft if you want the boat.”

  Frightened tears slipped down her cheeks when the man laughed with obvious delight at her terror. Deegan’s cock was at full staff with a desire he had not felt since Clarette had been his possession for a short time so many years ago. Part of his mind wondered if she had come back to release them, or to place an even harsher restriction to their torment. This time he would conquer her. He would enslave and possess every inch of her body and soul, and delight in tormenting her for the curse she had put on him.

  Monique watched the emotions cross his face, from anger through lust, and finally a cruel determination. Deegan replied in his thick French accent, “I fully intend to take what I want, girl.” He reached her in two strides and Monique kicked out at him, shrieking in terror. His hand was swift and harsh as it slapped across her cheek, and she knew she would find a print from the blow if she looked into the mirror. “Silence,” his deep voice boomed.

  Monique continued to kick out at him, and the strong man gripped one flailing leg and twisted it until she rolled onto her stomach. A few seconds later she felt a wide flat hand clap down with a forceful blow across her bottom, and she clawed across the blanket and began to wail. “Please… my husband has money. He’ll pay you,” she gasped. A thought flashed through her mind that should she need to be ransomed, Frank would probably make her pay him back out of her coffers. Even through her fright, Monique wondered at the frequent thoughts about her husband that almost hinted of jealousy… or a deliberate attempt to think the worst of him.

  The man’s eyes darkened, and he said coldly, “You, above all the rest, should know how meaningless your gold and jewels are to me. No, Clarette, it is you that I want. If there is nothing else to be gained from my exile, it is the realization that your words were true. All the gold and baubles I have plundered are meaningless when I have but that little spot of land to harbor them.”

  Monique’s mind worked frantically as she tried to figure out his words. Her teeth were chattering and she cried, “I’m not Clarette. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve taken the wrong boat.” Though most of what he said was confusing, she now worried that the vicious man was laying wait for a sloop that carried the mysterious girl he mistakenly thought was Monique. Would he kill her, now that he was aware of his error?

  The eyes glaring back at her were filled with anger. “I do not know your game, but I recognize you even in this new form, petite sorcière de la mer. How true those words proved to be,” he sneered. Deegan was more convinced than ever that a backup ship would soon be arriving, and he had no desire to fall into their trap and leave without the woman. “Come,” he ordered, and he slapped her thigh again when she continued to kick out at him.

  Deegan sighed with impatience, and reached his long arm out to thread his fingers through her hair, just as he had done when he had taken the feisty girl the first time. The need to rip off her pants and plunge deep inside her was an ache that only the anxiety of her armed crew returning managed to curb. He pulled the screaming woman to her feet while she clawed at his hand and beat his chest, and all the while he smiled cruelly and laughed at her.

  When he managed to get her turned by lifting her to her toes by her golden tresses, his strong hand once more slammed down on the fleshy globes of her bottom and he was rewarded with a loud shriek. Deegan opened the door and forced her on tiptoe out into the companionway and towards the upper deck hatch. Most of the crew had their wailing captives on deck, and Deegan called down to the stragglers that most likely had been tempted to give in to their lust. “Make haste before the ship with the cannons returns.” He was pleased with the sound of immediate scuffling of bodies in motion from below. “Let’s get our treasure aboard the schooner. Quartermaster, watch over the women while the crew pillages our needs.”

  Johnny nodded to the Captain while gripping Thelma’s throat. One hand was white knuckled as it squeezed a large breast and
guided her towards the back of the sailboat. Thelma’s wet cheeks were rosy with the evidence of the force of the man’s blows and she sobbed quietly, but she made no effort to remove his hands from her.

  Monique tried to drag her feet, a painful task the way the brutal man had her secured, and she used her legs to push out against the cushioned bench running the length of the stern. The effort merely pressed her into her captor’s broad chest and he chuckled low. “I see you wish to play the scene as we did the first time, Clarette.” He threw her up onto his shoulder and jumped aboard the schooner.

  The girls were huddled together by the side rail near the helm with Johnny looking over them while Deegan orchestrated the looting of their boat. The Quartermaster’s eyes only left his watch over the women, to nervously scan the horizon for a sign of their approaching crew.

  Marsha wiped her eyes and her sobbing voice hitched, “This is fucked up. Who ever heard of pirates using a sailboat and no guns? They have knives and cutlasses, for god’s sakes.” Her watery eyes scanned the deck of the schooner. “And this boat is ancient. It’s not just a replica of an old boat…it is old. There’s no modern navigation, hell, there isn’t even any sign of an engine.”