Message-ID: <32484asstr$1000084202@assm.asstr.org>
Return-Path: <news@btinternet.com>
X-Original-Path: not-for-mail
From: nick_cassandra@yahoo.co.uk (Nick)
X-Original-Message-ID: <3b9bd9de.22023462@news.btinternet.com>
Reply-To: nick_cassandra@yahoo.co.uk
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Sun, 09 Sep 2001 21:54:39 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} The Pirate Queen (fff bdsm) {Nick)
Date: Sun,  9 Sep 2001 21:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr.org/Year2001/32484>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-admin@asstr.org>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@asstr.org>
X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, hecate

The Pirate Queen  (fff bdsm) {Nick}

(The sequel to `Alcopops')

There is no copyright on this work.  It is effectively 'freeware'. You
may do with it what you wish, and in the unlikely event that you can
make money from publishing it, you are free to do so.  It would be
nice to get a cut, but I didn't write it for money.


The contents of the head of a teenage girl are a complete mystery,
thought Mr Towler as he watched his daughter picking at her food that
evening.  He wondered if even she herself fully understood it. If he
had been aware that only hours earlier she had been lying naked on her
back, while a couple of her schoolmates forced a bottle of one of
those newfangled Alco-pops into her vagina, he might have found his
daughters current mood a little less mysterious.

"Not hungry, luv?" he said.

The last thing Jenny wanted at that moment was her parents blundering
into her head.  She shrugged.

Mrs Towler glanced at her and then at Mr Towler.  Her father went on,
much to Jenny's annoyance.  "You'd tell us if anything was wrong at
school wouldn't you.  If you were being bullied or anything."

"No, dad, I'm fine!" said Jenny.

Jenny was special to the Towlers, as any daughter is to her parents,
but the fact that she was cleverer and more studious than most
teenagers her age gave them high hopes for her.  However, they knew
that this tended to make her a target for the more unsavoury elements
that exist in any school -- even one with such a good reputation as St
Graces School for Girls.

"Are you sure?" Mr Towler persisted.

"Yesss!" said Jenny, rolling her eyes.

"You know we're here for you, and if..."

But Jenny wasn't listening any more.  She pushed back her chair, and
fled the room, leaving her mother and father alone in front of cooling
meals.

"Well," murmured Mr Towler, "what's got into her?"

"Darling," said Mrs Towler shaking her head and smiling
condescendingly, "you still have a lot to learn about women."

He looked at her questioningly.  "Are you talking about Jenny?"

"She's... grown up now!"

He still didn't seem to understand.

"Time of the month!" she mouthed.

Mr Towler nodded and smiled, but he wasn't convinced.  He had known
his wife for twenty years and his daughter as a young woman for three
or four.  He knew PMT like a dog knows a whip.  He could recognise its
onset in both women before they did, and he knew when to take cover.
However, he knew that whatever was wrong with Jenny, it had nothing to
do with her biology.
****

In her bedroom Jenny tried to catch up with some homework.  She had
her books out and she was studying them carefully, but although her
eyes were flicking back and forth over the sentences as she turned the
pages, she didn't take in a single word.  Whatever she tried to
concentrate on, Sylvie and Kerry would come storming into her head
knocking everything else out of the way.

Perhaps, she decided, she should forget homework for one night and get
on with something that interested her.  She closed her books, and put
them in her schoolbag for tomorrow.  Then she reached for a little
biscuit tin that she kept on top of her wardrobe, and put it on her
desk.  She opened it with a smile.

Since she was different to most girls, and since it was true that
these differences marked her out as a target, Jenny had learned to
fall back on her own resources.  When things were bad, she would
retreat into her own little worlds of fantasy, which she populated
with fantastical characters based on the people around her.  In these
worlds she was in control -- well, more or less. She had even started
putting these fantasies on paper.

She loved writing stories, and some of this had spilled over into her
English essays.  While her classmates wrote derivative odes about
daffodils or stories of unrequited love, Jenny would regale them with
tales about how `Ace Test Pilot Tessa' had flown a stolen fighter
plane across hostile territory to save the day, or the exploits of
`Sharon -- Swordswoman and Adventuress'.  This only served to enhance
her reputation as a bit of an `oddball' within the community of St
Graces, but Jenny didn't really care.

She took sheets of paper out of the box and studied the title for a
moment.  `The Pirate Queen'.  This was her current obsession, and she
had already spent many hours excitedly writing pages and pages.  If
that couldn't banish unwelcome thoughts, nothing would.

The strategy was successful, at least in a sense. Her state of mind
actually suited what she was writing very well, and the acts of
cruelty perpetrated on her happy little band of pirates by the crews
of marauding warships mirrored very well the cruelty inflicted on her
by Kerry and Sylvie.  She felt a lurch of excitement as she pictured
the capture of her `Pirate Queen' and her subsequent torture and
interrogation.  It was not for her to question the nature of this
excitement, rather to follow the muse.  She didn't even question the
historical fact that her likely captors were unlikely to be female,
and even more unlikely to be Kerry and Sylvie.  She wrote for hours
until finally she was too tired to write more.  She put the
manuscripts carefully back in the tin and hid it with care.  There was
no way she could allow this story to be seen by anyone else.  It was
time for bed.  

Lying in bed, however, her mind continued to race.  She wanted to get
some sleep, and tried counting sheep, but they had a tendency to grow
human heads with faces just like Sylvie and Kerry, and these sheep
seemed to end up pinning her to the ground.  Finally, in exasperation,
she got out of bed to fetch a glass of water and try to settle her
mind.  Sitting up in bed, she sipped the water for a few moments, and
then put out the light and slid back down under the sheets.

As she did so, her nightdress rode up, but before pulling it down
again as she normally would, she relished the mischievous pleasure of
her nakedness against the sheets, and ran her hand over the smooth
skin of her hip. She sighed as she surreptitiously brought her hand
across into the junction of her thighs, feeling the crinkle of her
unexpectedly rough pubic hair, and explored the little folds down
there.  She gasped as she felt a little electric twinge of arousal,
and sure enough, as the waves of desire started to course through her
body, all extraneous thought, whether pleasant or unpleasant, began to
retreat from her mind.

She had never really done this before properly and now explored her
body, still unfamiliar in its sensations, stroking herself all over -
her thighs and arms, her stomach and breasts.  She even fingered her
earlobes, and her lips, seeking out sensation, her breath quickening
and her body undulating.  Finally, demanding more intensity, she
concentrated on her breasts and her crotch, pinching her nipples, and
flicking her delicate little clit furiously from side to side, pretty
much as Kerry had done earlier.

She could smell herself now, a hot, tangy smell that seemed
reminiscent of molten metal.  But now, she was barely conscious,
riding a huge unstoppable wave of pleasure for the second time that
day.  She was unconscious of her cries, short sharp little yelps,
which carried through the house and which culminated in a long drawn
out moan as her orgasm took her away.
****

"Is that our phone, dear?" asked Mrs Towler cocking her head and
listening.

"No, darling, I think it was something on the telly," replied Mr
Towler.
****

"You're invited to a little party!" said Sylvie as she blocked Jenny's
path to her first lesson that morning.

Jenny looked up into Sylvie's dead eyes and wondered if she actually
had a soul.  Yesterday afternoon, Sylvie had ground her crotch
mercilessly into Jenny's face, filtering her oxygen supply through her
knickers.  Jenny had not smelt anything she hadn't expected to while
down there, and there was certainly nothing even vaguely reminiscent
of her own `hot metal' smell of last night.  She wondered if Sylvie
had the imagination to have gained any pleasure from the experience at
all, apart, of course, from that of doing Kerry's bidding.

"I'm not going," she said in that uncompromising tone she had used
yesterday, and which had got her into so much trouble. She had no
intention of missing this party, though.  In fact she even had her own
agenda to follow.  

She attempted to push past, but Sylvie moved to block her.

"Oh, is that so?" she said, smiling callously.  "It's just that Kerry
and I would like to discuss one or two things with you before we tell
the whole school how we caught you having sex with a bottle!"

Jenny's jaw dropped.  "But that's not true!" she cried, playing the
part to the full.

Sylvie shrugged, absently inspecting her nails.  "Kerry and I both
know what we saw!  We could make your life very unpleasant!"

"You wouldn't!" said Jenny, sounding horrified.  
****

Jenny carried a bag of schoolbooks as she knocked on the front door of
the grimy terrace where Kerry lived.  She would have left the books at
home, but since she had told her mother that she was going to do some
homework with a friend, Mrs Towler had helpfully made sure she had
everything with her that she needed - including her books.  Jenny
couldn't think of a suitable excuse not to bring them.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" her father had shouted from his
armchair as she left the house.

He was such an idiot.

Kerry answered the door and Sylvie stood behind her.  For a few
moments all three of them stood in guilty silence. Kerry, who had half
expected Jenny not to show, was a little confused herself.  She had
experienced so much pleasure in humiliating Jenny the way she had, far
more than she normally did through bullying other `nerd-girls' at
school, that she was hungry for more.  The problem was that she
couldn't see how Jenny would put up with it, however frightened she
was.  Sooner or later, she knew from experience, anyone would squeal
if they were pushed too hard.  So, somewhere in her mind was the
thought that she mustn't go as far with Jenny as she might have
wanted.  This rather cramped her style.

Sylvie, on the other hand, was just waiting on Kerry for direction.

"I've come for the party," said Jenny flatly, and pushed her way in.

That was the other thing, thought Kerry, there was something about
Jenny that suggested that she was not an unwilling participant in
this.  She couldn't understand this, and she was nervous of things she
didn't understand.

"You got any drinks in there?" said Kerry pointing to the bag and
trying to sound threatening.

"No," Jenny said flushing.

"What then?"

"Just books."

"Books?"

Kerry stood for a moment, with a puzzled frown.

Jenny thought it best to divert her attention. "So what are we going
to do?"

"Well, for a start, you're not exactly dressed for a party!" piped up
Sylvie, looking to Kerry for approval.

"No, you're not," said Kerry, her face brightening with inspiration.
"What do you think, Sylvie, shall we turn our horny little bookworm
into a party animal?"

"Yeah!" said Sylvie, and taking Jenny's arm, pulled her up the stairs.

They lead her into a bedroom.  "This is mum's room," said Kerry, "You
can borrow some of her clothes."  

With that she pulled open a wardrobe to reveal the most bizarre
clothing collection Jenny had ever seen.

"Er... what does your mum do for a living?" asked Jenny trying to
sound conversational.

"She's an actress," said Kerry, flushing slightly.  "As a matter of
fact she's performing tonight."

"Oh," said Jenny, flicking gingerly through the clothes. "What play is
she in?"

Kerry scowled dangerously at her.  "How should I know?" she muttered.
"She never tells me.  Anyway it's none of your business!  Choose an
outfit!"

Jenny looked through the clothing, some of it barely managing to cling
to the hangers.  She chose what she considered to be the most suitable
outfit and held it up.

"You taking the piss?" said Kerry sourly.

Jenny shrugged and put the school uniform back.

"You sure she won't mind me wearing her clothes?" she said as she
started examining the contents of the wardrobe.

"She won't know, will she!" said Kerry impatiently.

"Well," said Jenny, "It's a good job she's my size isn't it!"

Jenny felt a frisson of excitement as she inspected some of the items
mounting.  Some of the outfits were really rather... grown-up, if a
little odd.

"So does she hold up banks too?" said Jenny holding up a leather
helmet with a zip in the mouth.

 "Not that I know of, and she doesn't keep house either!" said Kerry
pulling out a French maids uniform.

Jenny laughed, then held her hand up in front of her mouth.  She
didn't want to appear rude, but it was clear from the general state of
the house that nobody had spent much time cleaning the place, whether
dressed in a maids uniform or not.

"And these...?" She held up a tiny pair of leather shorts, that didn't
look as if they'd fit a six year old.

Kerry burst out laughing.  The expression of innocent puzzlement on
Jenny's face was too much.

Sylvie, on the other hand, found none of this funny.  As far as she
was concerned they were there to humiliate Jenny and that was all.
The sudden burst of bonhomie between Kerry and Jenny unsettled her.
She nudged her friend, and whispered to her.

In the meantime Jenny found a short white dress that took her fancy.
The material seemed to gleam, and she ached to wear it.

"Put that one on!" ordered Kerry hoarsely, her giggles suddenly cured.

Jenny, pulled her sweater off, and removed her jeans.  She put the
dress on and glanced at herself in the mirror, admiring how it clung
to her body.

"Nooo," said Kerry. "That dress isn't designed to be worn with a bra!"

Jenny, took the dress off obediently, and removed her bra, feeling
somehow more exposed than she normally would have done in the presence
of two girls as her unfettered breasts swung with her movement.  She
put the dress on hurriedly.

"Or those knickers!" said Sylvie.

It was true.  The panty-line was clearly visible through the
translucent material.  Kerry pulled open a drawer, which seemed to be
full of spare bits of lace.  

"No, these would be far more suitable!"

Jenny stared at the contents in amazement.  "Does your mum actually
wear those!?" she said.

Kerry flushed, and Jenny, who was surprised at her discomfort,
realised for the first time that Kerry actually seemed nervous.
Sylvie didn't seem to have noticed.

Kerry grabbed a tiny little white thong, her face becoming angry.
"Just put these on, and stop pissing about!" she rasped.

Jenny took off her own knickers and pulled on the thong, feeling it
slide uncomfortably up her bum and making the assumption that they had
been washed.

"Hmm, how about a little make-up?" said Sylvie.

They sat Jenny down in front of the mirror applying over-the-top
lipstick and mascara, giggling as they admired their handiwork.
Jenny, suddenly excluded from the laughter, looked at the finished
image and knew instinctively that it didn't match this outfit, or her
mood, or anything else she might have imagined.  But Kerry was
supposed to be calling the shots, so she didn't argue.

"So now what?" she said.

"Now," said Kerry, "we are going downstairs to play party games!"

They trooped downstairs, Jenny waddling slightly as she suppressed the
urge to pull the unfamiliar thong out from between her buttocks.

"Get us some drinks, Jen," said Kerry. "They're in the fridge, and the
kitchen's through there.  Sylvie and I will set up."

As Jenny left the room she glanced back and caught Kerry staring at
her.  In that moment an unspoken token of understanding seemed to pass
between them.  She felt an unexpected surge of happiness.

Jenny wandered into the filthy kitchen and observed the huge pile of
dirty plates in the sink.  She found the fridge, whose contents were,
in the main, well past their sell-by date and retrieved three bottles
of Metz.  She found Kerry and Sylvie in the lounge, sitting at a
table, dealing out a pack of cards.

"Great, Jen, thanks," said Kerry, taking one of the bottles.

"Yeah, thanks," said Sylvie, opening her own.  Then her eyes widened.
"Hey!" she said, as Jenny opened a bottle for herself, "who said you
could have one?"

"I said!" said Kerry, and Sylvie was silent.

She carried on dealing out the cards.  "You don't mind a spot of
gambling do you, Jen?"

"No," said Jenny, "but why are you dealing only two hands?"

"Oh, you're not playing!" said Kerry. "You're the stake!"

 Jenny knew that something like this was going to happen, but she
feigned nervous surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You pay a forfeit to the winner, that's all."

"What kind of forfeit?"

"Anything they ask!"

Kerry and Sylvie giggled, while Jenny stood looking suitably
apprehensive as the two girls began play.

"Snap!"  Sylvie cried excitedly and gathered the cards to her.

The play continued, Sylvia and Kerry swapping piles of cards, while
Jenny wondered with mounting excitement what kind of forfeit she might
be forced to pay.  She bit her lip nervously in keeping with her role.
Even so, she was aware that she had her limits. She cringed, for
example, at the thought that they might make her go outside and parade
around the streets looking like this. There was also the possibility
that they would simply make her do all that washing up, and that would
have been a bit pointless from her point of view.  But she rather
hoped that her forfeit might involve her head being forced between
Kerry's thighs.  Jenny just knew that there she would find that
delicious smell of `hot metal'.

"Snap!"

Oh God! thought Jenny, I hope Kerry wins. Please, please let Kerry
win.

"Snap!"  As if in answer to her prayer, Kerry gathered the cards
leaving Sylvie's hand empty.  "Looks like I win!" said Kerry smiling.

Jenny looked at her, feeling almost faint as her heart hammered at her
ribcage.  "So I have to pay you your forfeit?" she said.  "What do you
want me to do?"

Kerry hesitated.  "Well now, let's see," she said stroking her chin.
She walked slowly around Jenny assessing her, while Jenny felt the
thrill of excitement mount.

Kerry walked around her again. "What shall we do with you?"

Slowly Jenny realised, with some disappointment, that Kerry had no
idea.

Before she could do anything, though, Sylvie jumped up suddenly,
lifting her skirt, turning round and bending over.  "You can lick my
arse!" she said.

"Fuck off!" said Jenny quickly.

Sylvie looked at her from her position, her face reddening with anger.
"You'll fucking do as you're fucking told!" she screeched.  "Tell her
Kerry!"

"I'm fed up with this!" said Jenny, suddenly angry.

Sylvie stood up and straightened her skirt.  "Right!" she said,
glancing at Kerry, "remember what I said!  The whole school will
know!"

But Jenny was already halfway up the stairs.  "I don't care!" she
shouted.  "No-one will take any notice anyway, you stupid bitch!"

Jenny slammed the bedroom door and wedged a chair in front of it as
she heard Sylvie pounding up the stairs.  She stripped off the dress
and thong, which she had been starting to get used to, and donned her
own clothes, while Sylvie banged on the door and shouted threats and
obscenities.

Finally she opened the door stepping out as Sylvie stumbled in.
Without looking back, Jenny ran down the stairs.  As she fumbled with
the latch, she caught sight of Kerry standing in the door of the
living room, her face expressionless.  Kerry made no move to stop her.
****

The next day, as Jenny made her way across the playground towards her
classroom, she suddenly found herself confronted by Kerry and Sylvie.
Around her, chattering girls cast the odd nervous glance in their
direction as they milled around.

Sylvie stepped forward, smiling.  "Soon!" she said, "soon everyone
will know!" 

"Sylvie..." Kerry had put her hand on Sylvie's shoulder and was gently
turning her round to face her.  Sylvie looked at her blankly.

"Piss off!"

Kerry took Jenny's arm and gently led her away, while Sylvie stood
alone in the playground, mouth open, shifting awkwardly from foot to
foot.  Conversations between groups of girls standing close by
suddenly died.

Poor Sylvie!  One day she would be working as a PA for a newspaper
proprietor for whom her lack of imagination combined with a ruthless
devotion to duty would prove invaluable.  There would be a number of
steps before she got to that position, though, and this was the first.
Each step involved a change, and each change involved uncertainty, and
like most people Sylvie hated uncertainty.

Kerry and Jenny walked together for a few moments.

"I'm sorry about last night," mumbled Kerry at last.

Jenny shrugged noncommittally.

"My parents are out tomorrow night," she said suddenly. "Come round."
****

Mr and Mrs Towler looked forward to their Bridge evenings.  As they
drove away from the house, most of Mr Towler's concentration was on
the traffic as he pulled into the main road, but a small part of it
was on Jenny and her new friend.  There was something different about
Kerry that he couldn't put a finger on.  Perhaps it wasn't the girl
herself, but rather the way Jenny was in her presence.  He couldn't
quite put a finger on it.  He glanced at his wife in the passenger
seat and considered, for no particular reason, that he didn't think
his daughter would be drawn to sweaty lorry drivers like her mother
had been.
****

"Aaaaah!"

The muscles on Jenny's bare back flinched as the strap bit into her
flesh, and her bare breasts shook as she leaned, spread-eagled against
the wall, wearing nothing but a ragged skirt.  Behind her, Kerry stood
with one of her father's leather belts, wearing a pair of riding
breeches and boots and a frilly blouse.

"You are in my power at last, Pirate Queen," said Kerry, "and you will
tell me all I want to know!"

"Never!" shouted Jenny.  "I will never yield to you and your mewling
lackeys!"

The strap descended again, its tip licking round her body to snap at
her breast.  Jenny savoured the delicious new pain.

"Aaaaah!" She twisted as much as her position would allow, emitting a
sob.  "You vicious, dirty bitch!"

"You will treat me with the respect my position deserves, you filthy
slut!" yelled Kerry as the lash descended again, even harder this
time.

"Aaaaaah! Owwww!" screamed Jenny. "Sylvie!"

"Oh, sorry!" said Kerry, the agreed `safe' word defining her limits.

"OK, just carry on.  Just not quite so hard, that's all."

"You'll tell me about your ship and crew, or die in agony!" snarled
Kerry, snapping back into role.

"Never!... Aaaah!... OK, OK, she has eight sails!"

"Eight sails?" said Kerry, standing back, "what would I want to know
that for?"

"Oh, it tells you how fast she goes," said Jenny, turning to face her
and smiling as she explained a little more of her fantasy.  "Let's
carry on."

"Hah! I knew you would crack, Pirate slut!" said Kerry, and Jenny
quivered as she delivered another stinging lash for good measure.
"And how many guns!"

"She has fifty guns!" yelled Jenny defiantly. "Enough to blow your
ship out of the water, and when she does my crew will rescue me and I
will have my revenge... Aaaaaaah!"

Jenny had never enjoyed herself quite so much in her life, and neither
had Kerry.

END

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <story-submit@asstr.org> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-admin@asstr.org> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+